The following anecdote was recently shared with me. A very proper and fine English teacher in an elementary school brought in a cherished poem to share with the class. She’s the type of teacher many of us wish our children had. She loves literature and prose, feels poetry, is inspired by creativity and is able to share her love with the students in a way that makes them not even realize they’re learning and growing.

The day she brought in the poem, it was a busy Friday, and the students were antsy because of the long week as well as the dreadful end of winter weather that had reappeared. She described her poem’s essence – details of spring, and looked forward to “feeling” the warmth as she read it aloud to her fifth grade students. Some of the kids had other plans, and as she read, this small group was uncharacteristically disrespectful and rude. She had a long week as well, and just didn’t have the stomach to go against this tide. She closed her book abruptly, ended the session and moved on. Although she tried not to feel it, she was hurt. She was certain this poem would speak to the students the way it had always spoken to her, and that they would collectively explore it and bask in the warmth it offered. Oh well, she went on, without her usual upbeat sense.

At the end of the period, the class was dismissed. She sat quietly at her desk, while the kids left for recess. One girl stopped at her desk, and said the following: “Mrs. B – I just wanted to tell you what I thought about when you read that poem.” This young girl went on to describe a few details of her favorite parts of spring that the poem brought to her mind after the long winter. The teacher was touched beyond belief, and of course realized that her lesson, and her cherished poem wasn’t lost on the class.

Now this student is certainly a special girl in her own right – but I’m sure she had some great friends and role models along the way. Without even realizing what she was doing, the almost eleven year-old girl, moved a teacher of many decades to tears (of joy). The power of words – it’s so simple.

This month’s message is a call out to the thousands in our SpeakNicely community – do you agree with the presumptions put forth? I know this is a hot topic, so here goes (& I’m using an umbrella to block the cyber eggs being tossed my way):

I often find Facebook posts to be “brag posts.” Although I had never heard the term thrown around, I’m not the first to come up with the phrase. Brag posts can be anything from a photo, or a check-in, to a full-blown brag fest. We’ve all seen them: “Day at the salon with my besties in Switzerland!” “Here’s my after photo of bikini-me after six months with my posh personal trainer.” “Just renovated my 6000 square foot home, sigh, I only wish we were able to finish the wave pool before this summer ”

What’s the purpose of the brag post? I’m the first to admit that I like Facebook & the reconnect factor. But I often feel physically moved, not in a good way by what people post. In the same way that we all have the power to help or hurt our friends with our words, the sword is just as strong with the written word. What about the mom who can barely afford a once-a-month babysitter, reading about her friend in the Swiss Alps? What about the young woman struggling with her weight since early teens seeing (only the best angled of course) photos of her perfect-armed friend in tank tops? What about the family with a few kids living with their parents while the suffer through unemployment?

I’m not suggesting that we not share our good lives and good fortune with our friends. I’m just trying to share the other side of our posts. One good lesson from physics – every action has an equal and opposite reaction – this can also be applied to life. Post gently my friends.

Before you get too upset about the name of this post, know that I am directly quoting the mother who originally wrote this moving piece about her daughter. I have been in touch with Phoebe Holmes, a mother of 4 lovely kids and a blogger (among many other jobs & talents of course). She gave me permission to re-post the following. I encourage you to take a peek at her really funny and poignant musings on her blog: http://www.phoebeholmes.com The following posted originally a few weeks ago, and was entitled “Being Retarded.”

All around me, people use the word retarded without a second thought.  Sometimes, I’ll say “Um, dude, really?” and they’ll say “Oops, my bad!  But really!  I was being so retarded!”

Sometimes, I let it slide.  I realize that it’s a word that’s ingrained in our society’s vocabulary and people use it without a second thought to its meaning. But what does it mean to be retarded?  Well, I know what it doesn’t mean.

It doesn’t mean not being able to choose something for lunch despite 100 choices in front of you.

It doesn’t mean not being able to find your car keys.

It doesn’t mean saying the wrong thing to a person.

