Ordinarily Offensive
I went to college at a small midwestern Christian liberal arts school. At the time, it had about 1800 students, and perhaps fewer than fifty of those students were African-American. The school tried to recruit more minority students, but it was a tough sell for an expensive private school with an overwhelmingly white student body and faculty in the middle of a rural, white area.
One night, the Minority Student Organization held meetings and discussion groups in our dormitory. Students from the organization came and described the challenges of attending the school and their hopes and suggestions for how things could be improved. It was a cordial meeting and informative. At the end there was time for questions and comments.
After a number of people asked intelligent questions, I volunteered that I was always more nervous talking to African-American students than white students, because, being a social bumbler anyways, I was afraid I would do or say something that was accidentally racist. The student I was speaking to said, “Just talk to us like we’re ordinary people.”
Even at the time, I found that advice unsatisfying, though it took me a while to figure out why. We are, of course, all ordinary people, but that does not mean that we all communicate the same way. Different histories inform our conversation. If, for example, I were with a white male friend, I could affectionately or challengingly call him “Boy” and no one would be the least offended (if he’s old enough, he might even consider it a compliment). But the history of that word between a white person and a black man carries the ugly baggage of disrespect, hatred and oppression. There aren’t circumstances in which it would be appropriate; it would always be offensive.
What is ordinary to one person is not necessarily ordinary to another.
I was reminded of this today when I read the guest post at Rocks in My Dryer from Jenni of One Thing. Jenni is mother to twelve children and writes a delightful blog about their life together. For Rocks in My Dryer she wrote a post about the reactions that mothers of large families get from the people around them.
One of the peculiar diseases of western culture is the insistence that the existence of children must be justified. Parents of large families receive the brunt of this. Jenni describes some of the unfair attitudes people have towards her large family. One of her most poignant statements was her feeling that the difficulties of her pregnancies are denied sympathy from her church folk, because they are her “just desserts” for getting pregnant so many times.
Jenni describes and alludes to several ways that people can be mean-spirited and offensive toward large families. Given the amount of harassment and hostility large families have to deal with, I can understand how even cluelessness can be upsetting on top of everything else. But some of the comments she objects to seemed fairly innocent to me, another case of two people having different assumptions about what it means to speak like “ordinary people.” I have expressed amazement when friends with only two kids have children that look remarkably alike. It would never occur to me that a family with more children would find that offensive.
For relatively shy people like myself, real life conversation can already feel like walking through a field of land mines. When it is fraught with possible unwitting offense, I want to avoid conversation altogether. Jenni’s post on one hand made me feel sympathy and support for moms of large families, but on the other, it made me less likely to engage in the conversations where I could express it.
One of the qualities I admire in Az the Husband is his unconcern with offending people. While sometimes that presents challenges (and makes him dangerous to quote), it has an important benefit: Az talks to everybody. He never worries about saying the wrong thing and alienating everyone in the room. The political correctness that is supposed to teach us all how to talk to one another merely silences me (too many non-intuitive rules to remember). Az disregards it entirely, speaks freely and makes friends easily.
It’s one of the many ironies of life: being unafraid to offend people may actually make you less offensive.
seven
It’s the old you’re-just-shy-but-everyone-thinks-you’re-rude-and-stuck-up quandary. I hate that. I’ve had people tell me that I’m intimidating… and it made me laugh. I’m the one cowering in the corner because I don’t know how to pull by big girl panties up and actually go talk to people, and I’m intimidating?
suburbancorrespondent
I love Jenni (and her blog - check it out), but that point was the one I disagreed with her on. I belong to a homeschooling group with bigger-than-average families (like mine), and it is always fun seeing a crew of redheads showing up resembling each other, or whatever. I never take offense when people marvel at how my 6 look like each other (and not like me or my husband). I laugh and tell them, “Yup, we shook the dice 6 times, and it keeps coming up the same.” Just because people comment on their obvious physical similarity doesn’t mean that those same people think my kids are otherwise alike.
But her annoyance with people saying, “Oh, you’re such a saint/so amazing, etc”? I’m with her all the way on that one. There’s just no way to answer that.
You’ll be hearing it soon, too.
