Very young in life, I was introduced to the power of words. Precious, Priceless, Powerful, they appealed to me like nothing ever would. Words that would open to me a universe beyond my little world in the written word; words that could move me, anger me, wound me, soothe me, shatter me, nurture me and destroy me. I’m eternally fascinated with words molded into pieces of prose, lyric, story and poetry.
I am constantly reminded of generations of martyrs who sacrificed their lives so that I can exercise my right to free speech under the First Amendment to the Constitution which states -
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
When I was a little girl someone told me - “Words are the most priceless things we own, and we must use them well.” Rather than tell me that words are so priceless that I must hide them, or save them for special occasions, or put them in a useless locker so I can glance at them every once in a while, I was told to use them well. This is me exercising my right guaranteed by the first amendment – unfiltered for political correctness, unadulterated by useless euphemisms and unabashed by my conservatism.
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