In an early job, I got feedback that my email correspondence needed to be more sophisticated. I was firing off, “Hey, do you have that expense report?” while my boss preferred the formalities of a traditional letter, including a salutation (a “Dear” and title/name combo) and a complimentary closing (such as “Best regards” or “Sincerely”). That level of formality has dropped out of all but the most professional email communications, but the etiquette persists for handwritten letters. Where did “Dear” come from, what does it mean, and what other options are there for conscientious email writers?
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The word “dear,” from the eighth-century Old English “deoare,” originally meant something was precious or costly, but evolved into calling out something/someone as special. (That first usage still exists, but it’s less common.) “Dear” was used, starting around the 14th century, as a salutation for only the most intimate letters: “Dearest sister,” “To my dear friend,” etc. The phrase “dearly beloved” was introduced in a 1662 Bible translation called the “Book of Common Prayer,” and it became a traditional component of wedding ceremonies (and the classic opener of a Prince tune), furthering the association of “dear” with loved ones.
Around the 17th century, the term became the standard opening for most polite communication and a way to start any letter as a show of respect: “Dear Mr. Smith,” “Dear Sir or Madam,” etc. Eventually we moved on from regular letter writing as the primary mode of communication between family and friends, and in the 20th century, people wrote more memorandums than love letters. Once email became standard, some people retained the formality of the written structure, and others took the opportunity to let the “To” and “From” fields do the work for them — no salutations or closings needed.
But many people — including the Washington Post’s Miss Manners — aren’t ready to let go of “dear,” no matter the format. Career experts recommend using “dear” as a salutation in formal email correspondence, such as cover letters, but only when you know the recipient’s name; the impersonal “Dear Sir or Madam” is definitely extinct. (A Google or LinkedIn search can help you out with names.) For standard missives between colleagues, consider starting the first message with “Hi [name]” and closing with your name as well. Future replies in the chain don’t need a salutation.
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Samantha Abernethy is a freelancer in Chicago. When she isn't staring at a laptop, you can find her sniffing out the best coffee with her greyhound Ruby, or chasing her kids around the nearest library.
Some bits of advice are instilled in us from a very young age: Eat your vegetables, look both ways before crossing the street, and, of course, never begin a sentence with a conjunction. The latter comes to us directly from grammar class, but is it really a rule? Nope. In fact, it’s merely a suggestion. Starting sentences with a conjunction is perfectly OK in a grammatical sense, and it may even improve your writing.
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But let’s go back to basics first. A conjunction is a word that connects two clauses of sentences. Subordinating conjunctions (“because,” “since,” “after,” etc.) link independent and dependent clauses. Correlative conjunctions (“either/or,” “neither/nor,” “such/that,” etc.) join together two words or phrases of equal importance. For example: “Either I’m going to eat this sandwich, or I’m going to eat at home.” People use both types of conjunctions to start sentences, and nobody bats an eye. The controversy usually arises with a third type: coordinating conjunctions.
Coordinating conjunctions link together two independent clauses, and can best be remembered with the acronym FANBOYS: For, And, Nor, But, Or, Yet, and So.Reputable grammar guides, including the Chicago Manual of Style and the Merriam-Webster Dictionary of English Usage, say it’s acceptable to begin sentences with coordinating conjunctions. The main reason so many people are opposed to this idea is that using these conjunctions as an initial word too often can lead to bad writing habits. For instance, stringing together multiple sentences that start with a conjunction can sound like you’re talking like a 7-year-old: Today, I went to the park. And then I ate lunch. And I saw a dog. But the dog ran away. And then he ran back again. So I smiled. And my lunch fell on the ground.
As a general rule of thumb, it’s best to avoid beginning your sentences with conjunctions as you’re developing your writing skills. But as you’re honing your voice and writing style, it’s fine to experiment a bit, as evidenced by some of history’s most iconic prose. Consider Lord of the Rings author J.R.R. Tolkien, who once wrote, “Yet the Lord of Gondor is not to be made the tool of other men’s purposes, however worthy.” Or read S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders, which contains the line, “I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me.”
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
There are times when you might want to add a bit of extra oomph to your words to get your point across. Consider the opening line of the U.S. Constitution: “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfectUnion…”Grammatically, describing something as “more perfect” is impossible. “Perfect” is, by definition, perfect.
