Sticks and Stones
"Sticks and stones can break my bones",
So the saying goes.
"But names can never hurt me",
We have chanted to our foes.
I don't think that's really true,
At least not on my part.
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But names can break my heart.
- Jacquelyn Saad
I wrote that poem as a part of a book of children's poetry I wrote for Jacob when he was nine years old. Like me, Jacob has a sensitive heart and he was very troubled by name calling. He was the first person in the playground to defend another child being bullied by words, often before a teacher had a chance to intervene.
In our family, there has been a lot of discussion these past couple of months about words. Some of that discussion has been heated. We certainly don't all share a view of what's right or wrong in the world of words. At least we can talk about it - mostly. Words are important to me but I understand they're not as important to everyone else.
Over the past years, many people have become more conscious of the underlying slights in using certain words that years ago were common. Enlightened people don't talk about "jewing the price down" or being "gyped". They avoid expressions like "going dutch treat". They would never use the "n" word or call Italians "wops or Ginos" or speak of the Chinese as "chinks". And yet those same good people use terms in speaking about females that are offensive to me. Seems easy to me that pointing out those offending terms should bring them to an end. Yet doing so is what resulted in the heated discussions that have taken place in our family in the last few months.
Lest one think the offending term is something horrible, let me set the record straight right now - it is not. It is a good word. The right word when referencing a female of eight or eighteen. It's a word women use among ourselves whether eight or eighty. It's not really about the word. It's about the context of the word. The word is "girl".
During the broadcast of the Olympic games from Vancouver a couple of years ago, I became sensitive to the remarks of several broadcasters who were talking about the performance of the girls on the Women's Hockey Team. Use of the term "girls" didn't happen once, it happened several times. And every time I heard it, I bristled. Those same broadcasters never once referred to the boys of the Men's Hockey Team. I never heard a single reference to a male athlete using the term "boy". And yet I heard female athletes being referred to as girls, over and over again. Not being one to keep my opinions to myself, I sent a note to my friend Brian Williams and asked him to gently remind his colleagues that referring to women as girls, while referring to men as men is discordant.
At a recent family dinner, this subject re-arose. My request of one of the men at the table to consider the use of the word "girl" as inapt in describing a woman in her late twenties, resulted in a debate that still hasn't ended. It would seem I hit a nerve. Fair enough. Hearing women called "girls" has hit enough nerves with me. It's a bit difficult for me to understand why I offended the men with my request to consider their use of this term. Perhaps I didn't explain very clearly why it troubled me so much.
In a less enlightened time, when racism was blatant and rampant, it was not uncommon for men of colour to be referred to as "boys". It was a way white society had of marginalizing black men. We would all agree that was wrong. It shouldn't be so hard to make the leap to understanding why the same applies to referring to women as "girls". Enough said.
