Tag Archives: language

Words hurt, if you let them

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In the 21st century, the adage “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” has been revised by some people to say, “…words definitely hurt me” or “words can hurt me.” The revision shows how people have given up control of their emotions.

I always believe that it is better to say nothing if you have nothing good to say about another person; I also believe that people who call other people names should not be given the power to control other people’s emotions by getting the reaction they expect to get. Only immature people or bullies would resort to name-calling or ad hominem attacks. And being immature or bullies, they enjoy getting their targets riled up. That is power.

In the Philippines, the word “moros” used to be a derogatory term equated with savagery, treachery, and anything and everything bad. The Muslims in Mindanao were aware of this, and true to their nature of being a tough people, they refused to let a mere word hurt them. They reclaimed the word “Moro” and it has since lost its negative meaning in the country.

The Filipino-Chinese are often called “intsik” behind their back. In 2020, columnist and historian Ambeth Ocampo wrote about the Filipino-Chinese reclaiming the term. But long before that, in 1998 an anthology of Chinese Filipino writings edited by Caroline Hau was published and it was titled Intsik. (It’s available on Amazon, and also at AbeBooks. I got a copy from a friend whose story is included in the anthology.) They had already reclaimed it.

Ugly nicknames, slurs — words that are meant to hurt will hurt only as far the recipient will allow them to hurt.

Don’t let mere words control your feelings and your actions. Don’t let bullies have power over you.

On Originality

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Is there such a thing as an “original” idea?

Folk tales have no known authors because printing was not yet invented when they were first told. There were no publishing companies nor patenting offices to which one could go to for claiming ownership of the tale.

Isn’t it true that sometimes we come up with an idea which we think is so original only to find out a few days later that someone somewhere in a far, far away place across the ocean, someone had already thought of it decades or centuries ago?

Maybe there’s no such thing as an original idea, but that some are more fortunate than others in having access to a technology that can make them claim ownership of a particular idea.

I know this musing is not original either. Someone somewhere in the same town or across the ocean must have thought the same, either a minute ago or centuries ago.

Books, Language and Autism

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E. at the Manila Ocean Park

My son is going to be 9 soon, but in his last appointment with his developmental pediatrician, he was assessed as having the language ability of a 3-year old.

Over the years, I have read articles on how to teach a minimally verbal child like him speak; he has had several tutors, special education teachers and therapists. Though he has progressed much in other areas, cognition and language are areas where he has made slow progress. Yet, I am still very hopeful that one day he will speak. What I keep reminding myself is what I heard from one speech-language pathologist a couple of years ago — for some kids, it takes a longer time for speech to come out. But as parents, we should keep “inputting data” (language) into their brains. Just because they are not speaking does not mean we have to stop teaching them to speak

And this idea is what gives me hope.

For the first five years of his life, I read to my son almost every night and that led to him being able to recite about 20 of his books from cover to cover. I started reading Beatrix Potter’s Jemima Puddleduck to him when he was not even a year old, and he loved the sound of — I’m not sure if it’s my voice, or the flow of the words, or both but he made me read it over and over again until he memorized the whole book. I would intentionally leave out a sentence, and he would say it to me over and over again until I said the line myself!

Being autistic with sensory issues, E. has a habit of chewing on things that he likes. And because he loved his books then, he chewed on all of them. Before that Jemima Puddleduck book became badly damaged from being chewed on, my husband came up with the idea of scanning it so our son could view it on the computer. But it wasn’t the same for E. . And that book was forgotten for a couple of years.

When our living arrangement changed, I felt bad not being able to read to him at night. Then one day I saw the scanned pages of Jemima Puddleduck and decided to make a read-aloud video of it. When I finally played that video for him, the smile on his face when he saw those pictures and heard my voice reading the book was more precious than a pat on the back anyone has ever given me in my whole life!

I have since made read-aloud videos of his other books, and my sister tells me they can tell when he’s missing me as he would ask to watch those videos instead of his favorite movies.

My husband and I had big dreams for our son — we had hoped he would get a much better education than we did and be interested in learning. We were eager to let him study what we, in our youth, were unable to because our parents couldn’t afford them. We had dreams for him to fulfil OUR dreams.

But life happens.

Those dreams came crashing down with his diagnosis. I honestly do not think any parent can say they left the doctor’s office thankful for the ASD diagnosis of their children. An adult person with ASD can probably be thankful for the diagnosis as it leads to an understanding of oneself. But for a parent of a child with ASD , it is different, especially when that child is non-verbal, and E. at 2 years old was still not talking. So yes, it was devastating.

But as parents, we can only be resilient. Though it took my husband a few weeks to get out of his depression, once he did, he accepted the challenge of raising a son with autism.

Now we have a new dream for our son, a much simpler and more practical one: for E. to live independently and happily.

But to get there, he has to have better language ability. And I have not only hope, but also faith, that that day will come. That with the help of his teachers and therapists, who teach him patiently and his family who love him unconditionally, he will be able to use the language that has been stored in his brain all these years. That my son will be talking to me non-stop; and I promise to God, when that day comes, I will not complain that he won’t stop talking!