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Absolute adjectives are words such as “unique,” “perfect,” or “impossible” — these terms are unequivocal on their own, shouldn’t be compared or intensified, and don’t deal in any level of varying degrees. They differ from comparative adjectives (“smarter,” “faster,” “lesser,” etc.), which deal in degrees or levels, and superlative adjectives (“smartest,” “fastest,” “least,” etc.), which have an element of judgment. But despite the fact that absolute adjectives technically should stand on their own, without modification, many writers opt to modify them as a point of style.
Let’s examine this passage from Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows: “‘Toad Hall,’ said the Toad proudly, ‘is an eligible self-contained gentleman’s residence very unique; dating in part from the fourteenth century, but replete with every modern convenience.'”
Should we presume to correct Grahame’s classic tale? The word “very” in the selection above is unnecessary from a strictly grammatical perspective, but it still plays an important role. It adds to Mr. Toad’s quirky tone and gives the reader a feel for the character and his home. In this case, his house is not only one-of-a-kind, but also so interesting that it’s worth noting. Another instance where a writer might find it useful to modify an absolute adjective is with an adverb that implies completeness. For instance, you may call something “completely final” in an effort to add emphasis and hammer home your point — as this topic is totally complete.
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
English is full of sentences that sound awkward but are grammatically correct. Consider trying to untangle the mind-bending “Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.” (Hint: “Buffalo” has three distinct meanings and functions as a noun, proper noun, and verb in this riddle.) Then there are phrases that sound OK, but are actually grammatical errors. These mistakes are easier to catch when writing, and more difficult to recognize when someone is speaking (for example, “intensive purposes” vs. “intents and purposes”). One of the biggest culprits of the “easy to mishear” swap comes with contractions and prepositions; we’re saying one thing, but people are hearing another.
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Consider the contraction “could’ve.” “Could” implies both possibility and willingness. It often acts as a helper verb, which means it’s paired with a second verb to make the sentence clearer. For example, “I could go to the dance” implies a chance of attending the dance. But let’s imagine you missed that opportunity and you’re telling a friend about it. You might say, “I could of gone to the dance.” But wait — that’s only what it sounds like. The proper construction of the sentence is “I could’ve gone to the dance,” where “could’ve” is a contraction of “could” and “have.”
As already noted, “could” requires a second verb so that it can make grammatical sense. This is why we need “have” instead of “of” — the latter may sound similar, but it’s an incorrectly used preposition. The contraction “could’ve” sounds very similar to “could of,” and while it may be near impossible to discern between the two if you’re speaking, swapping them will make a big difference in writing.
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
We often say “once in a blue moon” to describe an event that happens infrequently, like a Detroit Lions championship or the McRib returning to the menu at McDonald’s. This usage dates back to the 16th century, when “the moon is blue” was used to describe an event that seemed impossible. In 1821, Pierce Egan used the idiom in his work Real Life in London, to describe how long it had been since two people had seen each other. This denoted a shift in the meaning of the phrase from “impossible” to “unlikely.” But why does a blue moon specifically carry this connotation? Why not a green or gold moon?
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In reference to the actual celestial body, people reported seeing a blue-colored moon after the eruption of Krakatoa in 1883. This hue was likely due to the sulfur dioxide and ash in the air changing the wavelengths of visible light, making the moon appear blue.
When it comes to the lunar cycles, there are usually 12 full moons in a year, but occasionally there are 13 — this is known as a “blue moon.” The concept of the 13th full moon was coined in the 1937 Maine Farmers’ Almanac. However, in 1946, amateur astronomer James Hugh Pruett misinterpreted that extant meaning. He wrote an article about “blue moons” as the second full moon in any given month. By this second definition, multiple blue moons can happen in a single year, though this occurs only once every 19 years. When it does happen, it usually takes place during January and March, as February’s unique 28-day (sometimes 29) length makes it more likely. Sometimes there will be no full moon in February at all, as the average duration between full moons is 29.5 days.
The two versions are similar lunar cycle concepts, but either way you track them, blue moons happen roughly once every 2.7 years. So while we may use “once in a blue moon” in an extremely vague sense, it actually refers to that specific period of time.
