Our Words Matter

“How I wish your bearing and conversation were such that, on seeing or hearing you, people would say: 'This man reads the life of Jesus Christ.'”

—St. Josemaría Escrivá

I've been considering writing this post for months now, but have honestly just not been brave enough to put it out there.  It seems silly to admit that - that writing about a simple idea like charity in speech would be a scary one - but it is.   It seems that the idea that our words matter, and we should choose them carefully at all times, is not a popular one, in general.   It's often one that our leaders and celebrities are held to (as they should be!), but one that we often fail to hold ourselves to in our personal daily lives.

Before anyone gets the idea otherwise, I am still VERY MUCH a work in progress with this ideal.   I catch myself, on a regular basis, starting to speak unkindly about someone around me, or speaking unkindly TO another person.   I do not know if it's a nurture or a nature thing - I am not qualified enough in human behavior to know whether or not this is a temptation that we are born with, or something that we grow accustomed to accepting, through our surrounding culture.  I just know that I'm a work in progress, just like everyone reading this post.

I guess, before I get too far into my thoughts, I should back up and give you a bit of the backstory that triggered them.   I'm purposefully removing as much identifying information as possible, one to protect the identities of the people involved, and secondly because I don't think that matters.   I think we can all see ourselves in this scenario - to the point that I don't even have to admit that it was something that I witnessed.  I could easily have imagined the same example and used it here in a blog post, and you likely would have accepted it as something I witnessed, if I told you it was.   The identifying information doesn't really matter - this sort of thing is so commonplace that I'm sure we can all picture similar conversations in our own minds.

This time of year is very much a travel intensive one.   We participate in two different travel sports, and we also spend a lot of time on the road in our new home, as we travel 3+ hours to see medical specialists or therapist for Clown #5.   I'm a huge fan of road trips, so I'm not at all bothered by this traveling.  Seeing as we live in a very isolated spot with very few of our favorite restaurants and coffee stops, it's also a fun way to sneak in special stops for some of our favorite goodies.   

On one of these trips to doctor appointments, Mr T and I stopped to get a morning snack and coffee.  We were sitting in the coffee shop in a relatively small town (big enough to have a major coffee chain, but small enough to only have one grocery store along the main thoroughfare).  As we sat there, Mr T enjoying his cookie and the caffeine hitting my system, a woman about my age walked in.  

She obviously knew the women working behind the counter, whipping up the coffee goodness.   She also seemed to know at least one other woman who was there with a friend, enjoying coffee together, as she stopped and chatted at their table about her own teenaged daughter.   The women sitting at the table seemed to know the daughter, as they were asking about her experience at school so far this year, and on a sports team.  The woman at the table was referred to as a previous teacher of the incoming woman's teen daughter (I could hear all of this, as it was a very small coffee shop).

The woman went to the counter and placed an order, and as it was being made, the three women (the customer and the two behind the counter) started talking about their kids.  Friends, this is where I am hesitant to continue writing.   Up until now, it had been relatively pleasant, and easy for me to tune out.  Mr T doesn't really talk much if there's a cookie in front of him, and I try not to pull out my phone when I'm out with the kiddos, so we were being pretty quiet.  I was trying not to eavesdrop, and give them their space, but I also wasn't making any noises myself to drown them out.  Up until now, it wasn't that hard.

But, then the atmosphere in the coffee shop became very awkward.  The three women at the counter had changed their conversation from general pleasantries to something that charged the air in the coffee shop.  They'd started talking about their kids, and not in a positive manner.   Two of the women were loudly comparing the misdeeds of their teenaged children (again, I know they were teenaged, because it was impossible to NOT overhear the details in their conversation in such a small coffee shop).   Multiple times, I heard sentiments that very clearly stated that having children had ruined their lives and that they couldn't stand their kids being around.   Dreading summer vacation and having to interact with their kids was very much expressed.  At one point, a child was referred to as "the biggest mistake I ever made."

As I sat there, waiting for Mr T to finish his cookie so we could leave, and encouraging him to eat faster, I was extremely uncomfortable.    The words being said about these teenage children were harsh, and they were being said in a public atmosphere where the majority of those within earshot knew the children in question, in various capacities (parent's friends, previous teacher, etc).   They were all obviously part of the same small town community.

I left that coffee shop with Mr T shortly after, so I do not know how the conversation ended.   I do not know if it continued.  What I do know is that I left that shop feeling very sorry for the teenage children in question.   They may never know what kinds of things were being said about them in that 10 minute conversation, and I sincerely hope that they do not ever know.   To hear that the people you trust and rely on for protection and nurturing (your parents) are telling others that your existence ruins their lives, and having all of your mistakes loudly shared in a public setting, would be especially soul-crushing as a teenager trying to find your way in the world.   Maybe the teens DID make some behavior missteps.  Maybe they were emotionally difficult (teens often can be, as their hormones and bodies fluctuate).    I definitely understand frustrations associated with having to live so closely with another human being, especially one going through puberty. I get it, I really do.   But even with all that being said, those teens are worthy of so much more, especially from those closest to them.

Now listen, I know how hard it can be to not "vent" to those around you when something is difficult.  Trust me, I do know this.  It's something that I struggle with daily, to be honest. It feels good to get those feelings of anger and frustration out, and to be affirmed by those around you that you are in the right and the person you are venting about is in the wrong.   I have done it myself.  I still am tempted to do it now.

But, friends, I ask you:  how would you feel if you were the teen in this situation, and found out about the conversation after the fact?  How would you feel if you knew that one of the people you relied on most - your parent - was broadcasting your misdeeds to anyone who could hear it?  How would you feel to hear someone in your closest circle tell their friend that they wished you'd never been born?

That thought exercise stops me in my tracks.  

I'd be mortified.   I'd be deeply hurt.  I'd feel betrayed.  I'd feel unsafe.

Isn't this worth considering, before we open our mouths?   Isn't it worth considering what picture our words paint when we discuss someone in our lives?   Our words are creating an understanding of another human being - one that will not be forgotten when the recipient of our words meets that human being in the future.   Isn't it worth considering how we are presenting this person to their future employers?  Their future teachers?  Their future acquaintances?

Now extend this thought exercise to the person most close to us: Our spouse.   This person  knows us more intimately than any other person in our lives.  They know our hopes, our dreams, our fears, our desires.   They also know our deepest flaws and faults. and misdeeds.

Should we not extend this same consideration to them as we choose our words?   Think back to any Mom's Night Out that you've attended:  how many of them included a husband-bashing session?  

How would you feel if this was your husband sharing your mistakes and embarrassments to anyone who could hear?  To being made the butt of a joke?

Isn't it worth considering this, as we speak about our husbands in public?

(I feel like this goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway:  this does NOT apply to abuse. If you are being abused by a spouse, please talk to someone about it.  I am talking about everyday, run-of-the-mill family life in this blog post).

How we talk about another person - another human being - matters.   It matters to them, deeply.  It matters for their futures, as it shapes the perceptions of those around us hearing our words.   Words are not negligible.   They are impactful.  They are life-changing.   

We hold those in the spotlight to a much higher standard than we hold ourselves when it comes to word choice, I've found.   That's good!   We should be holding them to this standard when it comes to talking about other human beings:  we should be asking them to recognize and respond to the inherent dignity of every human being they speak about.

But we need to do the same.

Especially with regard to those in our most intimate circles.   They trust us.   They are vulnerable with us.  They rely on us for support and protection.

Let's have our words reflect that.