My mother has always been zealous about language. She loves words and can choose, with ease and grace, the perfect word to express exactly what she is thinking. Growing up, I never heard my parents curse frequently, hold the occasional “damn” when they thought I was not listening. Naturally, when my mother heard me curse for the first time, it came as a shock. I was probably in fifth grade, and was in my sister’s car when I heard the radio DJ say, “Bitching bikes”. Having no idea, whatsoever, about the word’s meaning, I proudly repeated the phrase in a loud yell, to my audience: my Mother, My Grandmother and my Father. My Mother was not mad at me, and I did not get in trouble. Later, however, she discussed with me the importance of choosing the most accurate word to express your idea. She preached that “Using curse words is a sign of a low vocabulary”, and despite rising anger inside, there is always a more descriptive word to use than a vulgar word. The true definition of an obscene word is almost always betrayed, leaving an empty, meaningless shell of a word that has no use other than to express anger without giving reason, which is not very effective. If you cannot effectively and accurately express your feelings, how can you expect others to understand them?
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