It doesn’t mean forgetting your best friend’s birthday.

It’s not something to describe yourself as when you’ve spilled your coffee, or tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.

It’s not something to describe your computer, car or phone.

According to  Merriam-Webster Dictionary  the word “retarded” means: slow or limited in intellectual or emotional development or  academic progress

For me, it’s not just any old word – it’s my daughter.  My beautiful, bright, happy, loving, amazing daughter who is slow or limited in intellectual development and academic progress.

In our household, being retarded means something different.

It means not being able to fully care for yourself.

It means not understanding what the doctor is going to do to you.

It means not being able to explain what hurts when something hurts.

It means not being able to ride a two wheeler.  Or read.  Or ever be able to live on your own.

But ever the optimist, I also know that retarded means…

…never realizing the negativity behind the word retarded.

…never knowing the insensitivity surrounded the word’s usage.

…never realizing the ignorance of people.

…never knowing how other people view you.

Being retarded also means…

…loving unconditionally.

…finding joy in the smallest of things.

…being self-confident.

…not realizing that there are limitations.

…innocence.

This is Maura.  Her diagnosis?  Cognitively disabled.  Which means retarded.  When you call yourself retarded, you’re also calling my child stupid.  Because you use the word as just that – another form of stupid. Let’s get something straight here.

My daughter may have cognitive issues.  She may have delays.  She may never live on her own.  Scratch that.  She will never live on her own.

But Maura is not stupid.

In her own way, Maura is very smart.  Maybe smarter than us at times.  She has more self-confidence than anyone I know who’s called themselves “retarded”.  She is the best judge of a person’s character than anyone else I’ve ever known.

Yes, she is slow to learn things.  But she is not stupid.

I know that most people don’t use the word “retarded” maliciously. Most people I know use it in a self-depreciating way.  And when I point it out, they go “Oh wow!  I’m sorry!” and they truly feel like a heel. But the thing is, you’re still using it in the way that people who do use it maliciously use it as – to describe stupidity.

So why not just use the word “stupid” instead?  Because I know what “retarded” is.  I live with it in the form of my daughter.  And in our world “retarded” doesn’t equate to “stupid”.

I’m embarrassed to admit: I’ve been known to watch reality TV. What’s worse is that I watch BAD reality TV about women being really mean to each other. Even while I’m watching, I’m wishing that I wasn’t. Luckily for me, my family doesn’t have cable at home, so I can only use this vice during a vacation. I’m always chalking up the first few days’ obsession to jet-lag (excuses, excuses!), but it is still such wasted time.

The one glaring reality of these shows is the HORRIBLE way the people speak to and about each other. It’s as if gossip is not only welcome, but encouraged. Most of these people may not have ever thought about the fact that gossip and back-stabbing, mean-spirited speech can or even should be avoided. Maybe I’m naive, but I don’t think I’m that naive. Usually these shows portray a life-style that people theoretically admire or desire (why else would the audience watch??); but throughout the shows, I am blown away by how miserable and unhappy these people must be. Most of the time they even seem miserable and unhappy but they go on camera talking about how amazing they/their lives/their friends/their husbands are, and how horrible the person with whom they’re having the current conflict is. I don’t have scientific proof on this one, but I cannot imagine that as audience members, we aren’t to some degree affected by this behavior. If we compare our viewing to a child or young adult in a home environment of constant bickering and mean-spirited speech, the affects would be more clear.

I did get myself out of the rut, but when I think about those shows and the HUGE numbers who watch them on a regular basis (many of whom are tweens and teens), I’m left to wonder how it’s possible for these kids to model appropriate behavior with their peers . . .  another incentive for parents to make sure their home-life reflects incredibly positive speech and interactions with each other, our children, and those we talk about when they’re not present.

