Made-up Words

MADE-UP WORDS
By Steve Orr

If you read my earlier post, “Wrong War,” about a couple of incidents my daughter encountered during her grade school years, you may recall that one of her teachers told her “foretaste” is not a word. In that post I talked a bit about how that incident engendered some interesting dialog between my daughter and me. What I didn’t tell you there is a side discussion we had about the genesis of words. I took that opportunity to explain to my daughter one of those things I was lucky enough to learn pretty early in life.

All words are made-up words.

Granted, it’s not magic; but knowing it does help a person cope with those self-appointed arbiters of language who are often quick to criticize any word they don’t recognize. Unless you live in France (where they, by law, limit the words allowed in their language), you probably speak a language that evolves. And if your native language is English, then you speak the one that evolves at the greatest rate of speed.

It always starts the same way. One of us makes a sound. Then, one of us, maybe even the same person, assigns a value to that sound. Then, before you can say lickety-split, one or more of us defines the sound. Suddenly (or, oh … so … slowly) we string those words together and make a language. All of it, every bit of it, is made-up.

Take “Bookcrossing” for instance. Less than a decade ago the word had not even been coined (See? We even have a word to describe the creation of words: “coined.”). Then, in 2001 a few people got together and created Bookcrossing.com. Now, you can look up “Bookcrossing” in the dictionary. Once it was added to a dictionary it officially became a word in the English language; but it needs to be pointed out that, despite the lag time from coining to dictionary inclusion, “Bookcrossing” was actually a word the moment it was coined. After that creation moment its existence was no longer open for debate. What was left to determine were things like general recognition in the populace, breadth of usage, acceptance by a dictionary, etc. In Hollywood parlance, the question became, “Does it have legs?” Can it survive?

“Foretaste,” I assured my daughter, was in fact, and had been for quite some time, a word; the comments of her English teacher not withstanding. But, I told her, even if it had not been a word, there was no reason to exclude it from the society of words simply due to the fact that it had not previously existed before she included it in her paper.

All words are made-up words.

The trick, if that is the right word, is in how we introduce our coined words. And, there is something to the fact that some people are more empowered by our society to coin words than other people. There is a big word that describes newly coined words: neologism. Many of the commonly used words currently in use in the English language started life as neologisms spoken by U. S. Presidents. Take “lobbyist” for example. President Grant coined the term during a period when he lived in the The Willard, a Washington, DC hotel (still) located near the White House. It was no secret he lived there, so people lurked in the lobby waiting for any opportunity to “bend the ear” of the chief executive. Grant lamented once that he could not leave the hotel without having to wade though a sea of “lobbyist.” And, "Presto Chango!" we had a new word. The word had a little help with its launch when newspaper reporters and publishers spread the word throughout the nation by reporting on the President’s comment. There are a plethora of incidents of U. S. Presidents making up words, all of which you can learn with a bit of “Googling.”

However, most of us are not, and will not be, a U.S. President. So, how would one introduce a neologism should one wish to? We need not only a process, but also a strategy. The easiest way, and the one with the least chance of negative backlash from the language police, is to call attention to its newness when first using it. When speaking or writing the new word, say or write something like, “to coin a term” just before you actually reveal the new word. Then, if it is not obvious to the reader/hearer, define the new word. That way, you’ve covered your bases. In other words, make sure the person grading/critiquing your communication knows that you know it is not a word already in common usage. Your audience may or may not like your new word, and you may still get a comment like “Not a word!” But at least you won’t be dinged for being stupid or uneducated.

Another idea, and one that is pretty much accepted by all readers, is to place your newly coined word in quotes. That alerts the reader to the fact that you know the word in not a commonly used word. In many cases, especially if your neologism is being used in context, nothing more is needed than some judiciously placed quote marks. This is often seen when a writer or speaker is “verbing the noun”; using a noun as a verb (e.g., when one tells one to “Google” a term or phrase to learn what information can be found about it on the Internet). If your neologism is a combination of two existing words, for example, “near” and “ground,” adding a hyphen can serve as a signal to the reader that you are in the process of word creation; thus introducing the term, “near-ground” (as opposed to the background .. yes, I know “foreground” already exists as a counter to background, but, as a writer, I like the sound of, and subtly different meaning of, “nearground”).

