My husband asked me the other day if chagrined was the right word in the opening sentence of my previous blog post.
As the American Heritage Dictionary notes, chagrin can be a noun or verb.
n. A keen feeling of mental unease, as of annoyance or embarrassment, caused by failure, disappointment, or a disconcerting event: To her chagrin, the party ended just as she arrived.
tr.v. chagrined, chagrining, chagrins To cause to feel chagrin; mortify or discomfit: He was chagrined at the poor sales of his book. See Synonyms at embarrass.
Webster's Third New International Dictionary offers these definitions:
As a noun:
1. obs. disturbance of mind resulting from care or anxiety: worry: depression of spirits: melancholy.
2. vexation, disquietude, or distress of mind brought on by failure or error
As a verb:
1. archaic to cause to feel anxiety: trouble: grieve
2. to vex through humiliation, hurt pride, or disappointment
As an adjective:
1. feeling or made to feel chagrin: disappointed: mortified
Well, I must express my chagrin that I didn't hew to the nuances of the term's meaning when I used chagrined in my previous posting to mean simply "vexed" or "disappointed." The term has a clear history and linkage to the concepts of shame and humiliation, and while I may feel embarrassed now as a word nerd who misused a term, I certainly had no cause to feel shame myself for the removal of the Merriam Webster Collegiate Dictionary from the classrooms of a school district in California as I had no part in that.
You could argue that my use of chagrin was ok, given that the definitions allow for a broad sense of disappointment not necessarily always connected to humiliation, the same way people sometimes use shame colloquially to mean disappointment, as in "what a shame the rain ruined our picnic." However, as someone who is writing a vocabulary blog and pointing out the importance of the nuances of words' meanings, I have to 'fess up to this lapse. I plead guilty to allowing the allure of alliteration to supersede accurate usage. So, honey, you were right.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
School District Blows Off Dictionary Over Graphic Term
Normally I'm chagrined but not shocked when I hear that a school has banned a book, but my mouth hung agape when I read that a California school district has banned the Merriam Webster Dictionary from its classrooms. Oh, wait, sorry; according to the Los Angeles Times article, the school district didn't ban the tomes, but rather "temporarily housed [them] off location" till their suitability for the district's pupils can be assessed, said a spokeswoman for the Menifee Union School District in southwest Riverside County.
So what evils lurk inside Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary (10th ed.)? Well, oral sex, for one thing. A Menifee parent contacted the principal of Oak Meadows Elementary School to complain that book contained the term and its graphic definition. Now, a committee is being formed to sift the dictionary -- which I'll refer to henceforth as the MWCD -- to see what other potentially explicit terms and definitions skulk inside.
I grant that the aghast parent contacted the elementary school, which presumably means her/his child is at an age at which, you could argue, the term oral sex should not be a part of the common vernacular. Also, the school district's spokeswoman took pains to note that the MWCD, which had been available in the fourth and fifth grade classrooms, is not the only dictionary available in the district's schools. But it turns out that the term oral sex was not actually in the MWCD, according to the Southwest Riverside News!
Does a collegiate dictionary belong in elementary school classrooms? As the district's school board president Rita Peters noted, the schools use the MWCD for their spelling bees. I'm personally inclined to agree with Peter Scheer, executive director of the First Amendment Coalition, who told the LA Times, "At the end of the day, if my kid is digging through the Merriam Webster dictionary to find words he and his friends are going to giggle over but along the way find other words they will use, I think that is a day well spent in school." But are there other word tomes that eschew terms such as oral sex, yet still provide the range of a collegiate dictionary? I suppose the school district's committee will attempt to figure that out.
In the interim, if you're like me, imaging this group's working sessions conjures more than a few grins.
So what evils lurk inside Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary (10th ed.)? Well, oral sex, for one thing. A Menifee parent contacted the principal of Oak Meadows Elementary School to complain that book contained the term and its graphic definition. Now, a committee is being formed to sift the dictionary -- which I'll refer to henceforth as the MWCD -- to see what other potentially explicit terms and definitions skulk inside.
I grant that the aghast parent contacted the elementary school, which presumably means her/his child is at an age at which, you could argue, the term oral sex should not be a part of the common vernacular. Also, the school district's spokeswoman took pains to note that the MWCD, which had been available in the fourth and fifth grade classrooms, is not the only dictionary available in the district's schools. But it turns out that the term oral sex was not actually in the MWCD, according to the Southwest Riverside News!
Does a collegiate dictionary belong in elementary school classrooms? As the district's school board president Rita Peters noted, the schools use the MWCD for their spelling bees. I'm personally inclined to agree with Peter Scheer, executive director of the First Amendment Coalition, who told the LA Times, "At the end of the day, if my kid is digging through the Merriam Webster dictionary to find words he and his friends are going to giggle over but along the way find other words they will use, I think that is a day well spent in school." But are there other word tomes that eschew terms such as oral sex, yet still provide the range of a collegiate dictionary? I suppose the school district's committee will attempt to figure that out.
