Bursts of “Fuck You” Railing Through My Life

The first time I heard the word ‘ Fuck ‘ was in the school yard at Prince Charles Elementary School. I was in grade 6. It was middle school, new to me that year. Across town in a different neighbourhood we were bussed. I was hanging around the fence at the far end of the yard at recess. ( How I notice now school children congregating or standing alone at the edge of the school yard waiting for the time to pass). Two boys rough playing were yelling out and noticing me, liberally using the ‘F’ word to make sure I heard.

I remember being frightened by the word. It was harsh and stabbing, a strange word used in anger or aggression. Not knowing its meaning but knowing its use, I found myself driven away across the yard close to the doors of protection.

It was always a word that jarred me. Even in this ripe old age of sixty-six, I find myself startled with the sound and reference. It is effective, attention seeking, not always directed at anyone or thing in particular. Others must have their own emotional take on it. There was a man who owned a bicycle shop near our restaurant. He would come in for lunch several times a week with a colleague. Every second word was ‘fuck,’ “fuck this,” “what the fuck,” “who the fuck,” or just plain old “fuck.” Eventually I had to ask him not to use his language in our establishment. He apologised and stopped.

We know it has become an ordinary word in most circles and used regularly by many. It defines an idea, statement, emotion, event. It also is a word of non-beauty. It has a sound of hurt, anger, fear and excitement.

Throughout the course of my day with all the problems, death-defying moments or small hardships, I never have the desire to call out “Fuck you.” I guess I internalize my expressions but having lived with someone who holds no breath when words are needed, the ” Fuck yous ” come fast and frequent.

There has never been a time I do not feel that jab– that electric shock and then clarity, pupils focused, heart rate up. I am now gradually going deaf in my senior years, but that harsh word still rings loud and clear above all melded sounds of other sweeter words.