Words matter because people matter

The move to change this terminology was due to the fact the word retarded, what is now often called the “r-word”, was often used as a slur, either as a way to derisively describe people with intellectual disabilities or as an insult toward any person, object or situation that is frustrating, nonsensical or that one wishes did not exist. While I had fears that my son would be subject to the hurtful use of this word, I don’t remember a time in his life that has happened.

There were, however, moments early on in my son’s life that a friend or colleague might use the r-word as a slur to describe a person or situation they found frustrating. Some of these instances were with people I knew and loved, and who knew and loved my son.

“I’m sorry!” they would almost always say. It was clear that there was a habit of using this word that the relationship they had with my son made uncomfortable for them. In short, there was a human connection that made that word costly. The opportunity to struggle with this word in the flesh gave me a chance both to accept their apology and often to explain why a word that was linked with my son’s intellectual abilities — but that expressed a desire for a thing to be discarded, ignored or reviled — was harmful. I know many others who have someone they love with an intellectual disability who have had these hard but fruitful conversations. A global campaign called Spread the Word was launched in concert with the Special Olympics and Best Buddies in 2009 to try to stop the use of this slur. I have been grateful that in recent years the word had all but disappeared.

But just as measles and worldwide tariffs are back in the news, the r-word has also resurrected. In January, Elon Musk, the man leading President Donald Trump’s Department of Government Efficiency efforts and who has probably appeared in more news conferences and social media posts with Trump than anyone else in the administration, posted on his social media platform, X, that an astronaut who criticized him was, “fully retarded.”

His use of this word has had an impact. One study by Montclair State University found that the use of the r-word on social media accounts increased 207.5% in the days after Musk’s January post. Of course, this was not the first time in recent years that Musk has used this word to insult someone. Just this last week, Musk got into a public battle with Peter Navarro, the economist advising Trump on tariff policies, where he used a variant of the r-word to express that Navarro was unfit for the job.

So does this really matter? The truth is that the hopes I have for my son are not realized solely by the words that people use. It can be easy to discount it all as a distraction.

Let’s focus on the important stuff. What I really want is for my son to enjoy the fullness of his community and life, which for him means real and meaningful engagement in his school and one day in his work. It means being an active and reciprocal part of our church and neighborhood. It means having friends and family that support him and for whom he can provide support. Do words really matter? But this last week, one of the nation’s most popular podcast hosts, Joe Rogan, who himself regularly uses the r-word, declared that the resurrection of the use of this word was, “one of the great culture victories.” I realized: words seem to matter for the people who are using them, especially this word.

When people who have known my son have felt uncomfortable using the r-word in front of us, it is because they are face to face with a person for whom they can appreciate his value.

“This is the most powerful word I can use to describe my disdain for this person or situation” becomes, “this word is associated with this boy.” My son becomes not an abstraction but a person. Using the r-word to insult someone doesn’t just impact the person or situation you are talking about, it communicates a value proposition about people for whom that word is linked.

From day one with Teddy, we understood the world needed him, that he had value. As a person of faith, this was driven by the belief that every single person, from my son with a disability to an astronaut, has value. Using a word that communicates something other than this impacts not just my son and not just the person who it is aimed at, but it also impacts the person using this word. It changes the way we see people.

We said in that initial letter announcing Teddy’s arrival, “we need you all.” Indeed we do. We need to continue conversations, ideally in the flesh, with people who use this word, to explain the hurt that comes from this language. Just as we have leaders in entertainment, business and politics who are using the r-word very publicly, we need leaders to set a public standard for describing the value of people. I can imagine a movement like that. That would be a truly great cultural victory.

Credit: Handout

Credit: Handout

Hannah Heck, a lawyer, founded a public policy, advocacy and consulting practice. She lives in Atlanta and spends most of her time in board service, supporting her four children and writing about life raising a son with Down syndrome.