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Tuesday, April 12, 2022

Words. Matter.

 If I ask any random adult on the street to tell me about something from their childhood that still strongly affects them to this day, most answers would probably have to do with something that was verbalized. Words or phrases that were encouraging or not. Names they were called. Nicknames they were given.

When I was about 7 or  8 years old, one of my older brothers joined the military. I answered the house phone the day he made his first call home. I was so excited and probably started babbling about missing him. He cut me off and told me to just go get mom to the phone. As an adult, I know that he wasn't being mean. He probably only had a few minutes to talk and I was wasting them with my girlish rambling. Still, that is the earliest memory I have of my feelings being deeply hurt by someone I loved.

Memories about my mother and the other women elders in my life have much to do with the things they said and how they said them. 

Someone in a Reddit comment or on a Twitter post once remarked that they always felt good whenever an "older black lady" calls them "baby". As in "Don't worry about it, baby". I can relate. I'm black and the sweetest thing a lover ever called me was "baby girl". And that has nothing to do with the daddy issues I actually have. It's just such a loving vocal affection, like calling someone "sweet thang".

Just like yesterday, and in all the yesteryears, today certain fad phrases and slang terms root themselves in our culture. Being older, I don't keep up with currents slang and sayings but I have a lot of nieces and nephews who do. I've heard them go through so many, the words are a blur. 

Bye Felicia. Girl, bye. That part. True dat. Being extra. Suspect or sus. Hooking up.

The younger people in my extended family listen to Rap of so many different styles I can't cope - nasty rap, mumble rap, gangster rap, East Coast and West Coast, and Country rap. Then there are the bands and artists obsessed with weird arrangements that include screaming, crying, and cursing the Lord. They are so overt with their intentions of having meaningless relationships or taking revenge on whoever they are "beefing" with. They don't bother with subtlety. At all.

I grew up listening to Motown, Rock, and Country so I won't talk about the terms we had in "my day" for sex, love, dancing, cheating, yearning, learning, etc. In those dinosaur days, we hinted at lurid sex and highlighted romantic sex (do people even use the term "making love" anymore?) There was a lot of reading between the lines to find the "good stuff". I think the last subtle song about making love was Sade's "Your Love Is King" where she crooned through the joys of climax.

I'm reading a book now that has me falling in love with words all over again - the way "Their Eyes Were Watching God" did years ago. In "The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue", V.E. Schwab does with words what any great jazz or classical composer does with music. I'm more caught up in the way the story is told than I am with the story. Stephen King is like that. Not many of his fans care what story he is telling, they just like hearing him tell it.

Another book I am reading is Eric Metaxas' "Is Atheism Dead?" and I recently told an acquaintance (who is Athiest) that I think they would enjoy the work. I say that because this acquaintance is a person who likes to be challenged with ideas, even the ones that go against his beliefs. The book is not a haranguing, finger-wagging, I'm-right-and-you're-wrong set of arguments in the voice of a televangelist huckster. It's a conversation from someone who doesn't believe what they do just because they believe what they do.

Words matter. As a lot of our parents taught us, it's not what we say but how we say it that matters most. The how part is the key to successful communication. How makes the difference between being rude and gracious; between telling and discussing. Being the daughter of Southerners, I know that there are two ways to hear the phrase "Bless your heart". There is mainly only one way to hear "Why, bless your heart". That "why"? It matters. And putting the accent on any of the words in the phrase... well, you can write a book on polite Southern put-downs and encouragements.

Not what you say but how you say it. 

When I was young, I was misbehaving in public and my mother threatened my life just with a look. No words were needed, but if they had been, trust me, she had an arsenal. 

Words matter. 

Peace

--Free