I am a lover of words, but I have had a very conflicting week when it comes to words. I know I take most things too seriously, but I really take words very seriously. Even though my father never laid a hand on me, I was battered and bruised by his words and I still live with the scars left by those words. I can remember as a pre-school teacher I would have kids run up to me tattling, “OOOO! He said a bad word!” Usually the word was something like “butt” and I usually wanted to laugh, but I always asked them how the word was used. Did he say, “I fell on my butt” or did he call you a butt? And I always took the opportunity to tell them no word is a bad word- it is how they are used that give them a value. And that any word can be used in a bad way, to hurt someone or start a fight for example. There are some words I don’t use because I just don’t like them. Most of them I will not share here because they are socially unacceptable, some of them are just words I don’t like the sound of like “moist”!
On Monday I was at my internship at a high school, helping to direct a play. I was finally asked to help with some blocking and I came up with a good solution. The kids weren’t getting their motivation so I tried to explain the situation to them in words they would understand. I sort of forgot I was not at the University and used a word I probably should not have used. Not a terrible word, probably the only curse word I use- no taking the Lord’s name in vain or any of that. I didn’t even really realize I did it. But a few girls giggled and the teacher scolded them. Later on, the boy I had been talking to told me that he really understood his motivation now and thanked me. I apologized to him for my slip and to the teacher- twice. On arriving at home I immediately consulted all of my teacher friends (and I have a lot) and most of them laughed at me. I just knew I would be fired. They assure me I will not.The sad thing is, I almost never cuss!!
On Tuesday I was with a few students at the university and I said I was very “fastidious.” I got blank stares. I realized they did not know what that meant so I was about to tell them the definition when I realized they are college students and I can not talk down to them. So I just kept going and I hope they went home and looked it up. (However, I am not an idiot an I know they did not! Only nerds like me look everything up!)
One of my son’s duties at his job is recording the sports updates for the top of the hour from 3pm until 7pm. He is also the voice of many of the commercials you hear on this group of stations. I love to wake up to his voice on the clock radio by our bed. And when I am a little sad, turning on the radio to hear his voice can pick me right back up! I love the natural tones of his voice and the way he so clearly and beautifully pronounces words.
I enjoy my classes where we get to talk because I love to hear the voices and word choices of my fellow students. They make me laugh and cry and sometimes they make me angry. But mostly they inspire me. My trouble is I am so afraid to wound anyone that I carefully select and craft words until the time to speak has passed. Many times before I decide to speak someone else has made my point and I am OK with that. After all that is what we are doing, communicating with each other and helping each other. It does not have to come out of my mouth!I have no ego where that is concerned. However, in this one instance, no one was saying what I felt. So I jotted down words, the right words, to convey what I wanted to say, but in a positive and helpful manner. The time passed me by before I got the courage to share what I had decided were the correct words. And then the professor told the student EXACTLY what I had written down, used the same words I had so carefully crafted and everything! So it got said and by the person she needed to hear it from more than she needed me to speak. And it made me realize maybe my ideas and opinions aren’t as useless as I would think. I am sure I will not get a good grade on participation in this class since I do not speak as much as most, but I am OK with that as long as the right things are said, by me or anyone else.
So it is only Wednesday and I feel like words have consumed me all week. Between my Shakespearean monologue which I did on Monday (not the sonnet I wrote about but a monologue. It was so much easier to learn because a) I had learned the sonnet so I was less terrified and b) I had a character to hide behind!) to my horrible blunder at the high school and all of the words I have used, heard, thought about and written since, I have definitely had a week of words.
I love to write words and say the words that playwrights and lyricists give me. I figured from that I would love to write plays, but last semester I realized that was probably not my gift. Blogging- sure! Papers for school- yes! Stories and even books- definitely! Plays- not so much. I will stick to the joy of interpreting other people’s words on stage and when singing and I guess I will keep carefully choosing the words I use in my everyday life and in class. I know how words can wound and stifle and I also know how they can inspire and enthrall.
