I am a writer because words matter. I learned just how much they matter well before I ever wrote anything of substance. I learned it at the age of 7. What you have to understand is that anything you say, even something you say as a child, or in the most casual, fleeting scenario... anything can be carried with someone else for their entire life.
When I was 7 my family moved to Florida. One of my most vivid memories is when one of my peers asked me, “Why is your nose so flat?”, pushing her nose down with her fingers to indicate just how flat she thought my nose was. I shrugged. And the interaction was over. She likely never thought about it again. But her question would be the starting point of every self-evaluation I’d have in the mirror for much of my life. And I would hate my flat face for decades. I would wish I was a white person, with the perfect, upturned nose that didn’t look “like a pancake,” according to that same classmate.The thing is, even looking back now, I know my classmate wasn’t a bully. She wasn’t even trying to be funny when she asked about my flat face. I’ve never been angry at her for doing so. She was a child as much as I, curious about a kind of person she’d apparently never seen before. But still, her words mattered.
Later on in elementary school I would excitedly pack my own lunch for the first time with a pork sandwich made of a traditional Vietnamese pork patty my mother made. It was one of my favorite foods, and I couldn’t wait to eat it. Come lunchtime, I took my food out and it didn’t take but a minute for a few kids sitting across me to wrinkle their noses, point at my sandwich, and ask, “What is that? It smells.” I was mortified. I said, “Just some sandwich my mom made. I’m not even hungry.” These kids also weren’t bullies. They weren’t trying to make embarrass me on purpose, but their words... oh, how much they carried. I threw my sandwich away without a single bite of it, and never packed my own lunch again during the entirety of my grade school years.
I would remind you, the honesty of kids can be harsh, but most aren’t inherently unkind. These kids asking about my sandwich weren’t mean children anymore than the first girl who’d never seen a “flat” Asian face before. They were also curious about something they’d never seen (or smelled, in this case). However, what was clear is that they hadn’t been taught how significant their words and questions could be.
We can’t change the inquiring minds of children - and we shouldn’t. The world is more diverse now and I don’t foresee that many children in a classroom today won’t have ever seen an Asian person before. So I don’t think my experiences would be rampant today. But as the world changes and diversity becomes the norm, what we can do is teach our kids to embrace differences, rather than question them. We can explain to kids that having a rainbow of friends makes life colorful, and that different cultures are exciting to learn about.
For what it’s worth, I don’t consider myself a bullied child. I didn’t spend my youth afraid of anyone mocking me, nor did anyone spend their time actively doing so. Even though these incidents made me question myself, or changed my actions, they didn’t weaken me. Rather, they strengthened my interactions with others. My story isn’t one of victimization - just of a child who was affected in a way she hopes others never have to be. It’s important to remember that my classmates didn’t have to be bullies to make a huge impact with their words. Because of my experiences with them, I’ve gone through life being extremely mindful about things I say to anyone, having learned what I have the power to do when saying anything at all.
The importance of teaching the use of appropriate diction is particularly paramount nowadays, when we can all get behind a computer screen and express everything we’re thinking in any manner that we choose. But we have to keep in mind how doing just that will affect others. And we have to consider the responsibility we have to each other when we choose our words. People are digesting everything you’re saying, even if you think it’s mundane. You could mean no harm and still cause a lot of it.
People will tell you that actions speak louder than words, but I write this to remind you that doesn’t mean words can’t and won’t also be blaring. My plea to you, in this age of instantaneous ideas and musings, is to express yourself, but carefully, rationally, and most of all, thoughtfully. Choose your words wisely, considering how much they can matter, and teach your kids to do the same so the world can be a more mindful place. And for Pete’s sake, if you’re writing your words on the web, don’t forget to edit, too.