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
You’ve heard of acronyms, but are you familiar with backronyms? In this linguistic case of chicken-and-egg, the abbreviation is conceived before the phrase.
Government agencies love their acronyms — and backronyms, too. For instance, NASA once named a treadmill “COLBERT” after late-night television host Stephen Colbert. Before unveiling a new module for the International Space Station, the agency launched an online poll for the public to submit ideas for the module’s name. Instead of the expected space-y options, people went with their favorite comedian. While NASA ultimately named the module “Tranquility,” the agency still honored the public’s choice by naming the ISS treadmill the “COLBERT” — a backronym that stands for “Combined Operational Load Bearing External Resistance Treadmill.” A backronym is essentially a reverse-engineered acronym; it turns an existing word into an acronym by piecing together relevant words until their first letters correctly spell the desired abbreviation. The name “COLBERT” came before the treadmill’s full name, which was created with the final abbreviation in mind.
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The portmanteau of “backward” and “acronym” came about from a 1983 neologism (a newly coined word) contest in TheWashington Post. Nowadays, backronyms are found everywhere, especially in the entertainment industry. The title of the James Bond thriller Spectre is a backronym for “Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion.” The British English word “spectre” (or “specter” in American English) means “ghost” — an apt name for a covert organization tracking global supervillains.
One of the most enduring backronyms must be “SOS,” which, contrary to popular belief, is not an acronym for “Save Our Ship,” nor does it stand for “Save Our Souls.” In 1906, “SOS” (… — … in Morse code) was chosen as the standard distress signal in Morse code because of its simple and distinct set of dots and dashes. The popular backronyms were later invented as a creative way to explain the origin of the code.
Thanks to these backronym origin stories, it can be tricky to differentiate an imaginative creation from a genuine acronym. While no one will fault you for misidentifying backronyms, discovering their true identity can include some interesting stories.
Rachel is a Washington, D.C.-based freelance writer. When she's not writing, you can find her wandering through a museum, exploring a new city, or advocating the importance of the Oxford comma.
My 4-year-old niece has a favorite blanket that she can’t sleep without. When I asked her if it had a name, she said something that sounded like “zhuzh.” Her parents helped translate: “It’s spelled with three ‘Zs.’”
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My niece has already learned enough of the English language to pick up on the relationship between sleep and the letter “Z,” but where did this link come from? We could chalk it up to simple onomatopoeia, but I know when I snore, it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet as it did when my niece tried to pronounce “zzz.”
Other languages have their own onomatopoetic ways to depict snoring, including “rrrrrr” in Spanish and “xppp” in Russian. But the three “Zs” are globally recognized, thanks to the popularity of American comics. The first instance of “zzz” being used as shorthand for sleep has been traced to the 1903 comic strip “Katzenjammer Kids,” which portrayed a man snoozing in a hammock. Figuring out how to depict sleep in comic strips and comic books is a tricky task. Sometimes sleep has been depicted as “grrk,” “honk-shoo,” “ZZRRGGHH,” or just “snore.” Or the illustrator has taken artistic license by adding a little drawing of a saw and a log to imply the rhythmic rumble of the idiom “sawing logs.” In time, that phrase evolved with technology into “snoring like a chainsaw.”
But the “Zs” won out. In the 1940s, the verb “zonk,” meaning “fall or cause to fall suddenly and heavily asleep or lose consciousness” entered the lexicon, and in the 1980s, cartoonist Jim Davis used one big “Z” to demonstrate sleep in the “Garfield” comics.
As for how to pronounce “zzz,” it’s usually not meant to be pronounced out loud, although in the 1960s, the phrase “get some Zs” became common slang, and now the British have adopted the word “zizz” to mean “nap.” Whether said as “zhuzh,” like my niece does, or written “zzz” in the funny pages, we could likely all use a few more hours of sleep.
Samantha Abernethy is a freelancer in Chicago. When she isn't staring at a laptop, you can find her sniffing out the best coffee with her greyhound Ruby, or chasing her kids around the nearest library.
Author Tom Wolfe coined the term “The ‘Me’ Decade” to define the 1970s, and these are some of the slang words and terms that came out of these wild, free-spirited, and tumultuous years.
