Recently, in a moment of frustration, my daughter called me an ass. I wasn’t taken aback. Just the day before, she’d heard me call another driver who’d cut me off an ass. I had to steal away to stifle a laugh at the seriousness with which my seven-year-old delivered the insult.
My husband and I don’t often let curse words slip in our conversations, yet they occasionally emerge. As someone who cherishes language, I recognize that there is an abundance of adjectives at our disposal. However, sometimes, a person is simply acting like an ass or a situation is downright ridiculous. And I’ll confess, these instances appear to have multiplied over the past year.
Growing up, using “bad language” meant facing reprimands or punishment. I was raised in a household where even *fart* was frowned upon. My husband’s mother wouldn’t buy certain dips because of their reference to unpleasant places.
This rule often felt more focused on how others perceive us than on a true reflection of character. I witnessed some awful behavior from individuals who never let a curse word escape their lips.
Although there are contexts where I wouldn’t want my daughter using specific language—like at school or her grandparents’ house—I have no intention of punishing her if it happens. So far, despite hearing “bad language” at home, we haven’t received any reports of her teaching classmates curse words. (I might just have jinxed myself there.)
There are, however, words I wish my daughter encountered less frequently. Words like dumb, stupid, ugly, or fat. Any negative or prejudiced language is something I actively discourage: these words can hurt others and can even be turned against ourselves, damaging our confidence and self-worth.
Outside our home, words like stupid are heard much more often than ass. These types of words appear not only in the books she reads and the shows she watches but also in conversations at school. Unlike terms we categorize as “bad language,” these words typically don’t spark outrage or lead to book bans, even though they may inflict greater harm than the four-letter variety.
Now that I’m a parent, I prioritize raising a child who isn’t an asshole over the occasional slip of the word ass. The reports from school that would truly disturb me would be related to her mistreating others or failing to show respect and kindness.
Sadly, she has already endured the sting of being teased and bullied by her peers. Experiences of ridicule, being called names like stupid, and facing exclusion have been painful for us as parents. Yet, these moments have opened avenues for important conversations about how she deserves to be treated and how she should treat others.
The truth is, you can clean up your language by avoiding “bad” words, yet that doesn’t mean you’re free from using words that wound others. Our manner of speaking and how we treat others holds more significance than the occasional use of a curse word.
I want my daughter to grow into a kind human who understands the effect her words and actions have on those around her. I wish for her to be neither a bully nor someone who believes that merely avoiding bad words makes them a good person. It’s crucial she knows that her beliefs shouldn’t grant her permission to treat others poorly.
In essence, I want her to be not an asshole.
Sara Rowe Mount writes about motherhood, mental health, neurodivergence, and more for various publications, including Scary Mommy, Business Insider, and HuffPost. Besides writing, Sara has experience in educational settings, especially in literacy workshops. She is the mother of an incredibly imaginative, neurodivergent daughter.
