For the Love of Words

With another bit of my childhood innocence weathered, I would come to my mother sulking with some careless words used against me that I perceived as harsh, mean, bad, hurtful.  In her best confident and reassuring tone, she'd remind, "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you."  Being a mother now myself, I think I understand why she offered this advice.  Likely to protect me, or to restore a confidence she thought was lost, and a heart that might have been broken.  Still, it felt empty then, and it does now.  Or maybe it was that anger replaced the sadness...or vice versa.  A piece of my heart hardened, I saw Life as something that isn't working for or with me, rather against me.  I was equipped to face the world, regardless of what it said to me-or what I said to it.

For me, this adage continued to be a contemplation, rather than a closed door.  In time, I decided not to give up on childhood innocence, an open heart, or Erica Weinstock and her posse.  A lover of the waxing and waning of words-I think language is more powerful than ever now.  The words we have been equipped with, and we choose, and are growing into are so important in how we engage in relationship - from our own self-talk to how we frame things for our children to how we have the more courageous conversations begging to be discussed.

"Language is almost all we have left of action for those of us in the modern world....unless we are in Syria, or we are in Iraq...but for many of us action has become what we say." This quote by Marie Howe is the lesson I have been striving to learn, I think, for most of my life.  Especially lately in a world that seems to cheapen language and give little thought as to how words may affect one another.  We sling words at one another through social media, political campaign ads, news; or when we can't say no, can't handle the truth of our own suffering, want something for our own personal gain like sharp shooters in a Western.

Well, just this week, I was put to the test in using my words as love in action when my family and I ate at Guido's in Ocean City, MD.  I noticed the words, etched on the back of the t shirt: "Tequila makes my clothes come off."  I am not sure if the words wouldn't stop looking at me, or if I wouldn't stop looking at the words.  Just when the shock of what I saw and my plan-of-action thoughts were at odds with each other, my younger son pulled me back into the present, asking me if we could go to the bathroom.

As we headed to the bathroom, I started my quiet survey--all the wait staff were women (that I could see). Some wore the shirts with the quote on the back.  Some wore shirts that didn't have the quote.  All appeared capable of keeping their clothes on, or sober, or both.  How could this self-reviewed "family friendly restaurant" put these words out there?!  I cringed-1 point down for feminism; several more points down for humankind.  Two stars down for my own review of the restaurant.  Childhood innocence came rushing back to me on two levels--my own knocking some grown-up sense into me...of course, this can happen-it DOES happen everywhere, all the time.  And then my sons.  I looked at them, grateful they can't read yet as I kept secret what my brain was processing.  

But, my boys!  The language on these shirts spoke hugely of a misogynistic culture, and over-sexualized society.  -And worse, they were disrespecting the very humans brandishing the t-shirts.  Look, I was in OC, MD.  I know much cruder words are brandished in shops up and down the boardwalk, but when the restaurant claims they are family-friendly?!  I guess it would be appropriate to put naked, drunk women-friendly too??  

Deciding on some gentle investigation, I asked my waitress, "Do you have wear the shirt, or was it her choice?"  After an "Ugh" and a "Yes, it is a part of the uniform..." she quickly passed the quote off as simply a joke, nothing to be taken too seriously.  -That she's not really like that.  She wasn't bothered by it. But I could see that it did.  But there was that self-preservation, protection, that discounting of the heart that I remembered so clearly from my own experience of "Sticks and stones...."   I could almost see myself sitting in the Guido's pre-dinner rush wait staff huddle where the manager went over what to say "when a customer asks...."

I looked over at my husband and without saying anything, he knew what I had to do and said I support you 100% in saying something.  We ate dinner and weaving in and out of the storytelling; highlights of the day; riddles my older son makes up; and rhyming songs my younger one makes up, I'd have moments of worry, "Will I hurt anyone's feelings?"  I had a moment of unworthiness, " Will saying anything really have impact or bring about any kind of awareness?"  I wondered if saying anything at all was worth expending my energy.  I will admit that self-righteousness by the way of the ego, rose up too, "They need to know how wrong that is-it will change when I say something."

Luckily, my heart spoke loud and clear: "Your children are watching you live your Truth-stay committed to the work of aligning with your heart. Keeping your word to be Love in action."  SO, I spoke up.  

I requested to speak with the manager, who, I was both grateful and saddened, was an attractive woman.  Words flowed out of me, without plan, and with much Grace.  "How do you think this helps our young ones respect themselves? Others?"   Words of connection.  "Woman to woman, couldn't we shift the culture-especially when we are the majority in that particular culture-if we made requests to how we want to be treated and represented, and if those requests aren't met, refuse to engage in a culture that degrades, diminishes, and disempowers?"  Words of love.  "I want to raise my children to see women AND men who love their bodies and choose to display them as self-expression that has nothing to do with alcohol or an over-sexualized society."  Words of understanding.  "If the t shirt is from a popular song or sold the best (which were real reasons the manager offered--shouldn't we be upset about that, as women?  Rather than feed the culture."  Words came through me that also had space for listening.  She told me thank you for sharing.  I thanked her for listening and told her I thought the food was delicious and the wait staff was professional and friendly, despite my disappointment in the quote. I hoped that rather than rolling their eyes while I walked away (at this point two hostesses were listening in), that they would have a real discussion and consider the impact of the t shirts on a bigger level.

I am not really sure of the impact I may have had in that conversation.  What I DO know is that when I got back to the car, I got the opportunity to answer my son's question, "What were you saying to that woman, Mamma?"

One point for Mamma; one point for feminism; several points for humankind.  And the opportunity to use my words for radical goodness.  A call to Love in Action, indeed.