Friday, February 1, 2008
Ten-Cent Words and the Yogis Who Use Them
Despite being a former card-carrying member of the grammar police, I'm usually not too hung up on the usage of ten-cent words--unless I hear them used in a way that indicates that the person using them is trying to lord it over someone or to be a big show-off.
This, to me, is an acceptable example of the use of a ten-cent word: My once-friend Sue once told me a story about telling her biker boyfriend about the "synbiotic" relationship between a rock and a plant. He was naturally impressed at how smart she was. Sue of course meant "symbiotic" (the pronunciation error is forgivable, given that "syn-" and "sym-" are merely variant spellings)--but she was mistaken because symbiotic relationships only occur between two living things, a little fact that sadly disqualifies the rock from participating in a symbiotic relationship. Sue wasn't trying to show off, she was only trying to impart a little knowledge about the planet we live on. That's perfectly acceptable.
This, to me, is an unacceptable use of a ten-cent word: I used to work with a woman named Kano who was super, super annoying. She would never be caught dead in anything but Dior (or Dior knockoffs that she was trying to pass off as Dior) and she was forty-five going on fifteen--a squealing, bubble-headed forty-five-year-old teenage girl. She was also one of the Japanese English teachers and she delighted in trying to pass herself off as a huge English vocabulary know-it-all. One day, she said to me of a teacher who had left her teaching materials scattered across our shared workspace: "Ai's materials are ubiquitous." She said this then she looked at me expectantly, waiting for a pat on the head for using the word "ubiquitous." I just gave her a slight smile and left the room so that I wouldn't end up correcting her use of the word. I mean, what the fuck did I care if she misused some English word?
"Ubiquitous" is a bit of a weaselly word, I'll admit. It describes something that is found in many different places, yes, but it also carries the quality of one thing found in many different places. Ai's things couldn't be ubiquitous then because Ai's things were varied and found, really, only in one place. (If you're looking for a textbook example of "ubiquitous" you might try the ubiquitous Japanese vending machine.) Mostly Kano's misuse made me cringe because she was trying so hard to be a big, phony show-off.
But is the following an acceptable or unacceptable use of a ten-cent word?
During last Saturday's yoga class, our teacher kept using the word "equipoise" in sentences like, "We are trying to find equipoise in our poses." She also often mispronounced it "equi-pose," when it is pronounced as it looks, as "equi" and "poise" said together real quick. (It's a word that feels awkward in the mouth, sure, that "kwih" followed by the "poiz." Must be French, huh? The pronunciation of French makes me want to swallow my own tongue. Just thinking about it makes my spine want to curl up.)
As far as the definition is concerned, I'll admit that just by looking at the word, anyone without a dictionary would be tempted to say that equipoise suggests some balanced pose or an equanimity related to the cultivation of physical poise, all of which would be desirable traits amongst aspirant yogis. But equipoise doesn't mean "equal or balanced pose." It doesn't even mean "equal or balanced poise." It doesn't imply equanimity. Equipoise means "balanced forces or interests," and it is often employed in financial or political writing to indicate very large and influential forces that seem to somehow take on a life of their own in their interactions. My dictionary uses the following phrase as an example: "capital flows act as an equipoise to international imbalances in savings." Hardly yoga-like, wouldn't you say?
I cringed every time my yoga teacher misused and mispronounced "equipoise," but was it a violation of the ten-cent word law? Certainly, I got the feeling that she was earnestly trying to impart some knowledge to us, in which case there is no violation. But because she is my teacher--not some innocent bystander, but someone I pay to know more than I do--I expect her to be able to communicate effectively or to admit when she is unsure of her knowledge. (I'd rather have a teacher who can say, "I don't know," than someone who tries to bluff their way through their own ignorance.) But as far as her vocabulary violation is concerned, she isn't my English teacher, she's my yoga teacher. Can I really expect more from her than, say, a general knowledge of yoga and some greater flexibility of form than I have? It's hard to say. So, was it a violation?
