Hopeful Language

We just helped our son move from Tuscaloosa, Alabama to Henderson, Nevada.  The three of us each drove a vehicle - my son drove his car, I drove our minivan, and my husband drove the moving truck.  To get there, the three of us drove 1800 miles, eating in our car and in hotel rooms (trying to be safe).  The scenery out the window was usually fantastic (on the way back, there were just a few too many cornfields). 

Much of the drive through Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Nevada was through areas that were dry.  Dry dry dry.  And hot.  HOT HOT HOT.  I don't care what they say about a dry heat, it was 110 degrees when we unloaded the moving truck, and all the dry heat meant was that you got dehydrated faster.

Anyway, Dry and hot. But along the way, there were small bridges that passed over what were called "Washes."  Such as Rattlesnake Wash.  These were what I would call dry creek beds.  There must be times during the year when water washes through them.  And there are parts of Henderson named Green Valley and Spring Valley.  Lush, even green, names.  There were "rivers" where there was barely any water.  Tiny things we would not call a river - we would call them a creek.

What struck me about all of this was that the language used to refer to them was hopeful.  Even though a wash had no sign of water, the language suggests that it would, eventually.  Even though Green Valley didn't look very Green, the name suggest that sometimes it is.  Calling a small creek a "river' suggest that sometimes it is a river, or it suggests that even though we know this flowing water is tiny, we are so grateful for it that we will call it a river.  It is that abundant to us.

How does our language reflect our hopefulness? 

For example, I am usually annoyed by someone calling the period of time we are in, our "new normal."  To me, that does not convey any hope at all.  To me, it says, "This is normal.  This is what we expect in the future."  I would rather call it the "current reality."  This is what it is now, but nothing in that phrase says that where we are now is where we expect to be in the future.  To me, "Current reality" connotes that there will be a future reality, and it may be different. 

What hopeful language can you use today?

Correctness

I'm listening to a Great Courses series of lectures called "The Secret Life of Words: English Words and their Origins." The lecturing professor is Anne Curzan. She is the dean of Literature, Science, and the Arts at the University of Michigan. The lecture series is fascinating. I've been springing tidbits on Steve each evening - there are many ah ha moments regarding language. 

 Today as I was driving into work, the lecture topic was "Firefighters and Freshpersons." In this lecture, Curzan defines politically correct language as "language that respects all groups of speakers and respects what groups would like to be called. It also works from the premise that language matters." 

 Think about that for a moment. In my workplace, we spend a lot of time making sure that we spell people's names correctly - correctly being defined as how that person spells his or her own name. If Jayne Smythe says that is how her name is spelled, then to spell it Jane Smith would be wrong. I like this definition of politically correct language because it pulls its "correctness" from the subject of the language, and that makes sense to me. 

 Language does matter. How we speak is what people hear. What they hear has an impact on them, and on their beliefs about us, and about their beliefs concerning what we believe. It shapes what is acceptable behavior. And it shows our respect (or lack of respect) for someone else. The old adage that "words will never hurt us" is wrong. You know it, and I know it - both of us, I'm sure, have been hurt by words. Word choice is important. And we can't refuse the accept the responsibility for the impact our words have on someone else. Or even on society. 

 For example, it's been a very long time since I was a girl. Or a young lady. And there are still people who use those words when speaking to me or about me. To me, they denote a lack of respect for who I am. No one would come into our office and refer to the men (man) here as a boy or a young man. Because he isn't. And when someone uses them to refer to me, my image of that person is shaped by the disrespect I perceive. To say that I am being "overly sensitive" is to deny the responsibility for the impact of the words. 

 The truth is, I want people to be respectful of others, and I want to be respectful of others. Respect is a sign that you see the person in front of you as another human - not as an object. And if we can't sum up the change of heart to be respectful in truth, then we can at the very least, demonstrate correctness by our word choice. It's trite, but fake it until you make it. Our language can change the world, even if our heart has not been changed. And then, maybe then, our hearts will grow, too.