If I could erase a single word from everyday language, it would be one of those slurs designed solely to wound — the kind of word that has no purpose except to dehumanize. Every culture has at least one. You don’t need me to repeat it; you already know the one that makes your stomach tighten when you hear it.

What makes these words so corrosive isn’t just their history, though that history is heavy. It’s the way they linger in the air long after they’re spoken, how they can turn a room cold in an instant. A slur isn’t just a collection of letters. It’s a weapon. It’s a reminder of violence, exclusion, and the idea that some people are “less than.”

Language evolves — beautifully, creatively, chaotically — but hate‑words don’t evolve. They calcify. They drag the worst parts of our past into the present. And while banning a word won’t magically fix the systems or attitudes that created it, removing it from casual usage would at least take away one of the easiest tools for causing harm.

Imagine a world where the laziest form of cruelty simply… didn’t exist. Where people had to confront their prejudice without the shortcut of a single toxic syllable. That’s a world I’d like to help build.

Words shape reality. So if I get to ban one, I’ll choose the kind that was never meant to build anything at all.