We know the old adage,  “sticks & stones . . . ” & of course we know it’s not true. Pain is just as real (or more so) as a result of social aggression as it is from physical aggression & some argue that the pain of social rejection lasts even longer. We even have scientific research to back up these beliefs.
The UCLA Department of Psychology conducted a neuroimaging study that examined the neural correlates of social exclusion and tested the hypothesis that the brain bases of social pain are similar to those of physical pain. Participants were studied while they played a virtual ball-tossing game in which some players were ultimately excluded. Results showed that the brain reacted to the pain of social exclusion the same way it would if the participant were physically hurt. (Eisenberger, Lieberman, Williams (Does Rejection Hurt? An fMRI Study of Social Exclusion, 2003).

On that note, SpeakNicely founder, Audrey Weitz spoke (nicely) with Queens, NY Intermediate School students about the Power of Words. To lighten & sweeten the mood of what could be seen as an annoying topic for middle school students to discuss openly, SpeakNicely provided each student with a little bag of pretzel sticks & chocolate rocks, signifying sticks & stones. The students were awesome and their questions incredibly insightful. The sixth, seventh & eighth graders shared stories and asked lots of questions during an open mic session. The students were very open and beautifully well behaved! Hats off to the team at IS-10 for their hard work on behalf of some really lucky & special students.

I saw a bumper sticker recently that read “Be Nice to Your Kids – They’ll Choose Your Retirement Home.”

I’m sure the parents driving the car are lovely people who are probably nice to their kids. Then, what’s the message here? Are we telling the world that the reason we’re nice to our kids is because of something we’ll get in return later? Are we telling ourselves the same thing? Even more important to address: are we telling our kids that’s why we do things for them? Is this whole experiment in parenting a quid pro quo? Obviously not. Parents, and anyone who takes care of children, know that on the one hand, there really is no “pay-back” big enough to equal the task. But on the other hand, there really is NO effort that isn’t worth these most amazing gifts we been given to take care of.

A solid relationship with our children is really our decision. We can make it happen or not. There are those people who allow everything to slide off their backs, and nothing phases them. Their relationship with their kids will likely be smoother, but we all have to invest thought and energy in developing good relationships with our children (as individuals). Just as those with successful marriages put energy into their spouses, and we socialize with friends for our own entertainment or to deepen the relationship, we need to invest in our “relationship” with our children.

A teacher of mine, Mrs. A. David, shared a tactic she uses with her own children. I have been doing it for a few years, and the pay-off (on both giving & receiving end!) is outstanding. Once a week, do something unconditionally positive for each child. It can be something as small as buying a special snack, making their favorite meal or having their best pajamas clean and ready. The unconditional part comes in when we tell the child we did this deed, just because we know they would love it. Not because we love the child, not because the child got a good grade, or cleaned up his room. Just because.  Enjoy Being Nice!

The father of my daughter’s close friend has been battling what we all hoped would not be a life-threatening disease. After almost two years, our hopes have been replaced by a deep sense of uneasiness. This kind, sweet and gentle man has told us that the doctors have done all they can do, and it’s time for him to stop fighting. The following is his email. It speaks for itself, and I hope that it will serve as a real and deep inspiration to you, as it has for so many in our community.

“So many people have asked what they can do to help.  I’ve thought about that a lot, and there is something tangible that each and every one of you can do that would provide incredible comfort and support to me.  First, a bit of background: ‘Speech has been compared to an arrow: once the words are released, like an arrow, they cannot be recalled, the harm they do cannot be stopped, and the harm they do cannot always be predicted, for words like arrows often go astray. . . .  It has been said that disparaging speech kills three: the person who speaks it, the person who hears it, and the person about whom it is told.’

So, back to my idea as to how you can all help.  I am going to try to focus on this and avoid speaking negatively about people for the remainder of my life.  I invite each of you to join me in this effort, using my life as the commitment period — so it won’t be all too long .  Before committing, keep in mind that this is deceptively challenging.  In fact, take one day just to notice how often you find yourself disparaging a person, whether an enemy (or even worse, a friend!), a colleague, or someone that you actually might not even know that well at all.   I think you’ll notice that it’s remarkable how tempted we can be to fill a gap in a telephone conversation or at a meal with an unnecessary dig at some other person.  I am really looking forward to living out my days in an environment free from this kind of haphazard negativity.

