“Haha, yeah, her shirt did look really retarded.”
“What are you thinking, retard?”
“That homework was so retarded. What was the point?”
Retarded. That word swirls around me everywhere. It is like a knife twisting in my heart every time I hear it. And no matter how many times I hear myself say “don’t say that” or “please don’t use that word”, two minutes later I hear it again. It is an endless cycle of unknowing cruelty.

I walk up the steps to my house. My sister, Lizzy, is there waiting for me. I open my arms for her to give me a hug. She runs to embrace me, saying “Welcome home!”

“How was school?” I ask.
“Good. I got more sight words!”
“Really? Do you want to show me?”
Lizzy drags me into the kitchen and shoves me onto a chair. She pulls a stack of flash cards out of her backpack and sets them on the table.
“P-l-ea-s-e. Pl-ee-s. Please!” she sounds out each word slowly.
“High five!” She jumps up to reach my hand.
“Great job! You know so many words!”
My sister bows grandly, as if she just received a standing ovation at Carnegie Hall. I laugh.

♦

Today at school we are having an awards ceremony for orchestra students who made it into Allstate Orchestra. It is a big deal, especially since fifteen people from our school managed to get in. All the parents and siblings are coming.
“Good afternoon, Donwell Middle. Please make your way into the theater.”
I walk into the theater and see my mom and Lizzy already sitting down. My sister waves to me and turns to me mom.
“Look, it’s Madison.” she says extremely loudly. I still smile, but it is a bit forced. We file our way into our seats and our principal, Ms. Young, begins calling out names.
“Madison Miller,” I break into a huge grin. I made it!
“Maddie, Maddie!” Lizzy cheers. I hear titters from the audience. I frown in their direction. My mom gets the silent message, shushes Lizzy.
Later, as I am walking out of the theater, Lizzy runs up to me.
“You did it!” she yells. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you.”
“Honey, congratulations. I was just talking to Julia’s mom. It looks like we are going to get some ice cream to celebrate. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Oh, umm, yeah.” I respond. Frankly, it doesn’t sound nice at all. Julia is in my grade. She also plays the violin. And swims. And is on Science Olympiad. Everything that I do, she does, too. And not only that, she also beats me at it. I get a 99 on a test, she gets a 100. She is one chair ahead of me in school orchestra, and now Allstate. Every meet we are in she beats me by mere seconds. Every question I get wrong in Science Olympiad, she knows the answer to. Then she gloats. She gloats for days and days and days until I feel like my head is going to explode and I have no talent whatsoever. So no, it does not sound nice to go for ice cream with Julia.

We arrive at the ice cream store, and manage to grab a table. Lizzy, Julia, and I sit down while our moms go get ice cream.

“Congratulation, Julia. You must be really happy.” I say.
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” she says halfheartedly, typing away on her phone. She obviously doesn’t want to be here. Nor do I, but at least I’m not ignoring the people I’m with.
“So… what kind of ice cream did you get?” I try again.
“Just shut up, Madison. I have no desire to be here with you and your retarded sister.”
“What did you just say?” I say in a warning tone as I stand up.
“What does that mean?” Lizzy innocently asks.
“Just proving my point,” Julia says.
“How dare you? My mother invited you here to be kind and extend her friendship, and you respond by acting extremely rude and offensive. What kind of person are you?” I know I sort of flew of the handle, but I don’t care. Julia deserves it.

“Madison, your sister is retarded. Do you not know that? What is wrong with her, anyway?”
“For your information, there is nothing wrong with my sister. She happens to have a condition known as Down Syndrome. Yes, I am aware of the fact that she has some delays, but that doesn’t mean you say it in a rude way to her face. Anyway, despite the struggles my sister faces, she still is a much nicer person than you.”
“Oh, is retarded some sort of bad word now?”
“When used to describe a person who is retarded in normal conversation that is not meant to hurt or be cruel, then no. But when used as a way to insult people, or used offhandedly to describe any random thing that you think is silly or not status quo, then yes, I think it is.”
“If you say so, Madison,” Julia says, as if speaking to a two year old. “But you do know your sister is never going to be able to live like us. She won’t be able to go to college, or have a job like us...”
My mom brings over our ice cream and we sit in icy silence. She tries to make conversation, but between Julia on her phone and me in an extremely bad mood, she doesn’t get very far.
At last we leave and in the car I can’t help but break down crying.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” my mom asks worriedly.

“It’s just, what Julia said, it’s right. Lizzy will never be able to live the life I, or anybody else, can because of her disability. She won’t have the same job opportunities, and it won’t be as easy for her to do anything.” I say between sobs.

“Honey, all that is true. But you know, is that what really matters? A ‘successful’ job, a ‘normal’ life? All that matters is that Lizzy is happy. She’ll live a cheerful, good life, and we will love her the whole time, and she loves you to the end of the earth.  I know how hard it is to watch her grow up and know that she won’t get to go to college or be an engineer if she wants, but I’m still proud of her. I’m proud of her for her personality, her sweetness, her perseverance, everything about her, just like I’m proud of you. And we need to help her, and we will. So don’t cry, Maddie, don’t cry. “

♦

I am no longer in eighth grade anymore. I’ve graduated from college and watched Lizzy grow up. She now works as an assistant preschool teacher. All the kids love her and I couldn’t be more proud of her. Then, of course, there’s Julia. Julia, Julia, Julia. We continued to be competitors during high school, and I was the salutatorian while she was the valedictorian, a fact she continued to rub in my face all throughout college. Now I am trying really hard not to rub in her face that I am a highly acclaimed violinist with a master’s degree in both physics and music. Who’s laughing now? Anyway, Lizzy has had a very cheerful, good life, just as my mom predicted many years ago, and we love her just as much as we did then, perhaps more if it is possible. But remember, even if you feel like it’s not cool, or if people think it’s silly, don’t say retarded, and tell other people, too. Maybe, just maybe, you can make a small dent in a big problem, and inspire others to do so, too. Eventually those small dents will become a large dent and the “R-word” could be eliminated.