The Case for Swearing Around Your Children
Sometimes dropping an F-bomb is ENTIRELY appropriate.
“They’re just sooooo F***ing STUPID!”
“Mommy! We do NOT call people ‘stupid’!”
Honestly, I have never been so grateful that something I said flew right over my preschooler’s head. It was late and I was sitting at the dining room table grading a particularly depressing group of lab practical exams. As anyone who’s taught for a few years can tell you, some classes just don’t perform as well as others. Clearly, I had strong feelings on the matter. While I don’t believe I did anything wrong, I admit to being relieved that my son had focused on the unkind usage of “stupid” rather than its immediate precursor.
To explain just why I needed to express myself so colorfully, allow me to provide some context. I taught at a local university and that semester one section of my labs lagged behind all the others. Getting them to interact with the material was a challenge and where my other classes had lively discussions, this class showed absolutely zero interest. It didn’t matter how much extra time or effort I put into working with the students. They invariably scored much lower than their peers and the term was almost over.
As the frequency of red pen marks increased and my sounds of frustration escalated, my husband set a long stem glass and bottle of wine in front of me. I dropped my pen, looked into his eyes, and slowly and despondently declared “They’re just sooooo f***ing stupid!” Little did I know that my firstborn had gotten out of bed, crept down the stairs, and was hovering just around the corner. He burst into the room and chastised me while I sat there a bit abashed and my husband struggled to suppress the urge to laugh.
To my young son, using the word “stupid” was a high crime! After a bit of his scolding, I agreed he was right, and kissed him on his little head. My husband put him back into bed while I took a loooong drink of wine. Miraculously, the F-word was overlooked… or at least he never tested out this new word at preschool. That night, I was exceedingly grateful that my entreaties to always be kind had taken hold where my foul language had not!
I still think that my use of the “f-word” that night was entirely appropriate. I had struggled, stressed, and worked so damn hard for months to no avail. I had already been told by my bosses that I cared too much, but I STILL don’t know how not to care about the performance of an entire class. Not worrying about a single apathetic student was one thing, but writing off all of them was just not something I could do. Despite my best efforts, most were going to fail. As error after error accumulated on the answer sheets, I needed to express how I was feeling.
While I usually try to avoid foul language in front of our three boys, I’d be lying if I said they don’t hear it on a regular basis. The f-word is rare, but “hell”, “damn it!” and “shit” all are part of my normal vocabulary. To be clear, I don’t use them every other word, nor do I curse at my children. I’m selective in my swearing and often it fits the definition of an exclamation.
Mostly, I’d argue that swearing should have a point. “Heck yeah!” doesn’t have the same emphasis as its coarser siblings. Would the line “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a darn.” have been so perfect? HELL NO! I also don’t want my little darlings growing up and ONLY being able to express themselves through profanity; this is why I usually try to limit my use of four letter words. There is a time and a place, and in the middle of communion at church is neither.
So far, none of our sons have been caught swearing, but I’m sure it’s coming soon. The eldest is eight, after all. If I let one slip, I usually ignore it. Other times, I’ll apologize for cursing. Sometimes I emphasize that it was for a good reason. I also let my boys know that while adults are allowed to use those words, children their age definitely are not. I try to speak frankly with them at all times, and they know they’re allowed to ask questions at any time- even the uncomfortable ones.
This leads me to a recent conversation with our eldest. I had injured myself while building a fort from scrap wood and “SHIT!” just came out. My words vibrantly expressed what my throbbing thumb was feeling.
“Ship? Why did you say ship, mommy?”
“Uhhh…” I thought about just playing along, but decided to be honest.
“I said ‘shit’, son, because I smashed my thumb and it HURTS! S-H-I-T.”
I spelled the word for him.
“What’s shit?”
I sighed and decided to define and explain the word. I even clarified that while “shit” is normally something negative, “the shit” could be something really good or impressive. He nodded along, and I reminded him he wasn’t allowed to use that kind of language until he was older. At the end, he seemed completely satisfied with his lesson on the word “shit”.
“Okay, mom. Thanks.”
It’s been a few months now and he still hasn’t used the word, at least not around adults. Either he’s forgotten or he’s still respecting our arbitrary rules about the use of expressive, adult language, and isn’t that ENTIRELY THE POINT. He’s showing discernment and care in his use of language! He knows the words and he’s choosing not to use them! (yet)
Older generations may disagree, but as they grow up, I want my sons to utilize the full diversity of our language- swear words and all! Words like “dang”, “darn” and “heck” just don’t have nearly the same meaning and punch. So when I hear someone say that I shouldn’t use “that kind of language” what I actually hear is that they don’t think I should mean what I’m saying or feel what I’m feeling. I believe that when used correctly, swearing can be a healthy, normal, and entertaining part of the English language. “Foul language” adds emotion and spice to our speech. It even has substantial pain-relief value!
For now though, I’m still not too much of a rebel, especially in our very religious and conservative state. I want them to avoid cursing in church, at school, or in public- at least until the majority agrees that they are old enough without raising too many eyebrows. Ultimately, when it comes to our boys, I feel the same way about coarse language as I do about sex education and morals. I’d rather teach them myself instead of letting their peers or the schools do it.
Don’t like it? Then, my friend, you may kindly F*** OFF!
