Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. How did such an obviously false rhyme get passed down to me on the playground?* Words are much more hurtful than getting punched. I don’t remember a single fight that still matters to me, but several slurs from elementary school still sting. When kids in Rochester called me “Reb” in fourth grade, because of my West Virginia accent, it hurt. A teacher said my accent would make... Read more