It’s another brisk, gray morning at the North Wales train station as I join the ranks of fellow commuters headed into the city. We await the train in silence, in observance of some unspoken law, unwilling to disrupt these precious moments of early morning calm.

I’m always struck by the unnaturalness of the scene. In virtually any other situation, people constantly chatter. Words are perpetually in motion in the classroom, in the workplace, on the street, at mealtimes, through cell phones, on the television, from the radio, etc.

And, as a result, talk is cheap. In economic terms, the explanation is simple: By nature of its availability and accessibility, talk has become seriously devalued. We take our speech far too lightly. We fail to see the tremendous impact of our words, whose value, in part, lies in their very ubiquitousness.

In this fast-paced world, where everyone is competing for the mic, we rarely take time to think before we speak, often saying the first thing that comes to mind. Now, this wouldn’t be a problem if all of our thoughts were always right and true. But, as New York Times columnist Bob Herbert points out, in response to the Don Imus fiasco, “The language, of course, is just a symptom,” an external manifestation of the disease within. As long as we remain imperfect people in an imperfect society, where, in the words of Herbert, “loathsome, soul-destroying disease[s]” such as racism and sexism still prevail, we need to examine our words and wield them with caution.

Words not only reflect reality but also have considerable power to shape reality. And misguided words in particular have a way of staying with us–as evidenced by the actions of one Penn student who believed himself to be the victim of a 34th Street shoutout. Sure, Street’s shoutouts are supposed to be “all in good fun,” but you have to admit, some of them are over the top. And when, to borrow Herbert’s words, “the coarsest, most socially destructive images and language are an integral part of the everyday discourse,” we’ve got to expect some negative consequences.

When we were kids, saying the wrong thing got us sent to bed without dessert — or a spanking, as the case may be. In high school, “offensive” language landed us in detention. In college, for the first time, we have ample opportunity to exercise our right to free speech. Let’s not abuse it.

It’s now 7:38, and the R5 Express arrives in a whirl of dead leaves and debris. In the bustle toward the doors, the verbal silence is broken by a series of “Excuse mes” and “Thank yous”. As I make my way to an open seat, I think of my day’s script that is yet to be written.

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