“Retard! Retard!” It’s the shrill call of a vile black bird, a call I hear coming from the treetops and from behind dark clouds these days. I hear it, though others don’t, because I have an ear for it. Call it a gift. I received this gift four years ago, in a hospital delivery room, at the exact moment a nurse turned to me and told me that in all likelihood my newborn son had Down syndrome. He did. His name is Ozzie.
It’s a strange thing, this gift of mine. Because a word that used to zip right on past my ear without causing a ripple now leaves me feeling like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. And it happens just about every day.
The English language is littered with the husks of words like "retard." We've invented awful slurs for every group of people imaginable. But for some reason, those other words are whispered behind backs, relegated to the shadows. "Retard" is not. This particular slur, and its many variations, fills the space on park benches between soccer moms. It's heard in movies and on TV shows and in the songs kids sing in front of grandma. It pops up in board meetings and in breakrooms and in coffee shop queues.
And online - especially online. The comments section of any web post, no matter what website or how benign the topic, always seems to tease a “retarded” comment out of a reader or two. And for the life of me I cannot understand why this is so. Because it hurts, and people know it hurts, because parents like me have told them so. Again and again.
I'm left to wonder why this word is so precious that we just can't seem to get by without it. I'm left to wonder why it still slips so easily from the mouths of celebrities and public figures. In the most recent example, conservative firebrand Ann Coulter, tip of the Republican spear, posted a tweet insinuating that President Obama is pandering to the "retarded vote."
Here’s Ann’s tweet:
“Been busy, but is Obama STILL talking about that video? I had no idea how crucial the retarded vote is in this election.”
