Ignoring the possibly oxymoron "skinny broad" we head straight for the jugular. Name-calling, and PC violations. Name-calling can be demeaning and much has been said about it, including this little verse which I quoted Friday evening to BBBH during our cruise about.
Sticks and stones may break my bones
but words can never hurt me.
Being all PC herself, in that moment, she disagreed with me, asserting that words can and do hurt. She is in good company, for psychologists have written treatises on the topic. Anyway, for the record when she calls me "a big baby" I let it roll off and move on.
In this instance we find that "broad" is unacceptable language. It was her word, not mine and I merely quoted what she said. The term has fallen into disuse if not into disrepute, but anyone who grew up during the Forties knows full well that in certain strata of society the appellation was broadly used, so to speak.
Then there was "skinny." It seems that might under some circumstances qualify as a pejorative, e.g., when applied as a descriptor of an individual as it was in this case. When I was a child I was called "Skinny;" "String Bean;" during several school years, "Four Eyes;" as I reached puberty, "High Pockets;" and on occasion, "Red." Umbrage might have been taken but I don't recall that that was the case. More likely I was delighted that anyone paid attention to me.
Many of my acquaintances carried monikers which would possibly be considered inappropriate or demeaning in this day and age, and heaven forbid that anyone should have to suffer the indignity.
We called him "Stinky" because we were not creative enough, as Charles Schulz was, to come up with "Pigpen." "Gimpy" was arguably cruel, as was "Popeye." But then, kids are cruel. Walt Disney did not own "Dopey;" we had him, too. "Peewee," "Tiny," "Hulk," and "Tubby" are self-explanatory. Golden Roll seemingly had unlimited funds.*
Obviously we all ran to our secluded "safe places" and pined away the rest of our lives. We did not; we grew spines, stood tall and faced the cruel world.
*There were a couple of others that truly were inappropriate. I refrained from sharing them.
5 comments:
Mine was "Puffy." I grew up with 16 boys all within a year of my age...one or two girls...but it was mostly just me with the boys. They would say to me "Lin's too puffy to ride on a Huffy." And the name stuck.
Never got a single date out of the bunch. And yes, they still refer to me as Puffy.
I shudder when I think of the acceptable monikers of yesteryear. Slurs, I think they call them now. Different days...different times. Different sensitivities. I slip and use one every now and again and my kids are all over me. It's not intentional...it's just the terms we used back in the day.
I was Joan the Bone... it was the best they could do except for Egghead. Everyone teased and bullied and called people names. Strange how we survived and developed backbones, and (I think... although I didn't actually check the statistics) fewer serial killers/terrorists.
(I had to delete the original comment due to an error that I could not let stand.)
Words can hurt, terribly and often irreparably. And often the receiver of the derogatory words is not consciously aware of the damage being done until a lifetime of unhappiness causes them to seek help and the light dawns - I'm speaking from experience here.
Yes, we use less than kind descriptors but hopefully never in earshot of the person being described - that fact that we do it in private conversations with people we trust to share our sensibilities doesn't reflect all that well on our essential selves. Yet we all do it. I have no excuse and I often point out that 'saint' is just a part of my acquired name, not a description of my personage.
Yes, let's outlaw insensitive comments, especially during junior high, so people can grow up to be wimpy babies. Then we can establish more courts to handle lawsuits over hurt feelings. Maybe even have a prison for the insensitive. Not!
Everyone will be the target of insensitive comments at some time, and the sooner we learn it is the problem of the other person the better off we will be. If someone is trying to pull me down, I know they are under me. Feelings of inferiority cause the put-downs.
Lin, cute nickname. So happy that you shared the derivation. At least one of your buddies had an ear for poetry! I have known a few people whose nicknames followed them into adulthood, but since I moved around so much I had the opportunity to recreate myself from time to time. 😉
Sharkey, I'll just stick with "Sharkey" but Joan of Shark is very special.
Grace, confession: I do use some terms at home I would never apply in public, but even so I have purged my vocabulary of certain truly (potentially) hurtful terms lest my mouth happens to engage before the brain is in gear.
Vee, if everyone could come to realize that a "put down" is a misguided attempt to elevate oneself and adopt your outlook everyone could be happier. (I think I shall retreat to my safe place now.)
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