FAMILIES' GIBBERISH HAS BECOME A FIELD OF STUDY
We had spent the day at the park, looking at the sqwacks and sqwans when he went boom, got an owie, resulting in a trip to the hoppitable for snitches. To make everything better, the day concluded with a great asghetti dinner and two scoops. Thank heaven, we didn't lose his su-sugah in the process.
Translation: We had spent the day at the park, looking at the ducks and swans, when he fell, hurt himself, resulting in a trip to the hospital for stitches. To make everything better, the day concluded with a great spaghetti dinner and ice cream for dessert. Thank heaven we didn't lose his pacifier in the process.
That's an example of what's known as a “familect,” which is what you get when you smush the words “family” and “dialect” into one word. Although families are well-recognized for inventing their own private vernaculars, until 2009, there was no academic term that defined the idea.
That's when a young Georgetown University prof coined the term for the ways that families create language unique to their own subset. Familect encompasses the inside jokes, the zany evolutions of words, the pet names, and the intentionally mispronounced terms that seem automatically generated within a group.
Perhaps familects are an odd thing to study. I mean, who really cares if your family calls cucumbers, cumbercues? But it does provide an interesting way at looking at how language evolves, and how language is a reflection of just about everything.
Take for example the word apron. An apron serves an obvious purpose, but at some point in human history, someone had to say, “Let's take a length of fabric and fashion it as protection.” Now, the idea of a tablecloth has existed for millennia — laying down a fabric cover for a surface elevated the act of eating. That fabric would have been called, in Latin, a mappa, or in Old French, a nappe, or nape. The thinking is that, long ago, someone took a tablecloth and wrapped it around themselves as they tended the fire, resulting in the Middle English term napron. Over time, the preceding “n” was discarded and now you'll find an apron hanging from a peg in most kitchens.
How does this happen? Why does it happen? What does it tell us about ourselves? Well, it can tell us a lot.
Baseball teams are referred to as clubs. That's because long before they became professional, baseball teams were fraternal organizations for people of leisure. The players wore straw boaters and the social gathering was considered more important than the score. As competition heated up, the clubs started bringing in ringers and it wasn't long before the game was launched on the path to where we are today, with Shohei Ohtani's 10-year, $700-million contract.
Baseball would go on to add dozens of terms — “curveball” and “strikeout” among them — to the North American dialect, many of which have never strayed from this continent. Take the case of British football versus the North American version of the same, which we call soccer. According to the Smithsonian magazine, British fans chose to call the sport “football” in the 1980s as a backlash to American fans choosing the word “soccer.” In some ways, this is the equivalent of one family's cumbercue being another family's cuke-adukes.
It's all about identity.
Jane Macdougall is a freelance writer and former National Post columnist who lives in Vancouver. She writes The Bookless Club every Saturday online and in The Vancouver Sun. For more of what Jane's up to, check out her website, janemacdougall.com
THIS WEEK'S QUESTION FOR READERS:
What are some gems from your own familects?
Send your answers by email text, not an attachment, in 100 words or less, along with your full name to Jane at thebooklessclub@gmail.com. We will print some next week in this space.
READERS' RESPONSES TO LAST WEEK'S QUESTION: Would you have paid this parking ticket?
No damn way! Trudy Halliday
I am surprised that your friend with a history in customer service would pay a ticket to a company that had treated her so poorly. Especially when Austin hung up on her. I would have sent a letter addressed to the manager with a copy sent to the mayor, the parks board and the city manager. I would have included a copy of the proof of payment extending the time. The letter would politely ask them to rescind the ticket. I would not pay the ticket. Life is short, but if people do not speak up to unfair charges, companies will take advantage.
Karen Kilbride
For $117, I would not pay the parking ticket and use that money to change the licence plate. Any car with outstanding tickets will be impounded the next time you park at their lot. They track you with the licence plate.
Loo Soon Hung