That’s right. The “N” Word.
Unlike The F Word, the N word was totally acceptable at my house growing up.
It was a word used careless and fancy free, without a flinch from anyone.
All of that changed when I was 19. When I got on a plane and flew several thousand miles around the world.
All of a sudden, it was inexplicably a curse word in my brain.
It had history and meaning and baggage.
I couldn’t say it anymore. That’s right. I couldn’t say:
“Ugh, you’re such a grammar Nazi.”
“What are you, the recycling Nazi?”
Even said strictly within the company of Americans, it just felt wrong to say Nazi in Germany.
It’s also when my increasing fascination with the elderly began. Suddenly I couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but curiously peer at every old man that walked down the street. Had they been children during the war? Did they remember? Did they want me to call them the takes-a-walk-every-day Nazi?
Perspective does funny things to you.
What perspective shift changed your viewpoint as a young person? Or old, for that matter.
Do you say the N word?