The 1970s were a time of social activism, political upheaval, and a continuation of the counterculture revolution of the 1960s, and the slang that came out of this decade was a reflection of these changes. Author Tom Wolfe coined the term “The ‘Me’ Decade” to define the era. He described an “unprecedented post-World War II American development: the luxury, enjoyed by so many millions of middling folk, of dwelling upon the self.” Along with the self-development trends coming out of these wild, free-spirited, and tumultuous years came a set of slang words and terms to talk about the new ways of thinking. Let’s examine more of the language of the 1970s.
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Book (As a Verb)
While very commonly recognized as a noun for bound reading material, “book” can also be used as a verb, as in “book a reservation.” However, in the 1970s, using “book” as a verb meant you needed to “move quickly” or “leave abruptly.” The first usage of this definition was in Skateboarder magazine in 1977. The use of “book” in a legal context, to mean “apprehend or arrest,” dates to the 18th century, but the television show Hawaii Five-O (which aired from 1968 to 1980) popularized what would become one of the most memorable catchphrases of the decade: “Book ’em, Danno!”
“Oh man, it’s late. I gotta book!”
10-4
This radio code, meaning “message received,” was introduced into everyday conversation — no radio necessary — through a popular song and a string of trucker films, including Smokey and the Bandit (1977), Every Which Way but Loose (1978), and Convoy (1978). The last film, starring Kris Kristofferson, was inspired by the 1975 country song “Convoy” by C.W. McCall. This song, which included a simulated conversation using CB radio slang, went to No. 1 on both the country and pop charts and holds the 106th spot onRolling Stone magazine’s 200 Greatest Country Songs of All Time.
“Let’s meet up after work on Friday.”
“10-4, see you then.”
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Keep On Truckin’
“Keep on truckin’” — meaning “to persevere” — became a trendy hippie slogan in the 1970s. The encouraging idiom was borrowed from R. Crumb’s comic strip of the same name, which in turn borrowed the line from “Truckin’ My Blues Away,” a 1936 blues song by Blind Boy Fuller. While “keep on truckin’” isn’t as ubiquitous as it once was, another popular 1970s idiom with a similarly uplifting meaning still endures: “Hang in there!”
“He’s had a lot of setbacks in his career, but he keeps on truckin’.”
Go Bananas
The idiom “go bananas,” meaning “go crazy, mad, wild (with excitement, anger, frustration, etc.),” became popular on college campuses and entered mainstream pop culture at the beginning of the decade.
“I’m going to go bananas if I don’t get a break soon!”
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Hardball
If someone wants to play hardball, they’re not talking about playing a game. “Playing hardball” is slang for behaving in a “ruthless, uncompromising manner.” It was coined in the mid-1970s and is most often heard in relation to business or politics.
“I told him I wanted a raise, but he decided to play hardball.”
Primo
If something is primo, it’s the very best. “Primo” comes from the Italian primo, meaning “first, principal,” and the Spanish primo, meaning “first-rate, fine.” Coined in 1970, “primo” was used as slang throughout the decade to refer to the high quality of a drug, especially marijuana. It then evolved into a way of describing anything that was first-rate or excellent.
“Her new Mustang is a primo ride.”
Featured image credit: Anton Vierietin/ Shutterstock
Jennifer A. Freeman is the Senior Editor of Word Smarts and Word Daily. When she's not searching for a perfect synonym or reaching "Genius" level on Spelling Bee, she's playing with her Welsh Terrier in Greenville, SC.
Strengthen Your Vocabulary By Cutting These Redundant Terms
It’s time to cut redundant and overused phrases from your vocabulary. (See the redundancy?) You’ll be making cuts throughout after this quick explainer.
“Redundant,” “overused,” “clunky” — if any of these adjectives can be applied to your speech or writing, it’s time to clean up your vocabulary. We’re not talking about putting a dollar in the swear jar. Excising redundant, overused, and clichéd phrases from your speech will make you sound more polished, and save time and space in your writing. And while it may not be blatantly obvious (can you see why that two-word phrase is redundant?)that these terms need to go, you’ll be making cuts throughout your vocabulary after this quick explainer.
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Added Bonus
“Added” does not need to be used with the word “bonus,” as in, “As an added bonus, we’ll throw in airfare for free.” This phrase is redundant — by definition, a bonus is “something in addition to what is expected.” The correct usage would be, “As a bonus, we’ll throw in airfare for free.”
