I’m old English major, I write for a living and have been at my share of poetry readings and chatted with many an edgy writer. I love words and I love language and I’m a purist when it comes to freedom of speech. What I don’t love is when my kids use “colorful” language with me. I know if I was still that seventeen-year-old I used to be listening to graphic rock music and “keeping it real,” I’d think I was a drudgy old hypocrite. But, I don’t care, I don’t swear at them and I don’t want them swearing around me.
Here’s the thing, I “get” that they are working at being all hip and cool and I remember all too well how big of a part language is in that whole teenage identity process. When they were younger, I actually had more control and had them almost convinced that peppering their speech with lots of cursing made them appear dumber. Not to mention, I was worried that they wouldn’t know when it was okay and when it wasn’t (as in, don’t use the f-word at grandma’s house.) Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude and I certainly use a strong word or two gladly—but not with my kids. And, I expect them to use their teenage version of language in conversations with their friends. But, I’m bothered when they swear in conversations with me.
I’m pretty vocal and open about it and let them know that I’m not okay with it. Of course, they feel like I’m being square and very “un-chill.” They think it doesn’t seem to fit with some of the other aspects of my personality—how open and communicative I am with them on the whole, for example. In a way, they have a point. But, I think it’s my very passion for words and language that makes it a problem for me. Words have meaning and power for me and I spend my days choosing them carefully and using them purposefully. Despite what my kids think, to me, all that colorful language isn’t “nothing.” So, I’m the mom and I get to say what is and isn’t okay with me, and they can just learn to adjust.
And, if I’m being totally honest, I don’t like it when they call me “Dude” either.