Sticks and Stones

Ever had a child swear at you? No, not that kid, not the kid that you just told, “Close the chromebook,” or “Time for bed.” I’m talking about the child who swears at you and then afterwards you are left thinking, “What did I do?”

Swearing is an important part of communication, and I am a fan. I know not everyone is, but I find that it can convey a sense of community (in the right circumstance) and of course, adds emphasis to what we’re saying. There is a whole continuum of swearing, with people who swear so much that the emphasis part of that gets somewhat diluted, and people who never utter swear words, and I respect that choice.

Children swearing, though, is often seen as distinctly different. Some people believe that children should not be allowed to swear, and if we do pretend we cannot hear them swearing on the playground, that at the very least they are NOT to swear at adults.

I generally have a pretty relaxed attitude about it. I have long told children that if they are going to swear in front of me (in my office or in my own family), they can swear ABOUT things, but they may not swear AT people, or call them by swear names (no calling names is a regular rule in my office, so “swear names” is just a continuation of that rule). When kids are following those rules, I really don’t mind when they swear. Even if they are mad at me and using all kinds of swears.

Why doesn’t it bother me much? It doesn’t because I know if a child is throwing around those heavy words, they must feel pretty powerless. I understand that even adults who use those words in the context of a power differential, real or perceived, are doing so in order to exert some power of their own.

Full transparency – it does bother me more with teens and adults – but I still think that words used in an effort to hurt say much more about the person saying them than they say about me.

Image shows Maite laying on the deck from last summer. Her tongue is out and she looks relaxed. She is a great swearer.