How Often Do You Say The Word ‘retard’?

It’s an honest question, and I think I deserve an honest answer after you read this.
I’m disgusted. With myself, with the people I’m surrounded with, with the ignorance so many people are filled with. There are subjects that are so very touchy to me, so touchy in fact, I’m shaky writing this. And normally, it just takes using a single word- one so overused today, one people never take the time to even think about the impact it could have on even one person in the room- to boil my blood so high, it brings honest tears into my eyes. I’m even almost hesitant to say this word, even on here, for the fear of people really have grown that ignorant, that this entry will just pass right through them, no impact at all, and perhaps they’ll even think “What does this girl know? I mean, its not like anyone meant it that way. It’s just for laughs.”, which if thats true, please stop following me. Don’t even look at my entries anymore. I’m not writing this for your benefit, its for mine. I feel if maybe I get this off my chest, maybe if I can word this correctly, slowly and surely the message will spread. Well, I realize I have to do more than that. And I have plans, oh I do. Ok, here goes. Retard. You’re a Retard. Oh, she’s freaking retarded. Give me a retarded look. What a freaking retard. What a mental headcase. She belongs in Special Ed. He rides the short bus! And so much more. Sure, it might seem funny to you, but to me, it’s personal. My sister? Yeah, she’s all those things. I can’t even bear to say that word when I tell people about her, I say “Special Needs” because of what society had done to that single word, how much of the meaning and truth had been warped. Just this week alone, I’ve had probably 6 or 7 close friends say something similar to those phrases to me, in reference to someone or something they thought was dumb. And the truth? It hurts. It cuts deep. It’s like getting the wind knocked out of my chest, for a single word, a word that probably wasn’t even meant to be harmful, just a joke, but it’s a word that means so much more to me. Living with a mentally handicapped sister is the normal for me, I’ve never known anything different. And I certainly wouldn’t change that fact. These kids, they are God’s angels sent right from Heaven; they know no sin. The people and even the teachers in the elementary, middle, and high schools that tease and pick on them by verbal and physical abuse would be helped first by these children before anyone else if they fell or hurt themselves before them. Heck, the people who do those kinds of things sicken me. Beyond sicken me. They strike a cord in me, a cord that makes me what to yell and punch and scream until my lungs give out. And you may think that these occurences are rare; when they’re really not at all. Just this year, some kid at school- the teacher doesnt even know who, because the teacher was just hired for an easy job, she doesnt have their best interest in mind, but thats another story- managed to seriously injure my sisters arm. The doctor couldn’t find any fractures- but he is also an idiot, also another story- but my sister has a very high tolerance for pain, and she was bawling. Each tear Broke. My. Heart. And I wanted to break whoever did that. Another time, not my sisters teacher, but a teacher at her school took the special education children in her class and would tie them up to chair, and lock them in a dark closet, and just let them scream. Broke. My. Heart. Some girls on the playground decided it would be just hilarious to push my sister down and hold a boy on top of her; just because she likes to HUG people. Broke. My. Freaking. Heart. Seeing a reoccuring pattern? Because I am. And it’s not just happening to my sister. It’s everywhere, like an epidemic. We have built up a strong belief system within ourselves that ‘different’ is beneath us, that things and people that have something unfamilar about them are also beneath us. Because we believe that people with disabilities are apparently missing something we have, we can treat them like they just don’t even matter. The truth is, we’re missing something they have. People with disabilities are filled with such a passionate, childlike love and wonder in their hearts. This passion is something we lack. This childlike nature, is unfortunately, something we lack. I just can’t even put it into words. Volunteer with a local Special Olympics organization if you want to get a taste of what I’m even talking about, because what’s within their hearts is so genuine, so real, it can’t even be put into words.Did you ever hear about the guy who was arrested a few years back for adopting all those down syndrome and other children with disabilities and locking them in a bathroom for the rest of their time there at night and various other times, in cages no less, stacked one on top of another? There is NO words to describe that type of person. See what I’m talking about here? See how hurtful one little word can