This is what will provide me with the support that I need to get through this ordeal.”

Mixed Messages

SpeakNicely is inspired by many people, one of whom certainly needs her own SpeakNicely page: Sarah C. Radcliffe, who practices psychology in Toronto, writes so beautifully on parenting and often uses messages about the power of words. We’ve gleaned her articles, read her books, communicated and hope to even meet her some day. In the meantime we would like to share some of her writings with you. Following is an excerpt from one of her recent articles.

Adults and children get confused about their relationships. When a spouse criticizes the other often, or even yells, regardless of how many times the phrase “I love you” is uttered, he or she can’t say for sure how his/her spouse feels about them. The one thing they know for sure is that they no longer trust the other, or frankly, care for them very much.

Children can also become uncertain. Little Dini, for instance, can’t figure out whether her mother loves her or hates her. At times, she receives gentle, approving, even adoring attention. At other times, however, Dini experiences her mother’s “other side.” For no reason that she can decipher, her mother can be short-tempered and irritable, even explosive at times. Dini is only seven and knows nothing of the adult world and its stresses. She feels loved and adored, and hated and despised. She’s not sure if she’s a good girl or a bad girl. Experiencing the love-hate dynamic as “normal,” she grows up internalizing the lesson that “love hurts.” When she marries, her ability to establish healthy boundaries will be compromised. She’ll never have learned that people who love each other, treat each other well always, even when they are stressed or tired.

The Flip Side: Consistency

Rageful, hurtful, destructive communication has no place in any kind of loving relationship. Sure, people will feel irritated, hurt, and angry at their loved ones from time to time. And yes, they are allowed to express their emothions – but always with sensitivity to the person being spoken to. Being able and willing to put the brakes on one’s mouth is an essential skill for building and preserving the feeling of love in any important relationship. Use whatever resources you have, self-help, study/learning, or professional help – in order to acquire this ability. You owe it to yourself and your family.

Thank you Sarah for this thoughtful insight. Her book:

Raise Your Kids Without Raising Your Voice is filled with nuggets of easy to digest information with anecdotes and helpful tips.

Many people think their father is special. I know mine was. I could write a book and still fail to transmit how unique he was, but of course he was my dad, my children’s Papa, so we really feel his specialness. My father saw the good in EVERYONE. He didn’t struggle to see it, he didn’t work hard to diminish someone’s imperfections.  He just didn’t see them. I never heard my father speak ill of others.   He only saw good not only in everyone he knew but in the world as well.
As a child, he went to a camp in a lovely place called Oconomowoc, WI (pronounced: Uh-kah-no-muh-walk). Every morning, the staff would wake the children up by yelling into a megaphone, “It’s a beautiful day in Oconomowoc!” That may not have been the pleasant memory that many kids brought back from camp, but that is one of the one’s my father treasured.

Many mornings when I was a child, my father would enter our kitchen, and belt out, “It’s a beautiful day in Oconomowoc!” Of course I missed the depth of this statement for most of my life, but in his last years, I saw that it was a perfect metaphor for the way my father saw and lived his life. By many standards, he didn’t have a perfect life, but by his standards he did. In the height of his career, when his life’s work took a dramatic turn, he started a new career and thrived in that environment. He fought cancer for nine years, and almost never complained. Toward the end of his life, the doctors prodded and poked asking if he was in pain, and his response was almost always positive: “I feel good. I’m comfortable. I’m not in pain, etc.” Every day and every person in my father’s life was beautiful.

I shared this story with friends in the month after my father passed away and this is an email I received a few months later:

“I wanted to let you know that not a day has gone by since the event you held in your father’s memory that I have not said: It is a beautiful day in (Riverdale, Deerfieild Beach, San Juan, or just a plain beautiful day). Since I cannot thank your father directly I will thank you for that lesson.”

May my father’s memory be for a blessing.