I'm willing to give her a pass this time, I guess. But next time my yoga practice intersects with a ten-cent word, I'm rolling up my yoga mat and going home.
This, to me, is an acceptable example of the use of a ten-cent word: My once-friend Sue once told me a story about telling her biker boyfriend about the "synbiotic" relationship between a rock and a plant. He was naturally impressed at how smart she was. Sue of course meant "symbiotic" (the pronunciation error is forgivable, given that "syn-" and "sym-" are merely variant spellings)--but she was mistaken because symbiotic relationships only occur between two living things, a little fact that sadly disqualifies the rock from participating in a symbiotic relationship. Sue wasn't trying to show off, she was only trying to impart a little knowledge about the planet we live on. That's perfectly acceptable.
This, to me, is an unacceptable use of a ten-cent word: I used to work with a woman named Kano who was super, super annoying. She would never be caught dead in anything but Dior (or Dior knockoffs that she was trying to pass off as Dior) and she was forty-five going on fifteen--a squealing, bubble-headed forty-five-year-old teenage girl. She was also one of the Japanese English teachers and she delighted in trying to pass herself off as a huge English vocabulary know-it-all. One day, she said to me of a teacher who had left her teaching materials scattered across our shared workspace: "Ai's materials are ubiquitous." She said this then she looked at me expectantly, waiting for a pat on the head for using the word "ubiquitous." I just gave her a slight smile and left the room so that I wouldn't end up correcting her use of the word. I mean, what the fuck did I care if she misused some English word?
"Ubiquitous" is a bit of a weaselly word, I'll admit. It describes something that is found in many different places, yes, but it also carries the quality of one thing found in many different places. Ai's things couldn't be ubiquitous then because Ai's things were varied and found, really, only in one place. (If you're looking for a textbook example of "ubiquitous" you might try the ubiquitous Japanese vending machine.) Mostly Kano's misuse made me cringe because she was trying so hard to be a big, phony show-off.
But is the following an acceptable or unacceptable use of a ten-cent word?
During last Saturday's yoga class, our teacher kept using the word "equipoise" in sentences like, "We are trying to find equipoise in our poses." She also often mispronounced it "equi-pose," when it is pronounced as it looks, as "equi" and "poise" said together real quick. (It's a word that feels awkward in the mouth, sure, that "kwih" followed by the "poiz." Must be French, huh? The pronunciation of French makes me want to swallow my own tongue. Just thinking about it makes my spine want to curl up.)
As far as the definition is concerned, I'll admit that just by looking at the word, anyone without a dictionary would be tempted to say that equipoise suggests some balanced pose or an equanimity related to the cultivation of physical poise, all of which would be desirable traits amongst aspirant yogis. But equipoise doesn't mean "equal or balanced pose." It doesn't even mean "equal or balanced poise." It doesn't imply equanimity. Equipoise means "balanced forces or interests," and it is often employed in financial or political writing to indicate very large and influential forces that seem to somehow take on a life of their own in their interactions. My dictionary uses the following phrase as an example: "capital flows act as an equipoise to international imbalances in savings." Hardly yoga-like, wouldn't you say?
I cringed every time my yoga teacher misused and mispronounced "equipoise," but was it a violation of the ten-cent word law? Certainly, I got the feeling that she was earnestly trying to impart some knowledge to us, in which case there is no violation. But because she is my teacher--not some innocent bystander, but someone I pay to know more than I do--I expect her to be able to communicate effectively or to admit when she is unsure of her knowledge. (I'd rather have a teacher who can say, "I don't know," than someone who tries to bluff their way through their own ignorance.) But as far as her vocabulary violation is concerned, she isn't my English teacher, she's my yoga teacher. Can I really expect more from her than, say, a general knowledge of yoga and some greater flexibility of form than I have? It's hard to say. So, was it a violation?
I'm willing to give her a pass this time, I guess. But next time my yoga practice intersects with a ten-cent word, I'm rolling up my yoga mat and going home.
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