In the interim, if you're like me, imaging this group's working sessions conjures more than a few grins.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
What's A Looter?
Think words are innocuous little scratches on paper or so much ephemeral vapor on the air? Then clearly you've not stumbled across the Comments section following a blog post or article talking about the increase of looting in Haiti in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake there. People are vigorously engaged in an emotional, sometimes heated, debate about the appropriateness and propriety of using the words looters and looting in the context of this disaster.
People's takes on whether these are the "right" or "wrong" terms to use get into issues of race, equality, and socioeconomic status. As vocabulary is the focus of this blog, I will leave the exploration of those topics for other venues. Those interested in delving into the social issues should peruse this useful collection of commentaries my husband compiled regarding earlier debates of the use of looters in coverage and discussions of Hurricane Katrina's aftermath five years ago:
According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, the foremost definition of loot as a noun is "goods, esp. private property, taken from an enemy in war." The dictionary continues:
The granddaddy of dictionaries, the Oxford English Dictionary, says of loot:
A quick tour through the options on Dictionary.com shows references to spoils, plunder, pillaging, burglary and theft.
The word loot's origins are Sanskrit, either lotra or luptra meaning "booty" or "spoil," the root lup meaning "to break;" or lunt meaning "to rob."
So is what's happening in Haiti looting by definition? You could say yes, whether it's a bag of rice or a bicycle or a TV, something taken without payment is theft and at its origins and within its principal definitions, loot means robbery.
On the other hand, is a desperately hungry individual stealing food or water committing thievery in the same way that someone walking off with a TV is? When the theft is for the purpose of survival, I think it may be more apt to call that person a scavenger. Of course, how does a witness know whether the person taking something out of store or a truck is doing so as a matter or survival or as an opportunist who plans to turn the goods over for profit?
Delving further into the nuances of the term, loot in the sense of "booty" and "valuable goods" conveys the idea that looters are people with the upper hand, conquerors seizing the spoils of their victory. Hard to look at Haiti and see much in the way of victory; rather, it's a scene of utter desperation.
At the same time, loot in the sense of "pillage" conveys disorganization and randomness as well as opportunism. Those seem to be hallmarks of the aftermath of major upheavals such as natural disasters.
I think your sense of whether loot is an appropriate term for discussions about the Haitian earthquake rests on which nuance of the term is embedded in your mind. And if it means theft pure and simple to you, then your sense of appropriateness is likely further shaped by where you come down on the philosophical question of whether taking necessities such as food or clothing without payment as a matter of survival is scavenging or thievery. May we who've never been in a situation to have to weigh that moral distinction as a reality rather than a hypothetical continue to be so fortunate. And may all the help possible come to those in need right now in Haiti.
People's takes on whether these are the "right" or "wrong" terms to use get into issues of race, equality, and socioeconomic status. As vocabulary is the focus of this blog, I will leave the exploration of those topics for other venues. Those interested in delving into the social issues should peruse this useful collection of commentaries my husband compiled regarding earlier debates of the use of looters in coverage and discussions of Hurricane Katrina's aftermath five years ago:
- NPR: A Perspective on Looters and Race
- N.Y. Times: Who's a Looter? In Storm's Aftermath, Pictures Kick Up a Different Kind of Tempest
- Washington Post: Natural Disasters in Black and White
- Poynter Institute: American Behemoth
According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, the foremost definition of loot as a noun is "goods, esp. private property, taken from an enemy in war." The dictionary continues:
• stolen money or valuables: two men wearing stocking masks, each swinging a bag of loot.
• informal money; wealth: the thief made off with $5 million in loot.
verb [ trans. ]
steal goods from (a place), typically during a war or riot: police confronted the rioters who were looting shops.
• steal (goods) in such circumstances: tons of food aid awaiting distribution had been looted.
The granddaddy of dictionaries, the Oxford English Dictionary, says of loot:
1. Goods (esp. articles of considerable value) taken from an enemy, a captured city, etc. in time of war; also, in wider sense, something taken by force or with violence; booty, plunder, spoil; now sometimes transf., illicit gains, 'pillage' (e.g. by a public servant). Also, the act or process of looting.
2. slang. Money.
A quick tour through the options on Dictionary.com shows references to spoils, plunder, pillaging, burglary and theft.
The word loot's origins are Sanskrit, either lotra or luptra meaning "booty" or "spoil," the root lup meaning "to break;" or lunt meaning "to rob."
