The Power of Words

Continuing my stroll down memory lane I came across another original essay from my Junior year. I think that this had to be the course the gave me the confidence to put so much emotion into my writings. This essay describes the impact of words and how though they can be aimed to hurt us it's truly up to us to decide how powerful (and in many cases futile) they are. Enjoy the essay.


Growing up as a young black- homosexual male in the south, I have been faced with many different taboos and prejudices. From an early age I had to develop a different mentality from my peers and those around me, and build a philosophy that words are just words. As a writer I believe that words can do many things; words can inspire the defeated, relate beings that are worlds apart and even take a reader on a heart racing journey. But of all the things words can do, I believe that words can not hurt.
For the larger portion of my childhood things such as others opinions was completely oblivious, but this began to change once I began middle school.
Suddenly faced with an entirely new environment and people I had never been in contact with before, I began to be called an assortment of derogatory names. Names such as “black” and “big eared” began to be whispered around me or pointed out for another’s amusement and truth be told, I never once felt pain, just indifferent from my peers.
At that point in a child’s life there are two paths that can be taken. I chose the path that would not let me feel stung by useless words and that in turn shaped me into the creative person that I am today. So what if I was darker or my ears were larger than the next person? I was still smarter than my critics and not one of them could call me ugly. It was then that I knew that words could not hurt.
Through the rest of Middle School and High School I remained at the top of my class and encountered many unique and different friends. Through all those years I faced discrimination, stereotypes, heinous rumors and racial profiling and none of them broke me because I knew who and what I was.
The true test of my belief however did not come until my freshman year in college. One night while I was on my way out to meet a friend, for the first time in my life I was “gay bashed.” The taunts came from a group of my peers sitting outside the dorm, some of whom I knew and others that I didn’t. Words such as “homo,” “fag,” and “nasty,” were thrown out at me angrily and suddenly I felt my heart racing and blood pumping, but not because my feelings were hurt but because I was angry. Angry at the idea that fellow African-American’s, after years of facing prejudice and hate, would only return the carnage and malice on another human being.
Once again I found myself at a crossroads and once again I made the right decision. I took a deep breath and continued walking, letting their words roll off my back. I held my head high and didn’t give them or their comments a second thought.
Now that I think about it, it is funny in the sense that the majority of my jeerers that night continued to talk to me in the following days and still do as if the night never occurred. This fact itself just reinforces my idea that words are just words.
I believe that insults, negative words and derogatory statements only help to make individuals stronger in mind and in spirit. For every negative word thrown at me I’ve only worked harder in life because of the inspiration they instill in me. I believe and live as an example that proves words can inspire but never hurt.