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The Day I Found Power in Words

How what we say can be a part of our DNA

By Charles C. CampbellPublished 4 years ago 4 min read
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How what we say can be a part of our DNA

I remember in third grade I felt the magic of being a grown up. I was on a bathroom break with a friend of mine and we were talking about something that transpired in class. As he was talking I felt the urge to say the word shit after his comment. Then he looked at me as if I gave him a commendation and he kept talking. However, for me, it was like an “a-ha” moment. I was like, “Did I just say a bad word?” Then like a reflex, it came out of me again right on time after my friend finished his next statement. This time I said it with less meekness. He looked at me smiling as I was confirming what he was talking about. Truthfully, until this day, I have no clue about what he was saying. All I know was that I was tapping into an unknown power that made me feel strong, independent and grown. My friend’s tale became sheer background noise. I was wrapped up in the new ability I discovered. I started repeating my new “vocabulary word of the day” as if a magical lightning bolt was going to come from the heavens, striking me and turn me into Captain Cuss-a-Motherfucker-Out. There was no lightning bolt but I did belt my fifth and final cuss word with as much bass in my voice as a 10 year old can muster. I stood tall and affirming with my chest poked out, a broad smile in my superhero pose. My buddy thought my expletive riddled responses was my way of agreeing with everything that he had just told me, but in my head I was fascinated with the idea that I was now like my parents and understood the freedom of expression and sheer joy of cussing.

That is until that fateful day my uncontrolled ability manifested through my loose lips while talking to my little sister. My parents happened to be within earshot of my conversation. The sky was instantly blackened by a hailstorm of shoes, books, couch pillows and other items that sent me running for cover. Dazed and confused I didn’t understand the cause of this frightful new weather pattern. All I remember hearing in the scariest voice I ever heard uttered by my mom, while hiding under the kitchen table was “What did you say?” For a moment, I was so scared by her sinister tone I didn’t remember what I had said. She cautioned me, “I’m going to ask you one more time. What did you just say?” Scrambling for words, I was hoping my response was going to be the right one. Then I heard my sister from the other room say, “He said shit!” I saw in my sister a sparkle in her 6-year-old eye that she too felt the power of the dark side after she uttered her first cuss word loudly. I was aptly shown the consequences of the dark art of cussing by the combined might of my parents. That lesson stood strong well into my teenage years. Even then, I only had the courage to dabble in the arcane art of cussing among my trusted coven of friends for fear of my parents somehow hearing me again.

When I was blessed to have children of my own, I realized we are all born into sin and it all comes from some modeled behavior. One Christmas Eve my 7 year old unintentionally tapped into his latent mutant power when he yelled at his 5-year-old sibling, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Like my parents, I bellowed that ever so frightening question, “What did you just say?” Like me at his age, he was frozen by my question. Then my wife chimed in with an equally slow, yet steady frightful tone, “Answer your father and tell us where you heard that from.” Grief stricken, my son was able to mutter, “Daddy. I heard him talking to somebody on the phone.” Now totally embarrassed, instead of pelting him with shoes, books and couch pillows, I banished him to his room. Now my wife is scolding me on watching what I say around the kids. As fate would have it, on Christmas morning my 5-year-old son said “Aww shit!” after breaking his new toy in front of my visiting mother-in-law and wife. Stunned, all the adults are looking at each other for answers. My son was not aware of his comment and was looking at us in bewilderment. This time in a less menacing voice I asked him the infamous question and he calmly replied, “I heard mommy say that when she hurt her toe yesterday.” Rather than scold my wife, her mother and I just gave her the shameful” I can’t believe you look.”

Moral of the story not only is someone always listening to what you say, but also people look for authority and agency from your words. So watch what you say damn it!

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I invite you to follow me for more future postmodern explorations.

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About the Creator

Charles C. Campbell

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