So is what's happening in Haiti looting by definition? You could say yes, whether it's a bag of rice or a bicycle or a TV, something taken without payment is theft and at its origins and within its principal definitions, loot means robbery.
On the other hand, is a desperately hungry individual stealing food or water committing thievery in the same way that someone walking off with a TV is? When the theft is for the purpose of survival, I think it may be more apt to call that person a scavenger. Of course, how does a witness know whether the person taking something out of store or a truck is doing so as a matter or survival or as an opportunist who plans to turn the goods over for profit?
Delving further into the nuances of the term, loot in the sense of "booty" and "valuable goods" conveys the idea that looters are people with the upper hand, conquerors seizing the spoils of their victory. Hard to look at Haiti and see much in the way of victory; rather, it's a scene of utter desperation.
At the same time, loot in the sense of "pillage" conveys disorganization and randomness as well as opportunism. Those seem to be hallmarks of the aftermath of major upheavals such as natural disasters.
I think your sense of whether loot is an appropriate term for discussions about the Haitian earthquake rests on which nuance of the term is embedded in your mind. And if it means theft pure and simple to you, then your sense of appropriateness is likely further shaped by where you come down on the philosophical question of whether taking necessities such as food or clothing without payment as a matter of survival is scavenging or thievery. May we who've never been in a situation to have to weigh that moral distinction as a reality rather than a hypothetical continue to be so fortunate. And may all the help possible come to those in need right now in Haiti.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Inflection Upon Reflection
Got into a discussion today about the use of the term inflection with another individual who appreciates the finer nuances of words. We were discussing a written description of a program that has encountered sufficient obstacles to undermine its ongoing success. As the document stated, it has "reached an inflection point." I contended that this is an obscure term for conveying the idea that the program has reached a point where change must happen and this usage seems pretentious. I suggested that a more straightforward way to say it would be turning point. My colleague countered that inflection is a particularly apt term that conveys a more deft nuance that turning point doesn't capture. After delving into the matter, I think you could decide either of us is right, depending on how you're familiar with the term.
My understanding of the term inflection comes from the context of language. I am, after all, a former English lit grad student. Inflection is a word I think of as associated with speech, more specifically intonation, how someone inflects, or modulates, his voice to convey meaning. For example, by the inflection of his voice, you can tell whether a person is making a statement or asking a question. Or you can tell whether a teen is using "dude!" to mean "way to go!" or "no way!" The term is also a grammatical device, the variation of a word -- generally the ending -- to signify a particular tense, mood, gender, etc. Given this context, I'd say it's not entirely surprising that I would stumble over its usage upon first read of this document.
Had my background been more science and mathematics oriented, however, perhaps I would have encountered the phrase inflection point or point of inflection previously. In geometry, inflection point refers to the particular point on a line that is changing from convex to concave (or vice versa) at which this change takes place. It's the stationary point right as the change occurs. The Wikipedia page on the topic (assuming it's generally accurate) offers a useful example for us non-math majors: "If one imagines driving a vehicle along a winding road, inflection is the point at which the steering-wheel is momentarily 'straight' when being turned from left to right or vice versa."
At its roots, the word inflect means "to bend inwards, to curve or bend into an angle," according to the Oxford English Dictionary. The OED's first definition of inflection is the literal meaning of "the condition of being bent or curved" and then the figurative meaning of "a mental or moral bending or turning." The use of inflection to refer to the modulation of written or spoken language derives from the figurative use of the term's sense of alteration, change.
So are inflection point and turning point direct synonyms in the context of the document we started with, or do they convey different meanings? My colleague made the case that inflection point conveys a sense of a less radical or less dramatic change, which is appropriate to the program being described, whereas turning point can convey a sense of a sharper or quicker rate of change, a right-angle or 180-degree change. (Grant you, I'm paraphrasing here.) From a scientific mindset, thinking of that steering wheel at that static point before veering into the next curve, I can see how that makes sense. Moreover, in that mathematical sense, the term means being on the cusp of change, and that is another point I think the document's authors wished to convey.
However, as a layperson who found the term's usage in the document akin to a stumbling block that tripped up my reading, I'm still not convinced that it works here. Nor am I convinced that turning point isn't a reasonable substitute. After all, turns can be gradual as well as sharp; and bends can be sharp as well as gradual.
The bottom line of what this document is trying to convey is that this program is at a point where change must happen. Curve, inflection, and turn all figuratively convey the idea of change and therefore, I think, all could substitute for one another in most readers' minds. Given that of these choices, inflection is the least familiar, I personally think turning point would better achieve the ultimate goal of communicating the essential idea to the greatest number of potential audience members.
But you may side with my colleague and my mind is still open to inflection.
