Istill remember the morning I walked out of my house. We had moved into the neighborhood about a year earlier. There, written in the dust on the back of my dad’s car, “(expletive) Mormons.”

I asked my dad what it meant, and he told me not to worry about it. But I did worry about it, because I could tell from the fear in my dad’s eyes that he worried about it. And pretty soon, I discovered what it meant.

It turns out there was a local church where the pastor had made a point of preaching against our faith, going so far as to describe us as demonic from the pulpit.

I never knew if the two were connected. I did know most of the kids on the street wouldn’t play with us.

In society today, cursing is so commonplace as to attract little to no commentary. Yet as we’ve seen explicit chants agai

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