Jeana
I think this is an excellent post, and you’re absolutely right. We used to teach a parenting class that had an entire chapter covering “freedoms”. As in, be careful in allowing too many freedoms to a young child; be sure the freedoms you allow them are appropriate for their age. etc.
Another couple who taught the same class told me once that he had to change the word to “privilege” when talking to the patients at his medical practice. Many of them were black and took offense at his use of the word, “freedom”. Took offense is probably not the right way to say it–they strongly resisted the idea of taking away “freedoms” but were fine with taking away “privileges”. Given the history of our country, I can see how that word would have a completely different connotation for them, but I never would have thought of it had he not told me that story.
I think in Jenny’s case it depended a lot on the context. When you are constantly hearing rude comments about the size of your family you get a little sensitive to it. Someone being pleasant who happens to comment how your children all look alike doesn’t bother me as much as the aghast freak show viewer, “Oh my word, look at all those kids! How many of them are there? And they all look alike!”
Or, say, someone who attends church with you and doesn’t bother to even try to remember your kids names because, “I can’t remember them all and besides, they all look alike.” Given that she said that in the context of people not treating her children as individuals, I think that’s probably what she meant.
I think that if you are showing genuine interest and kindness, people will not be as likely to be offended, even if you slip up. Last weekend Scott’s uncle was here, and twice he referred to my four kids as a “litter”. I don’t have to tell you how much that would normally fry me, but it didn’t with him. I’ve known him for years, I know he loves us and our kids, and I know that he honestly doesn’t care how many kids we have, he was just trying (rather unsuccessfully) to be funny.
Compare that with a guy from church years ago who commented on how my kids were dressed for the Fall Festival. They were dressed as Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus and an angel. This guy said, “In a few years you’ll have enough kids to play ALL the parts.” But the way he said it–I don’t even know if I can describe his body language and facial expression, but I could tell that he was mocking me, and that he thought I was too ignorant to realize I was being mocked. In writing, the litter remark is more offensive. In reality, the other comment was more offensive because of the context and delivery.
I think your post is spot on, in that Jenny was writing from her context and experience, and that changed the meaning.
And I think in general people respond more to your attitude and tone than to what buzz words you might accidentally be using.
The Schwa
People sure are funny. The strangest things set them off. Great post, as usual, Veronica. I can identify with the longing to be bolder. As one who walks around in perpetual fear that I’ve offended someone, I admire Az for his easygoingness and capacity to talk to anyone. Of course it helps that he’s got the best sense of humor of anyone in the room…..
Happy Geek
As a white Canadian who was blessed enough to teach at an all African-American school for two years I almost stopped talking altogether. I had no clue about some of the things that would be offensive (not the same history in Canada) and made some horrific blunders unintentionally.
I once heard a saying that I try to apply to myself on a daily basis. “Don’t be a thief. Don’t take offense where no is given.” It helps me extend grace.
Great post.
Karen
I often a a little pit in my stomach when people see me with my kids. The most common thing people say to me is “Three boys. I don’t know how you do it.” The second most common thing people say is “I could never do what you are doing. I’d be terrible at raising boys.”
I have to admit, I find this offensive - mostly on behalf of my darling, sweet boys.
I’m wondering, do people say similar things to mommies of all girls and they just don’t find me, they find you?
gretchen from lifenut
Our seventh baby is on the way.
I hate that conversation can be such a minefield. I feel it too. And honestly, 95% of the time, the questions/comments are old but benign. I can’t get mad at people for saying something innocuous just because I AM bored with the question/comment. That’s my problem.
I see a little where she is coming from regarding the “all your kids look alike” statement.
We hear this often. It bugs the kids more than me, because they look in the mirror and see themselves as unique individuals who look nothing like their brothers and sisters. And really, if someone were to take the time to look at their faces—eye shape, nose shape, coloring, freckle count, expressions—they look nothing alike. Two boys have very similar eye shapes, actually, but nothing else in common. Their skin tone and hair color are all very similar, but that’s about as far as it goes.
Of course, I see them through the eyes of a mama who has every pore memorized and I don’t expect the stranger at the grocery store to know each child’s eyebrow borders.
So this doesn’t bug me so much. It bugs my kids more, and I am of the opinion it’s okay for kids to be bugged a little because they learn to respond with grace and diplomacy.
