I like words. I like to say them, read them, write them. Some words inspire me and come with a multitude of positive connotations; magical, constructive, optimistic. Others trigger unpleasant memories or conjure up a bad smell or sound like nails on a chalkboard; hollandaise, moist, cancer.
Either way, words are powerful.
The old saying “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” is the single most misleading statement ever made. Ever. Words can, and do, hurt. But they can also heal.
There have been a lot of words thrown around this year that are depressing and hurtful. As I write this, the election is still up in the air, looming overhead as we try to live our best lives. I don’t typically write about politics and this column will not steer me off my non-political course, but it’s worth mentioning that the words said to friends and family – and even strangers – right now will have an impact. Choose wisely.
Two overused words of 2020 are both words that I previously enjoyed: Unprecedented and pivot.
Unprecedented is very powerful. It commands attention. You know something is important when it is described as unprecedented. It also feels good to say out loud. But this year, well, everything is unprecedented. For me, this word has lost its umph, its chutzpah, its intensity.
And then we have pivot. This word could be the “poster child” for 2020. I have mainly heard it used in association with reopening plans. Basically, since COVID is a constantly changing disease, so we are told, we all need to “pivot” when positive cases increase. Like now, when several local school districts have pivoted from hybrid to fully remote learning, and then will “pivot” back to hybrid when cases decrease.
For my fellow Gen-Xers, the word pivot evokes one thing: Ross Geller. For those not in the know, Ross is a character from the show “Friends.” In one well-known episode, Ross and his friends Chandler and Rachel try to get Ross’s new couch up a narrow New York City apartment stairwell. Ross becomes increasingly agitated (another great word) as their attempts fail. Ross, in his Ross-like way, begins yelling “Pivot!” at Chandler and Rachel in the hopes that somehow, they can pivot the couch at the perfect angle to get up the stairs.
I kind of feel like pivot is being used in 2020 much the same way as Ross uses it – to try to move something big and bulky and fit it into a known space that can’t accommodate it. In the episode of ‘Friends,” Ross tries cutting the couch and then attempts to return it to the store. He eventually settles on a $4 store credit. Since that episode aired, mathematicians have noted that Ross wasn’t wrong in his command to pivot, but what he forgot was to tilt.
Perhaps we just need to tilt 2020 to make this all work. Who knows? After all, it’s unprecedented.