My understanding of the term inflection comes from the context of language. I am, after all, a former English lit grad student. Inflection is a word I think of as associated with speech, more specifically intonation, how someone inflects, or modulates, his voice to convey meaning. For example, by the inflection of his voice, you can tell whether a person is making a statement or asking a question. Or you can tell whether a teen is using "dude!" to mean "way to go!" or "no way!" The term is also a grammatical device, the variation of a word -- generally the ending -- to signify a particular tense, mood, gender, etc. Given this context, I'd say it's not entirely surprising that I would stumble over its usage upon first read of this document.
Had my background been more science and mathematics oriented, however, perhaps I would have encountered the phrase inflection point or point of inflection previously. In geometry, inflection point refers to the particular point on a line that is changing from convex to concave (or vice versa) at which this change takes place. It's the stationary point right as the change occurs. The Wikipedia page on the topic (assuming it's generally accurate) offers a useful example for us non-math majors: "If one imagines driving a vehicle along a winding road, inflection is the point at which the steering-wheel is momentarily 'straight' when being turned from left to right or vice versa."
At its roots, the word inflect means "to bend inwards, to curve or bend into an angle," according to the Oxford English Dictionary. The OED's first definition of inflection is the literal meaning of "the condition of being bent or curved" and then the figurative meaning of "a mental or moral bending or turning." The use of inflection to refer to the modulation of written or spoken language derives from the figurative use of the term's sense of alteration, change.
So are inflection point and turning point direct synonyms in the context of the document we started with, or do they convey different meanings? My colleague made the case that inflection point conveys a sense of a less radical or less dramatic change, which is appropriate to the program being described, whereas turning point can convey a sense of a sharper or quicker rate of change, a right-angle or 180-degree change. (Grant you, I'm paraphrasing here.) From a scientific mindset, thinking of that steering wheel at that static point before veering into the next curve, I can see how that makes sense. Moreover, in that mathematical sense, the term means being on the cusp of change, and that is another point I think the document's authors wished to convey.
However, as a layperson who found the term's usage in the document akin to a stumbling block that tripped up my reading, I'm still not convinced that it works here. Nor am I convinced that turning point isn't a reasonable substitute. After all, turns can be gradual as well as sharp; and bends can be sharp as well as gradual.
The bottom line of what this document is trying to convey is that this program is at a point where change must happen. Curve, inflection, and turn all figuratively convey the idea of change and therefore, I think, all could substitute for one another in most readers' minds. Given that of these choices, inflection is the least familiar, I personally think turning point would better achieve the ultimate goal of communicating the essential idea to the greatest number of potential audience members.
But you may side with my colleague and my mind is still open to inflection.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
New Year, New Commitment & A Supreme Court Vocabulary Lesson
Talk about taking a hiatus! A fun word in and of itself, from Latin hiare literally meaning "gape." Given the gaping maw between this post and my last, this blog had basically flat-lined. But 'tis January, the month of Janus, the two-faced deity who looks both forward and backward, the god of gateways and doorways, of beginnings and endings. It's the season of resolutions and so mine is to revive my blog and reimmerse myself in the joys of both word-play and writing.
I was reminded of the pleasures of the playground of vocabulary by a fine little item in today's Washington Post, encapsulating an amusing exchange in the hallowed chamber of the Supreme Court, not of legal repartee, but of verbal badinage. Richard D. Friedman, a University of Michigan law professor testifying to the court in the case of Briscoe v. Virginia, piqued the justices' interest with his use of a 10-dollar term in his response to a question from Justice Kennedy. Friedman "added that it was 'entirely orthogonal' to the argument he was making" in the case. As the Post article continued:
I was reminded of the pleasures of the playground of vocabulary by a fine little item in today's Washington Post, encapsulating an amusing exchange in the hallowed chamber of the Supreme Court, not of legal repartee, but of verbal badinage. Richard D. Friedman, a University of Michigan law professor testifying to the court in the case of Briscoe v. Virginia, piqued the justices' interest with his use of a 10-dollar term in his response to a question from Justice Kennedy. Friedman "added that it was 'entirely orthogonal' to the argument he was making" in the case. As the Post article continued:
Friedman attempted to move on, but Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. stopped him.Scalia then jumped in:
"I'm sorry," Roberts said. "Entirely what?"
"Orthogonal," Friedman repeated, and then defined the word: "Right angle. Unrelated. Irrelevant."
"Oh," Roberts replied.
"What was that adjective?" Scalia asked Monday. "I liked that."I'm tickled to point out that as of 10:30 p.m. ET on the day this article ran as something of a sidebar to the main article about the hearing of the case at hand, the Post web site had logged 29 comments on this vocabulary story. The main article? 14.
"Orthogonal," Friedman said.
"Orthogonal," Roberts said.
"Orthogonal," Scalia said. "Ooh."
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