The thing I REALLY nodded my head to was when she said people don’t bother to memorize their names, saying they too hard to remember. Oh, puhleese. Can you imagine a mom of two hearing from an acquaintance that it is impossible to remember her kids’ names? It’s a little of the same phenomenon—they are seen as a group, not as individuals.
Veronica Mitchell
HG, once on a long car ride with a white Canadian friend working in the US, I told her all the non-obvious racial epithets for African-Americans so she could avoid using those words. She honestly did not know them, and had already accidentally used the word “oreo” offensively. It was possibly the weirdest tutoring experience of my life.
Karen, the comment I hear most often is “You sure have your hands full.” All strangers say this to me. It’s boring, but I credit it with no more significance than the comment I always heard when I walked our family beagle: “Are you walking her or is she walking you?” All strangers said that, too. They are just trying to make conversation.
Gretchen, I am horrible at remembering names. I am that annoying person at church who has to repeatedly ask what an only child’s name is. Or maybe I remember the kid’s name but forget the parents’. The only benefit to it is that I am very forgiving when people forget my name or my kids’ names.
Misslisslee
I have thought for a long time that many people are looking to take offense at things, what my mom used to call ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’. Unfortunately, what we think we are saying may not be what the other person is hearing, because our ‘filter’ is different from theirs. I try very hard to take the most innocuous meaning from someone’s comment and go on. Because really, if she intends to offend me and I don’t let her, I’ve ‘won’, by not letting someone else control my emotions. And if he doesn’t intend to offend me and I let him, I’ve ‘lost’, by letting someone else’s imagined intentions control my emotions. This doesn’t always work, but it certainly helps me stay on a more even keel.
Melanie
Interesting insight.
My husband and I are the opposite. I talk to everyone and am afraid of offending. He talks to no one and is not afraid of offending. Funny thing is that after we have been with people, he’ll ask if he committed any social infractions.
Annewa
I feel I ‘m pretty similar to you. I find it hard to ask people questions (and thus appear friendly!) because I’m worried about offending! I have a friend with a large family (only 5 but the biggest I know in our little area) and I have witnessed people say rude things! Luckily she doesn’t get offended too easily, but sometimes I do for her!
Adventures In Babywearing
I do think your last statement is very true!
Steph
Adventures In Babywearing
P.S. I just went and read that post by Jenni and wow. I loved it.
Steph
Sue
This is excellent. I come from a large family (nine kids), but my mom is one of those impossible to offend types. She always assumes people mean the best. I wish more people would give others the benefit of the doubt. Why look for offense when clearly none is intended?
Still, I know what you mean about the minefield communication can represent. I’m always so surprised when someone is offended by something I’ve said, because it seems so unexpected. I tend to be a blurter, too, and end up putting my foot in my mouth quite a lot. I’m harmless though - and luckily, very good at offering effusive and sincere apologies.
Riley
I know I’ve said offensive things (on accident, of course) but I’ve also been the recipient of inadvertently offensive remarks. I think Az has the right idea.
Jill
I think it is highly possible we went to the same college. Or maybe all midwestern liberal arts colleges are the same
Marmee
Veronica,
You are absolutely correct about large families. In our church, we have a family with 12 children. I bet they do get treated differently than most families. I know they don’t get a lot of invitations to dinner. But, I would venture to say that this family is one of the most gracious and humble families in my life. And not getting an invitation to dinner is not a big deal to them. They counted the cost before setting that goal of having a large family. I have learned a lot from them.
You mention that you are shy and Az is friendly and talks easily. That is EXACTLY how it is for me and my husband. He is a minister and I’m the minister’s wife. Sometimes people assume that if the minister is gregarious, the MW is that way, too. I don’t like to offfend and say the wrong thing so as to bring grief to my husband’s ministry. I tend to open my mouth and insert my foot on a regular basis. It’s the one thing I would change about myself in a heartbeat….I’d be more naturally outgoing and a bit more generous with my words!! Being shy and ill-at-ease in the company of others has plagued me my entire life. You’d think I’d improve with age. NOT!!!
Beck
We get crap about how many kids WE have. We have three children, each spaced three years apart.
