Owen 1

Spencer Owen
Professor Morean
100-15
16 September 2014
The Way I Talk
I was not even old enough to cross the street by myself, and my grandparents and parents
were in complete shock at what just flew out of my mouth. I was at the age where I could barely
put together complete sentences, when my parents started trying to teach my twin brother and me
how to count. We were taught how to count at such a young age because it was important to my
mother, a middle school math teacher. Because she taught, she was always good at coming up
with fun and easy ways of teaching us valuable things. To educate us on how to count, she used
the stairs in our house a learning tool.
We were told that for every step we took we would have to say a number. There were
only ten steps leading to our upstairs so we would start at the bottom, and as we climbed the
steps, we would count from one to ten. Then start at the top and count backwards as we went
down. It was difficult at first, but our parents helped us get started each time, and then would
leave it up to us to finish each time we got to either the top or bottom of the stairs. We practiced
almost every day and eventually began to enjoy learning how to count. It did not take us long
before we were counting to ten like it was nothing. My parents beamed with pride.
When we got it down perfectly, my mom called our grandparents to come over so that we
could show them what we learned. The day came when our grandparents were finally able to

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come over and see us in action. We were overly excited and nervous. We were ready to show our
family what we learned.
We got up that morning and started to practice before everyone came over. Our
grandparents arrived and were eager to see what we learned. We decided that my brother,
Connor, would go first. When he was ready, he started to fly up the stairs, screaming the
numbers out as he went like he had been counting his whole life. He did it with such ease which
put a tremendous amount of pressure on me. Then it was my turn, and as I was getting
encouragement from my whole family, I took my first step up the stairs and blared out, SHIT
and continued yelling SHIT down each step until I hit the floor.
Right as I said SHIT for the first time, my grandparents and parents all looked at each
other, then burst into hysterical laughter. When they regained their composure their jaws dropped
to the floor as they turned their heads towards my dad, giving him a stern look. My family then
went into an argument about how I could be speaking with such vulgar vocabulary. My dad tried
to plead his case as most of the blame was placed on him. To this day, I still do not know why I
decided to scream such language, instead of saying one as I hit the first step. We came to the
conclusion that I must have heard my dad say it earlier that morning and when I got nervous in
front of everyone, I screamed the first word I thought of, not knowing what it was or what it
meant.
It is normal in my dads side of the family to swear often, when it is appropriate. We try
not swear like drunken sailors, but as a family that was grown up around hockey, swearing is a
common thing in our household. It is a common stereotype that hockey players like to swear, but
in this case I would say it is true.

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While growing up around an older brother, father, and grandfather who swore quite often,
I could not avoid the trend in my family. It is almost like swearing is a gene us Owen boys
inherit from their fathers. I do not have a problem with holding my tongue when the time is right,
such as all day at school, on a date with a girl, or meeting someone for the first time. But when I
start to feel comfortable around someone my rugged vocabulary comes out. We are taught to
never swear in public and around women, but when we are with the guys, the cuss words just
flow out naturally. I feel in this day and age it is normal for males to swear, but my family is
known for swearing more than the average guy.
Every group of friends has a different type of person that brings their own uniqueness to
the group. For me, my profound vocabulary adds to my personality and uniqueness. I know
swearing shows unintelligence and is nothing to brag about, but I cannot hide from the fact that
this attribute helps make me who I am.
Even though I curse often, I am well behaved and mannered. If I did not swear as often, I
truly do not know what kind of person I would be and how I would behave differently. Even
though that thought intrigues me, I would never change this feature of mine. Who knows who I
would have connected with and who would be my friends if I do not speak the way I do? I
believe that even though swearing may not be seen as a valuable trait to have I try to use it at the
right times and have my own twist of communication that makes the way I speak rare. This
particular literacy of mine all started that day I was supposed to count to ten but instead I chose
to say Shit. I learned through this experience, everyone is unique in their own way.

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