The Power of Language
And why I eliminated some words from my vocabulary
Many people who know me, know that I have a self-commitment to not use profane language. Some people also know that I’ve never used profane language, at least not intentionally. But most everyone — even friends and family — don’t know why.
‘Fire Truck’ or ‘Flying Duck’?
“I know a word that starts in ‘fire’ and ends in ‘truck’”.
Those were the words gloated to me by one of my peers during art class in 6th grade. I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Caught off guard in my scribbling, I responded with, “What?” She rolled her eyes and reluctantly tried again, “I know a word that starts with ‘flying’ and ends in ‘duck.’” I thought, well aren’t “fire truck” and “flying duck” two words? Fed up with my naivety she leaned in close to my ear and whispered a short four-letter word that combined “F” and “uck”.
That moment when the “f-bomb” dropped was my introduction to profane language. Still confused, I repeated what she said aloud in the form of a question. Panic flew across her face as she gave me a loud SHHH and I felt shame come over me. I saw her glance around the room specifically for the teacher to make sure she hadn’t heard me.
I didn’t know what crime I committed, so I tried to forget about whatever I had just learned. Yet, as is always the case, the harder you try to forget something, the more engraved it becomes in your memory.
Fighting Words
If there is one thing from my childhood that I regret the most, it’s fighting with my older brother. We had fights somewhat frequently, consisting of both physical and verbal battles. And I’ll admit now: I started my fair share of them, or perhaps more. There was a lot of hitting and pushing, though I preferred kicking (I played a lot of soccer at the time). We also shared a vocabulary list of unkind names and insults to call one another. None of them were harsh enough to be censored in media, but they carried negativity.
Now, of course, it’s not uncommon for siblings to fight; and we also had many good times of caring, sharing and playing with one another. We still loved each other.
I remember the last fight we had. We were in the basement of our house and it involved the usual combination of kicking and yelling. Even more clearly do I remember coming up the stairs once the fight was over. As I swung around the railing, I found my mom standing there. Her face didn’t express anger, but a deep and tired concern as she conveyed her worry that I could “seriously hurt my brother” in these fights. Her words struck me. Why had I never considered that? The fact still haunts me — how I could’ve been so flippant with my words and actions. Thankfully, at 12 years old, I took the time to reflect on it.
I thought about what my mom said to me over and over as I laid on my bed. And for some reason, still unbeknownst to me, I walked over and grabbed the Bible off my bookshelf as I processed her words. I’m fairly certain it was a child’s Bible, probably 4–5 years too young for me at that time. It was pink and had a cartoon picture on the front. I had never opened it before, but something led me to reach for it. Not having any idea of how it was even structured, I parted it near the middle, which showed me Proverbs.
I wish I could tell you the verse that changed everything for me, but I would be lying if I pointed to one in particular. I read multiple chapters and skipped around. It may have been the compounding wisdom about honoring parents (Pro 1: 8–9), loving brothers (Pro 17:17), and speaking life (Pro 18:21). Between the words from my mom and the words on these pages, something clicked in my mind. If there was ever an “Amazing Grace” moment in my life, this was it, my blind eyes could see. I saw the hurt that I caused in my fights and I knew I needed to do something to make it better.
That day, I made a pact with myself. A pact that, to be honest, I can’t believe I’ve kept so truly. I told myself, “No more fighting with your brother” — and this included both physically and verbally. After that day, I never called my brother a name again that wasn’t his own. I didn’t tell anyone about my pact with myself. I also didn’t even think of what the consequences were if I broke it or how I should be held accountable to it, which is maybe why I kept it so easily. For me, that was it. That was the decision I made to go forward, to start over in my relationship with my brother.
Why I don’t use profanity
When I made my pact, my intention was to never insult or call my brother names again. As a result, I eliminated some words from my vocabulary. And when I say eliminated, I stopped using the words altogether, even in conversations with other people. My specific pact led me to the more general decision to not use such words with anyone.
Just as my pact included more people, it also began to incorporate other words. Around this time was my introduction to “fire truck” and “flying duck” in art class. The f-bomb was the first swear word on my mental list of “Do not use”. As I learned more swear words, I added them to the list.
A list may not be the best way to describe it. For me, it’s not something I really keep track of — I have no idea what is actually on my “list”. I decided that I don’t want to use certain kinds of words, so I don’t even consider them as options. To me, it’s almost as if they don’t exist, until I hear or see someone else use them.
Although my original concern with such words was about not harming my brother and others, my reasons for not using them have expanded to loving myself too. Swear words don’t make me feel good. I often feel bitter or sad after hearing a lot of profane language. Usually because swear words most often have a negative connotation — expressing anger, frustration, or disdain. As someone who already thinks very critically and negatively, it’s better for me to think about more positive things.
I don’t completely avoid swear words in movies, books, and music. For one thing, that would be fairly impractical; and for another, I would miss out on some good works of art. I do limit my exposure, however. Not in a rigid way of restricting myself to five minutes a day of explicit songs or only one such movie a week. It’s adaptable to how I’m feeling. I just don’t have the desire for movie dialogue or lyrics that are comprised of strings of swearing. I usually take on however much negativity the character or artist is portraying.
I find it important which words go into my ears because they become my thoughts, which soon become my words, and words become my actions.
Cursing without cursing
In all of this, I want to make something clear: I do not expect, or think, everyone ought to eliminate swear words from their vocabulary. I have laid out my story and my reasoning of why I have made this decision. My aim in writing this article is not to convince you to join me.
Far too often people think I must be judging them when they use swear words since I don’t use them. This is not the case. And though there are words I have never used, I want to point out that just because I haven’t used curse words or profanity, does not mean I haven’t cursed or said profane things.
Words have the potential for positive, neutral, and negative effects. Although I consider swear words to have a typically more negative effect, I think there are instances when they can promote positivity. For example, I have laughed at many jokes that involved swear words. On the other hand, seemingly more innocent and common words can be used in harmful ways in the form of passive aggression, lying, and gossip.
What really matters is not the words you use, but the intention in which you use them and the effect they have on yourself and other people.
Sometimes I find it difficult to check myself because I don’t use certain, explicitly harmful words. I have to be mindful of my intentions, motivations, and feelings when I express myself. What did I want from the conversation? How did I affect the other person? Did my tone and body language correspond to my words?
Life would be too easy if simply eliminating words from your vocabulary could make you a “good person”. It’s not about the words. It’s about the status of your heart and mind from which words flow. By examining myself before and after I speak, I aim to ensure that my words convey compassion, hope, and truth.
Speaking Life
Speech is about really meaning what you’re saying and loving well.
Whether it’s to a friend, family member, or stranger, words can have a lasting impact on someone’s life. Along with that day in 6th grade art class, I can still hear the echoing words of certain friends, coaches, teachers, and colleagues from other moments. Many have pushed me to be better and strengthened who I am. In return, I hope the things I have spoken so far have encouraged and motivated, inspired and uplifted those around me.
Words can be more precious than jewels or sharper than a knife. Say what you mean; and may it be an expression of love to all who hear it.
“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” (Ephesians 4:29 NIV)