Blatantly Obvious
These paired words mean the same thing. “Blatant” means “in an open and unashamed manner,” and “obvious” means “easily perceived or understood; clear, self-evident, or apparent.” There is no need to use both at the same time — “obvious” is obvious enough.
Close Proximity
This faux pas likely stems from a misunderstanding of the word “proximity,” which means “nearness in space, time, or relationship.” A sentence such as, “The store was in close proximity to her apartment,” is therefore redundant and can be shortened to, “The store was in proximity to her apartment.”
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Each and Every
While commonly used in casual speech, this phrase is best kept out of formal writing because of its redundancy. “Each” means “every one of two or more people or things,” and “every” refers to “all individual members of a set without exception.” Using both words isn’t necessary.
Exact Same
“Exact same” means the exact same thing; there is no need to use both words. “Exact” means “not approximated in any way; precise,” and “same” means “identical; not different.”
Few in Number
Instead of saying, “The volunteers were few in number,” save yourself a few words and say, “The volunteers were few.” It means the same thing, because “few” means “a small number of.”
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Final Outcome
By definition, “outcome” is “the way a thing turns out” or a “consequence,” implying it is the end. This means that “final” is redundant and can be eliminated.
In Order To
“He began reading more in order to improve his vocabulary,” can be easily cleaned up. “In order” is usually unnecessary, so the sentence can be shortened to: “He began reading more to improve his vocabulary.” Now it’s straight to the point.
Just
A good rule of thumb for crutch words (also called “filler” words) is to take them out of the sentence and see if it still makes sense. If it does, you can remove them. For example, “She just didn’t listen to the instructions,” means the same thing as “She didn’t listen to the instructions.” Sometimes, “just” is needed for emphasis, but typically, it’s not.
Point in Time
Sometimes extra words are a cushion, or a way of hedging a statement if you’re not confident. “At this point in time, we believe our results are accurate.” This phrase can often be removed altogether, as in, “We believe our results are accurate,” or at the very least, replaced with “now,” as in, “We now believe our results are accurate.” Along with making a cut to the writing, you’ve also added a layer of confidence to the statement.
Protest Against
“Protest” means “to express an objection” to something, making the word “against” redundant. Instead of saying, “The group protested against animal testing,” you can say simply, “The group protested animal testing.”
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That
Sometimes, “that” is needed for clarification, but if a sentence still makes sense without it, you can omit it. For example, “This is the best book that I’ve ever read,” can be shortened to, “This is the best book I’ve ever read.”
Really/Very
While they are called “intensifiers,” these words often make your sentences sound weaker. “She was very/really excited to work at the new firm,” can easily be shortened to, “She was excited to work at the new firm.” Even better, replace both the intensifier and the verb (“excited”) with a stronger verb: “She was delighted to work at the new firm.”
Featured image credit: Leigh Prather/ Shutterstock
Rachel is a Washington, D.C.-based freelance writer. When she's not writing, you can find her wandering through a museum, exploring a new city, or advocating the importance of the Oxford comma.
Perhaps you’re not fluent in Spanish or Japanese, but even if English is the only language you speak, you’re using influences from all over the globe. The everyday words that English speakers use in daily conversation often have origin stories that cross borders and cultures. Here, we explore the etymology of some common words and reveal connections to different languages and traditions.
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Alcohol
The most common English association for “alcohol” is with intoxicating drinks, but its Arabic origin is in a cosmetic substance. The Arabic word al-kuhul originally described a fine metallic powder used to darken the eyelids (later known as “kohl”). In Arabic, kahala means “to stain, paint,” and al is “the.” By the 16th century, alcohol was in Medieval Latin, still referring to a powdered metallic substance. In alchemical experiments, the term evolved to describe a volatile liquid, then a pure spirit. By the mid-17th century, the word alcool made its way into French, and this is what turned into “alcohol” to refer to a beverage. The word retains several variations of chemical definitions from the medieval alchemical experiments, but people outside of a chemistry lab most commonly think of it as an intoxicating beverage.
Avatar
Originating from Sanskrit, “avatar” means “an embodiment or manifestation of a person or idea.” In Hinduism, it refers to the descent of a Hindu deity to Earth in incarnate or tangible form. “Avatar” combines the Sanskrit ava (“off, down”) and tarati (“crosses over”). The most modern usage of “avatar” is in video games and online forums, where an avatar is the icon or figure a person uses to represent themself online.