So, while you may not wish to blithely go about inserting made-up words in your English papers, please do not feel you are restricted to using only the words in common usage. If the very word you need to express your thought doesn’t exist, then you have my permission to “neologe” as needed. Because …

All words are made-up words.

Wrong War

WRONG WAR

By Steve Orr

The title is misleading. This is not a rant about the war du jour. This is a story (and, maybe a little rant) about the care teachers should take in exercising their powers.

When my daughter was progressing through grade school she was taught by some very good teachers, a handful of excellent teachers, and the rare dud teacher. Here follows two vignettes for your consideration.

During her middle school years my daughter was required by one social studies teacher to write a longish paper for his class. In her submission, she suggested there might be some relationships between the Russian Revolution and the beginnings of World War One. When she received her paper back we found the teacher had written, in red ink, on each page of the paper, “WRONG WAR!” My daughter was so upset she could not go beyond the first two pages. However, when I read through the paper (preparing to do battle; right parents?), I carefully re-read her paper (having read it carefully before she even submitted it). I could see how she might make such a mistake, but how could WE, her loving and educated parents? ;-) When I got to the last page of the paper, I saw the teacher had assigned her a grade of “A” and had written a note, in red ink, “Ignore comments about wrong war.”

In this case, the teacher finally realized the real problem; not that my daughter was confused about which war, rather that HE was thinking of the wrong war (or possibly the wrong revolution). It turned out to provide an excellent “teachable moment” we could use to discuss things like being certain of your sources, ensuring your facts are correct, and the need to ensure that the two things being compared are not a case of “apples v. oranges.” And, though it seemed a little early for such a talk, we discussed the fact that you might have to defend your work to those that don’t understand it; a daunting task even for a doctoral candidate and an almost impossible idea for an 8^th grader to grasp. All ended well, but oh! the trauma we traversed to get there.

In high school, my daughter received back a paper on which the teacher had written the comment, “Not a word!” next to the word, “foretaste.” That in itself is very sad; sadder still is the fact that the commenter was her English teacher. I grant you, a teacher in another discipline might not know the word. I can’t remember any of my math teachers using the word. It never came up in science class. But English?! If ever there was a subject in which a teacher would exercise care with words, English is that subject.

Encarta defines the word as: “a sample or indication of what is to come.” Merriam-Webster says: “(1) a small anticipatory sample, (2) an advance indication or warning.” Perhaps this English teacher had never sung the hymn “Blessed Assurance” in church with its “foretaste of glory divine.” Even Microsoft Word’s spellchecker recognizes “foretaste” [however, a caution; that is not always a dependable source for reliance. I once typed the word “telecommute” and Word’s spellchecker did not recognize it; suggesting I might rather have meant to type “teleport.” Because, you know, so many people DO that.].

Well, by the time a student is in high school, it is a little easier to discuss the fact that there is just too much for any one person to know, and that, in this case, perhaps this teacher just had never encountered the word (!) in all her studies. It was also the moment to discuss the politics of being careful about confronting ignorant uneducated unknowledgeable people who are in a position of power over you. We had an excellent discussion about diplomacy and its uses in pursuit of an education. In short, we let it go. Some things just cannot be done (like telling an English teacher that s/he does not know the language).

Now before you take up arms and defend your favorite teacher (or all teachers), let me assure you, I believe teachers are among the most important people in our lives. As the spouse of a teacher and as the product of one of the best educational systems in the world, I have great respect for teachers. My concern is not with the teachers who show up every day and do the job of teaching our children, and it is certainly not with those teachers who excel. My concern is with those few teachers who, though not physicians, could learn a thing or two from the central theme of the Hippocratic Oath (“First do no harm’).

Should our children’s work be corrected when it is wrong? Absolutely! All I ask is this: teachers, if you are reading this, please (oh, please!) be sure before you write something in big red letters on a child’s paper. The impact of your words and actions are far greater than you may realize; and can last a lifetime, for good or ill.

And a request of you, gentle reader: do you know of other stories like the two set forth above? If so, tell me about it (them) in a comment on this piece. Thanks!