Julie Pippert: Using My Words

Image source and story of image: National Galleries of Scotland If you were to ask me, I'd tell you that I tend to say things other people dare not say. I speak my mind. I don't always coat my words with a generous dollop of ass kissing. Many people consider averted eyes, swallowed words, and sugar coating their due. Skipping this is perceived as disrespectful. It never quite got me to bite my tongue, though, even at times I perhaps should have. I was bold, arrogant, and defensive about this, as the youth often are about their immaturity. But as I entered my mid-thirties and beyond, I began noticing a disturbing pattern: a tendency to swallow my words and sugarcoat. Was this maturity? Wisdom? Or was it a desire to please? Was I tired and worn down? I sat down and looked backwards--- Russo-style , through the opposite end of the telescope---and tried to figure out if I'd ever been as bold out loud as I was in my mind. Was I? Had I been? Could I be? Should I? I believe I was...

Patience's Saturday picture. This one is of our family, showing how we blend and blur and reflect one another. We had gone for a short visit to a college town I hadn't been to in almost 20 years. I found it completely changed. All of the rough edges had been polished smooth and pretty. It showed in the high prices of everything. What had once been a dirt parking lot with slightly dilapidated Word War II era houses was now a paved, metered parking lot ringed by modern strip shopping centers filled with trendy restaurants and shops. The cars, once older model student cars, were now flashy new SUVs. Dark areas, such as an alley, were now well-lighted, and the alley was cleverly named with a fancy sign over the entrance. The restaurant bar they wanted to go to for old time's sake---because it had once figured prominently in their daily lives---clung bravely to its character, amid gentrified competition. The exterior was splintery and rough, the tables plain and unbalanced, coat...

I will share a little family history today. I am usually more circumspect. However, for a tiny glimpse into a bit of a why about me and this month, I will share this story. It's never the whole story or the only story, and it's never only about me, the writer. However, I've written it as completely and honestly as possible, although I'll admit to editing a bit out of respect of privacy. That Christmas I felt ebullient. If emotions could make you glow, I shined brighter than the lights on the tree. I was in love. Big time love, grown-up love. Going to the chapel and gonna get married love. And he had agreed to spend Christmas with me. I set aside the fears and worries about bringing him home to my extended family. He was so wonderful I knew they'd suddenly morph into the amazing, loving, close-knit and welcoming family I always wished I had. How could they not glow in his presence, too? This was only the second time I'd brought a man to meet my extended family. T...

Your neighborhood matters. On the Today show this morning, a real estate expert explained how your home value is related to your neighbors, and bad ones can drag it down. In fact, she said, a major reason people move is to escape bad neighbors. I know this can be true. When we lived in Boston, we rented half of a two-family. It was divvied up with one small unit on the first floor (ours) and one larger unit on the second floor (theirs). When we first moved in, our neighbor was a nice single lady with a son, about ten years old. Great neighbors. She moved out a year later, and the New People moved in. Whereas our previous neighbor had respected the fact that she shared space, the New People didn't seem to at all. They hung out on the porch directly in front of our room, with no concern for the fact that they were loud, it was late, it intruded on our space, and they were using our furniture. One gorgeous day we had all the windows and doors open. I came in from outside to find the...

My last post asserted there is no magic word, and I received comments with excellent points to ponder. So, I decided to think further about the power of words. Each word we use or write is imbued with meaning. There's power in that. Not magic per se, but power. No word, in my opinion, has half as much power as your name. In fact, what to call people, when to use which name, and so forth is one of the bigger debates I've ever seen. Should children call you, "Miss Missy?" Or just "Missy?" Or "Mrs./Ms./Miss Missus?" What if you strongly prefer children to simply call you Missy, but your friend prefers that her children call you Miss Missy, and that your children call her Miss Othermissy? Or what if you prefer Mrs. Missus but your friend prefers the more casual Missy and introduces you that way? Whose preference takes precedence? What is your preference, and why? Is it personal, or cultural? I was raised to call adults, primarily, sir or ma'am, n...