I used to censor my language when my daughter was in my presence. I have also asked others to edit theirs appropriate for a PG audience. But when she turned teenager and increasingly as she got older, I’ve decreasingly exercised editorial control over my words. And if I’m in a very frustrating situation, I would let off f-bombs and curse that people take up far too much space and some aren’t even deserving of oxygen—while in her presence. What happened to me?
I don’t think it’s my daughter. She has heard me use profanity and when she was younger, even brought home the f-word. I personally don’t think that swearing in and of itself is a bad thing. If it doesn’t denigrate a person or people, it’s just blowing off steam! In fact, some studies even indicate that swearing is a sign of high language fluency! Cursing someone with the intensity of a thousand swords is far more imaginative than telling them to ‘piss off’.
I don’t think it’s society. Of late, our world has become very fragmented and divisions are exploited. But general media and even news agencies still do a pretty go job a managing vocabulary and imagery—the narrative not so much. And for kicks, late night comedians have gotten more creative in delivering laughs and jibes on the incredulous idiocy of our society.
I don’t think it’s my family or my friends. My connection with family and friends, as common to many of us, has decreased. Ironically, even social media isn’t used to connect people in the way it was once intended. In fact, my direct dialog has diminished to a point where sometimes, my daughter is the only one I speak to for days. Others outside our household are done via emails and text messages.
Even though I raised her, her generation is ironically unfamiliar to me.
So, I think it’s me. For nearly a decade and a half, I have practiced censorship because I was a dad trying to raise a daughter. I wasn’t necessarily censoring myself, but the raunchiness of the world. As her provider and defender, she got the best part of me as I repackaged the world for her age-appropriate consumption. However, the core of who I am is defined by my Generation X. I grew up with a high degree of independence and I don’t complain very much as I either do it myself or go without. My ethos of grunge and pithy demeaner never really went away; it just never had opportunities to be expressed with my young daughter. I still listen to alternative music and wear my emotional armor. Even though I have deep-seated skepticism to tradition and authority, I am old school and know the path to enlightenment is inward reliance rather than outward rebellion.
So as my daughter grows older and comes into her fold, I find two things are happening to me. Even though I raised her, her generation is ironically unfamiliar to me. Her sense of music, clothing, style and even colloquialism are statements of who she is; I never taught her any of this. And as she inevitably needs less of me to look after her, I find that I’ve gravitated back to my old self and autonomy. It’s not that I don’t like people; I can be very social. But the exchange must be uplifting. The experience has to be positive as much as I try to elevate theirs. But generally, most people haven’t read a good book lately much less learned something new. I just find that most people aren’t very interesting.
To put it in relatively modern terms, I grew up in the 80s and my attention span lasts exactly one hour less the 8 minutes of commercials. Then I need to switch shows or topics. If I’m going to invest 52 minutes, it had better be worth my while. And I’m not afraid to walk away in the middle of a sen—.
