The C-Word
illustration by Haijingchao Su
You jokingly say it to your best friend. The c-word. A word so terrible, so raw, so brute with the hard ‘C.’ Not a “see you soon” but a “come quick!” Urgent and piercing on the tongue followed by a pillow-soft ‘uh’ on the throat. A cutting finish with the curl of the n-t against your gums. The click of offense. Anyone in a close earshot makes the necessary pivot to meet eyes with you, the vulgar individual who dared to utter the word.
Cunt. We all know not to say it but aren’t sure quite why.
The first time I heard the word out loud was during my first, and only, Vagina Monologues read. As a freshman, I stood next to my only two friends who forced me to audition the month prior. Scared, I hugged the sheet of paper with my short fact about states where it is illegal to buy a vibrator: Alabama, Texas, Mississippi, Georgia, Louisiana, Virginia, and Indiana, in case you were wondering. I walked up to the mic in front of a crowded Hendrick’s Chapel, spoke, and then returned to my spot in the back of the semicircle.
Then, a small girl of maybe 5’3” strutted up to the mic and began the monologue written by Eve Ensler, the creator of The Vagina Monologues. She roared:
“CUNT. I'VE RECLAIMED IT. CUNT. I REALLY LIKE IT. CUNT, JUST LISTEN TO IT, LISTEN TO IT... ALWAYS DEPTH, ALWAYS ROUND IN UPPERCASE, CUN, CUN, CUNNING...! A JAGGED WICKED ELECTRICAL PULSE.”
I shifted in my shoes, uncomfortable. I remember my eyes enlarged as I watched that small-figured girl stand in front of a crowded chapel and exclaim such obscenity.
After that, the word never felt the same in my vocabulary.
Cunt. A reclamation. A word to take back. A challenge I’ve undertaken since that freshman February.
In Great Britain it’s cheeky pub slang. Scientifically it means vagina. In ancient Egypt, it was used as a term of respect. But in the United States, the word is so dirty, so foul, that there are laws prohibiting the utterance of the word on broadcast television.
“The word — I’m not going to say the word,” said Roy Gutterman, director of the Tully Center for Free Speech at the Newhouse School, “Is part of George Carlin’s famous seven words you can’t say on broadcasting.”
The issue is not the word cunt. The issue lies in the systemic inequalities set forth by language — by male dominated power structures. The seven words Gutterman mentioned are part of a stand up comedy routine. If you’re curious, the words are shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits. Three female-oriented words are included in this list created by a man. Notice cock is not on the list but cocksucker is, as if the person in the act is vulgar. What about milk glands and areolas is offensive? And why is cunt more vulgar than dick?
“Patriarchy is a scam—that's why,” Quichiz said. “It is not the same thing at all, even if there are more words to offend a woman than a man.”
It’s all about power, about knocking down women to strengthen the egos of men. That is why the basis of the movement toward reclaiming the word “cunt” revolves around the idea that my cunt is mine and I should be allowed to do as I please with it. As Inga Muscio writes in her book, Cunt, “We women have responsibilities. Here are a few: seizing a vocabulary for ourselves… and taking this knowledge out into the community.”
The power does not lie within the word. The power of cunt lies in the unity of all women and LGBTQ bodies.
While the word is empowering for some, it isn’t for everyone. According to Amy Quichiz, a Latinx activist and Syracuse graduate, “I can't say what’s empowering to some women because what is empowering to one can be the complete opposite for another, especially because women have different experiences and can be triggered by the word ‘cunt.’ But I do believe it is empowering for women to choose what they believe is best for them.”
We have to remember that the reclamation must be intersectional.
“Honor other women. Ask if it is okay to use that word around them, and have dialogues on why that word can be inappropriate to some women,” Quichiz said.
It’s not my place to police who can and cannot use the word cunt. But what I do propose is a simple rule for this reclamation: if it can be used against you, you are probably cool to reclaim it. If you can use the word to insult an individual, then probably not. If that’s too confusing and you happen to be a straight, cis male, let me make it simple for you. Just don’t say it.
The word’s history lies in our country’s systemic patriarchy. When we refuse to allow “cunt” to be an insult, then we will have reclaimed it.