Ballet
In English, ballet is an elegant dance form performed with specific graceful movements and steps. However, the origins of “ballet dancer” show that term is a bit redundant. The Latin word ballare means “to dance,” and while the dance form of ballet originated in France, the word came from the Italian balletto, a diminutive of ballo, which simply means “a dance.” The specific form of dance we call “ballet” got its start in 17th-century France, but at that time, the word could have meant any kind of dance.
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Broccoli
This healthy green vegetable gets its name from Italian, originating from broccolo, meaning “cabbage sprout.” Many similar vegetables are in the Brassica oleracea family (cauliflower, kale, Brussels sprouts, kohlrabi), but broccoli is the Italica varietal of the family.
Chocolate
Most people love a sweet chocolate treat, but the word “chocolate” has had a complex journey. There are different legends about how Mesoamerican societies were given the cacao tree, but the words “chocolate” and “cacao” come from the Nahuatl language wordsxocoatl and cacahoatl, respectively. Xocoatl was a bitter and spicy drink mixture made from cacao beans. The Aztec, Olmec, and Maya civilizations are believed to have enjoyed this beverage long before Spaniards took it to Europe around 1520. Modern chocolate, tempered and sweetened with milk and sugar, is far from the original forms of xocoatl and cacahoatl, but the name preserves a tie to the Mesoamerican roots.
Coffee
It’s a beverage enjoyed globally, but “coffee” has roots in the Arabic qahwah, which etymologists have linked to a word meaning “wine.” Alternatively, it might be from the Kaffa region of Ethiopia, the home of the coffee plant. However, this would still come back to Arabic, as coffee in Kaffa is called būno, which was pulled into Arabic as the word bunn, meaning “raw coffee.”
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Hamburger
Hamburgers are almost as American as apple pie, but the term “Hamburger” originally referred to a native of Hamburg, Germany. The food’s connection to the German city is uncertain, but it may be linked to Hamburg’s role as a significant port for German immigrants to the United States.
Kindergarten
Widely used in the American education system for the introduction to school before first grade, “kindergarten” traces its roots to the German term Kinder-Garten, which means “children’s garden.” It was coined by German educator Friedrich Fröbel as a symbol of nurturing children’s growth in the way a gardener might care for their beloved flowers.
Noodle
This word was most likely borrowed from the German noun Nudel (meaning “noodle”), but some linguists believe it may be linked to the Latin minutulus, meaning “tiny” or “very small.” Another theory suggests a connection to the German word Knödel, meaning “dumpling.”
Pajamas
In the 1800s, Muslims in India wore loose trousers tied at the waist, and Europeans adopted these pah jamahs for their sleepwear. The word likely comes from the Persian word paejamah, which translated literally as “leg clothing.” Europeans brought the style back to their continent and it spread across the world. Americans spell the word “pajamas,” but the British are more likely to spell it “pyjamas.”
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Tornado
“Tornado,” which refers to a destructive force of nature in the form of a cyclone-shaped windstorm, comes from the Spanish word for “thunderstorm,” tronada. In the mid-16th century, a tornado was a thunderstorm, specifically a violent storm on the tropical Atlantic Ocean. English-speaking sailors likely created “tornado” from Spanish-speaking sailors referring to tronar, or “thunder.”
Vanilla
The sweet taste that flavors baked goods and ice cream comes from vanilla pods, which are the fruit of a particular orchid plant. In Spanish, vainilla is “pod,” the diminutive of vaina, or “sheath.” Around the mid-17th century, when new spices and flavorings were being introduced to Europe from the Asian continent and the Americas, the word “vanilla” and the phrase “vanilla pod” (somewhat redundant considering the origin) was adopted into English from Spanish.
Featured image credit: Kateryna Hliznitsova/ Unsplash+
Lisa Galek is a freelance writer and editor based in Cleveland, Ohio. Her writing has appeared in Business Insider, Apartment Therapy, Scholastic Science World, and on, literally, thousands of American Greetings cards. The only thing she loves more than an Oxford comma — or an em dash — is her husband and three charming children.
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