“You’re done now, RIGHT?” concerned relative asks. “That’s more than enough kids for anyone.”
THE HELL?
Happy Geek
Veronica I could have used your tutoring before I referred to my entire class as monkeys in front of my African American principal. They were just being noisy as they raised their hands and I told them they sounded like monkeys.
She and I had a “little talk.” I don’t think I’ve ever apologized so much in my life.
Veronica Mitchell
HG, that is MORTIFYING. I am cringing vicariously for you. I hope the students were able to chalk it up to inexplicable teacher instead of feeling hurt by it.
edj
Some of your other comments have already said it so well–it’s best to assume the happiest meaning to potentially rude comments. Also, I agree that more is communicated through tone and body language than through actual words. Studies have shown we take less than 1/2 the meaning from words as opposed to all the other
That said, although I only have 3 kids, I had them awfully close together and I’ve gotten my fair share of rude comments. My favorites were the ones that assumed I hadn’t finished high school. And of course, I’m sure I’ve made my fair share of unintentionally rude comments too!
Elle
I really liked this post. Both for how it revealed my own foibles and unintentional offenses as much as how it exposed the times I’ve taken offense that was never intended.
As an adoptive mom and as a mom whose first child died, I know I present more than one minefield of conversation for some. The times when I’ve taken every comment, innocuous or not, with either a grain of salt or teaspoon of sugar, this has kept the words from sticking in my craw. The times when I haven’t are not times I’m fond of remembering.
Thankfully, the Lord matures each one of us when truly seeking to speak words seasoned with grace.
PJ
This is a new one to me. I wouldn’t dream that a large family would have “areas of sensitivity” — Although I do remember babysitting for a week for a friend when I was 8 months pregnant. They were gone for a week and had 5 children ranging from 8 months to 9 years old. I took them to the grocery store and other places and found the shaking heads amusing. I was 23 and it looked like I was about to pop out the 6th kid. I also drove a Volkswagen bug…those days you didn’t have to worry about seat belts. Mouths would fall open as we exited the car. I could see them counting! I suppose if it were really my family, I’d find it annoying. But since it was VERY temporary, I just joined the fun and smiled cheerily at everyone as though I was the happiest mom of a multitude in the world. (Oops this post is probably offensive to moms of big families….sorry….I think.)
Pieces
You have described me perfectly. I am afraid to open my mouth for fear of offending anyone. And then I’m afraid that not talking is equally offensive. And then I feel like I can’t win. I wish I was more like Az.
Kelly @ Love Well
I’m tickled to have something in common with Az the Great.
Of course, the downside of disregarding the rules is that I often don’t realize when I’ve stepped too close to the boundary. Thankfully, most people seem to weigh intentions before they tar and feather me.
Antique Mommy
Excellent and well stated post as always.
I am always saying something unintentionlly stupid and/or offensive, usually trying to be light and funny, so I have an extra measure of grace for bumblers like myself. Although sometimes I have to wait for the sting to abate for the grace to kick in.
On the other hand, it seems to me that sometimes, no matter how precise and eloquent and soft the words, the “hearer” just can’t receive the message because of what’s going on with them. Had that experience just this week with a VBS teacher. It makes me feel helpless and wrangled when that happens.
Courageous Grace
Karen, your comment made me think. Although I only have one child so far (6 month old boy), I would probably be someone who would say or think “I don’t know how you manage 3 boys.” This is because I come from a family of women. Most of the women in my family are either divorced or widowed, and for some strange reason very few boys are born into the family.
I have absolutely no idea how to raise a boy, and find it very hard to imagine what life would be like with more than one (although I have a feeling I’m going to find out a few years down the road. Hubby’s family has mostly boys born into it).
So I agree that a lot of comments that can be taken offensively should be considered in the context. In my case, I would never intend offense but would truly wonder how one manages more than one boy, especially close in age. I do pray that should I be blessed with more than one boy that I can handle them half as well as mothers like you.
Mrs Lemon
I can say from experience that I have said some of these “no no” phrases to mothers of large families, completely not thinking with both sides of my brain. But Sunday we had a visiting family with 7 children, and I purposefully asked her childrens ages and names and avoided the “no no” phrases. It apparently takes the internet village to raise my awareness of the bigness of my mouth.