"Ode" to the Eff Word

The single greatest change I encountered when leaving private and public school teaching for correctional facility instruction was the dramatically increased use of the F word all around me. Now, professionally speaking, my fellow employees and I are expected to avoid using such language, but human nature being what it is and the overall prison culture being what it is, the F, or as I call it, "Eff," word is difficult to avoid hearing or saying.

In American society, in general, the intercourse of professional and casual conversation has become significantly more lenient in the last quarter decade. Still, one mark of professionalism in the workplace is a self-controlled tongue. It's refreshing to hear the control and wearying to experience its opposite. In my case, the experience of vulgar language is exasperated by my classroom's proximity to one of the facility's housing units. Their commons room shares a wall with mine, and I'm "blessed" to hear frequent outbursts of colorful language that would put the proverbial foul-mouthed sailor to shame.

When I began teaching in this facility, it housed juveniles. Since 2017, the juveniles have been in another facility in the state, and this one is all men. The vibrance of vulgarity is no different from one population to the next. Despite my best efforts to help my students improve their self-control for more gracious communication in the workplace and society, the struggle reaches significant levels of aggravation.

My frequent frustrations led me to create a brief missive that I share with new groups of students periodically. I read it to them, and they begin to reflect on their language habits, even as they roar their heads off in laughing response to hear me use the word always on their lips but rarely on mine (as far as they know). I present it here in SFW form. You may find it relatable. It concludes with a mild admonishment for self-improvement.

Effing Ode to the Eff Word

Every effing day I effing go to my effing excellent effing job,

Where I have to effing listen to effing adults who don't effing seem to effing know how to effing make an effing sentence without effing using the effing f word every effing other effing moment.

My effing delightful effing students effing say the effing f word so effing often that they effing don’t effing realize that they’re effing even effing using it; it effing just effing slips out.

When I reply, “No, thank you,” they effing stare at me effing blankly.

“What the eff?” they effing ask.

“You said I should ‘eff’ this,” I reply. “No, thank you. I’d rather not.”

Or they say, “I can’t effing wait to have an effing cigarette!”

Then I ask, “What is the difference between an effing cigarette and a regular one?” (I’ve been given many answers, including ones that include effing.)

For one or two effing moments, they effing realize that their effing adjective, effing verb, and effing exclamatory effing vocabulary has been effing reduced to effing variations of the same effing f word. Still, they effing resume their effery, and the effing teaching moment is effing lost.

It effing drives me effing crazy!

Learn a better way to express yourself.

Self-control in language is a first step to a healthier you.