Why I’m dropping ‘stupid’ and ‘idiot’ from my vocabulary
A case for rethinking the societal language around intellect and disability
When was the last time you felt stupid?
I don’t remember the first time I was called stupid. Or an idiot. Or daft. But it was said enough times for me to believe it. It’s something I feel every day, and an identity I’m worried I’ll never shake off.
I was born with a neurological developmental disorder that, in short, causes a delay between what my brain says and what my body does. It makes it hard for me to control how I move and communicate. My mouth fumbles, so I stutter out broken sentences and stumble on words. My legs don’t respond right away, so I lose my balance and have an ungainly walk. My hands don’t always do what I tell them to, so my ability to grip, catch or hold things can be poor.
At school, I was unable to communicate fully with the people around me, and this was perceived as a reflection of my intelligence. I was quickly labeled a problem child, told I could never go to university and pressured to drop out of education early to safeguard against my impending bad exam results on the school’s overall reputation. Words like ‘idiotic’, ‘stupid’ and ‘moron’ were hurled at me — often by teachers, and often in front of other pupils. Things like that have a habit of seeping into the…
