Yesterday was the 2013 day to commit to ending the use of the “r” word.
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I think you know which word I mean, and as today’s the day after I am not going to use the word. When I was a kid, the “r” word was commonly used and not considered offensive, at least not when used without intent to disparage, but then again the words “colored” and “negro” were also commonly used in the 1970s so a lot of things have changed. But even when used without intent to disparage it did paint every person with an intellectual disability with the same wide brush, and we’re definitely a lot more aware of differences and compassionate about understanding people as individuals than we were back then. (See, some things are better about society!)
A couple of months ago my oldest son used the “r” word in a rather casual aside toward his little brother, and I immediately brought everything that was going on to a stop. I asked him if he knew what it meant, and he did have some sense of the concept of lagging or slowness that the word still carries when applied to inanimate objects and how they function, which is fine for a budding engineer. I asked him where he’d heard it and he said the playground (of course). I asked him how he thought a couple of different people we know who have loved ones with degrees of autism might feel if the person they loved was called the “r” word, because those are the best examples I could give him in our immediate community. He was confused, because he knows what autism is and recognizes it as just another challenge someone he knows is dealing with, but I pointed out to him that there are people who would dismiss one or another of the autistic people he knows with the “r” word, and it would be hurtful to them and the people who love them, who are people HE loves very much.
I could practically see the realization dawn on him and he insisted he got it – I almost think he had used it intending it to mean the slow cog in the wheel, really, because he seemed so astounded to realize that he had suggested his brother had an intellectual disability and that he could have offended someone else entirely (someone whose feelings he cares about a lot more than those of his little brother!!) in doing so. I don’t know what he processed out of the whole thing other than that using the word will only hurt someone’s feelings so just don’t do it, but I haven’t heard “the word” since.
At this point there really are an endless list of “words”, and they pop up like Whack-a-Mole. Last October when we were trick-or-treating my friend’s son, a 4th grader, greeted another mutual friend’s son, a 5th grader. The 4th grader said “Hi, [name]!” and the 5th grader immediately replied with “Hey, Mexican.” The other 5th graders he was with laughed, and my fellow mom and I gasped. The 4th grader seemed astounded as well, probably in no small part because the 5th grader is the one of Hispanic descent aside from the fact that none of us expected him to be unkind, and it was hard to interpret the intent otherwise. I never said anything to the 5th graders mother, and as far as I know the 4th grader’s mom didn’t either. I would be too embarrassed, although at the same time if it were my kid I would want to know so I could take him behind the woodshop and give him an earful.
It’s a lot to keep up with as our kids get older. When I was in junior high, the term “Schaum” took on a life of its own, and while I can’t really explain what we thought it meant I guess it was suggesting that certain boys were cheesy mulletheads from a far-flung suburb none of us had actually visited. Now it just seems ridiculous, and snotty, but it also seems inevitable. I do think we’re making a greater effort to raise conscious, kind children these days, but there will be stumbles. We had a stumble of our own in this house, but I hope we’ve picked ourselves up and are moving forward without it.
