Words in the Wild
Capturing rare words & how to actually remember them.
Last week, one of the fifth graders that I work with emphatically announced how much she HATES vocabulary tests. (She also frequently declares, “GET ME OUT OF THIS TORTURE CHAMBER,” which I really hope is about school generally and not our specific literacy sessions. I’ve asked a few times and she has reassured me that it’s the former, but I can never be too sure.)
In response to her vocabulary-related complaint, I replied that even as an adult, I’m still learning new vocabulary words all the time. Sorry, kiddo, there’s no escape.
As we encounter new words in the world around us, it isn’t always true that they’ll immediately become part of our vocabulary. Most of the time, new words pass us by without much thought, even if we aren’t 100% sure of their meaning in the moment. If new vocabulary words were Pokémon, most of us would be wildly inefficient and low-ranking Pokémon trainers.
Interestingly, this can also be true in the language classroom. It is estimated that it takes about 8-10 exposures to a new word for learners to pick it up incidentally — that is, without being explicitly taught the word’s meaning.1
Luckily for us, there are a few methods that we can use to make new words stick. One idea that addresses this is Craik and Lockhard’s (1972) concept called depth of processing. They posit that one of the biggest factors for learning new lexical items (and making them enter your long-term memory) is actually the richness with which the material is encoded, or the depth by which it was initially processed.
This is not to say that the flashcard repetition method for learning new words is without merit. But even for myself personally, words that carry stronger associations beyond just their form or meaning have definitely buried themselves more deeply in my mind.
Processing something “deeply” can take on a few different forms. Maybe it’s taking the time to look up the word in a dictionary and read a few of the example sentences. It could mean spending 10 extra seconds analyzing the word’s context to figure out the meaning on your own. Or maybe it’s Googling the word’s etymology to make sense of how it’s constructed.
That being said, this process doesn’t need to be strictly intellectual, either. Sometimes learning a word more deeply means associating the word with a funny story or unique context. (I internalized the meaning of the word “augment” in 9th grade solely because of a classmate’s lengthy story about a caveman named Oggy who grows bigger over time. I have never forgotten Oggy to this day.)
To illustrate this concept, today’s newsletter will be a roundup of some of the rare words that I’ve recently encountered in the wild, and exactly why & how they have stuck in my mind.
A word that made me laugh: Platykurtic
I was sitting in my Second Language Assessment class when three rare words suddenly appeared on the screen in front of me.
I remember when I first encountered the word “kurtosis” in a research methods course and immediately guffawed at this funny sounding word that I had never seen before. But these three variants made me physically laugh out loud.
The professor proceeded to explain the terms while I let out various assorted noises. “Mesokurtic” was met with a calm silence. Sounds like an acceptable word to me! “Leptokurtic” got a little snort. What does the prefix “lepto-” mean? Sounds like some kind of glandular disease or something. “We’re diagnosing him with leptokursis. It’s incurable.”
But when the professor said the word “platykurtic” I let out some sound in between a sputter, giggle, and “whuAAT?” All my brain could think was “PLATYPUS, PLATYPUS, PLATYPUS.” Because what other words do we use that start with “platy-”? None that I can think of. (Comment below if you can think of one, please!)
I Googled “platy prefix” to get some insight and found that “platy-” means “flat.” Flat like the platykurtic curve, and flat like the majestic platypus. I thoroughly enjoyed learning this rare word and also having the rare opportunity to think about platypi in general.
A word that made me wonder: Luddite
This month I went back home to visit my family in Arizona. At one point, I accompanied my dad on a trip to check out a local model train show, as model railroading is one of his lifelong niche hobbies. (Me: “What do you guys call each other? Model train enthusiasts? Railroadheads?” Dad: “The first one is fine. Definitely not the second one.”)
While at the show, my dad and I chatted with his former colleague and fellow railroadhead model train enthusiast, Bob. I can’t recall the specific context for this comment, but at one point in our conversation, Bob said something to the effect of: “I’m too much of a luddite for that.”
As my dad and I kept walking, I mentioned how it felt rare to hear someone use the word “luddite” in a casual conversation. This led to us discuss the question: where did the word “luddite” come from, anyway? Followers of someone named Ludd who had a passionate and infectious distaste for new technology?
A quick search online revealed the answer. Luddites were a very real group of English mechanics who dedicated themselves to smashing manufacturing machinery from about 1811-1816. They were inspired by the not-especially-real Captain/King Ludd, a legendary figure who was also known for his passionate machine smashing. The term eventually expanded to encompass anti-technology people in general, especially in the context of labor.
“Catching” the word luddite in the wild — and sealing it deep into my mind — ultimately was supported by two events: the use of the word in an unexpected setting by charming passenger train car aficionado Bob, and the word’s intriguing and radical history.
A word that nearly passed me by: Promethean
In an effort to not scroll brainlessly on social media while riding the subway, my phone front page contains three helpful apps: Libby (which borrows e-books from my local library), Substack (yay!), and The New York Times. One day, I saw this article title, and almost skipped over it — when something made me pause.
Of course, it’s hard to recall exactly how my brain rapidly and wordlessly processed this headline, but it probably went something like this: “Our New Promethean Moment. Promethean? Probably ‘Important.’ Ok cool.”
But the word’s clear derivation from the Greek mythological figure Prometheus made me think a little more about what the word really meant. Because what do I remember about Prometheus? Not a whole lot. There are probably only two things that come to mind: he stole fire and gave it to the humans (thanks!), and then got chained to a rock where an…. eagle? falcon?… eats his… liver? pancreas?… Something to that effect.
So, with these two data points, what do I know about Prometheus?
1) He stole something but it was nice and helpful for humans —> “Promethean Moment” = A moment that’s mostly good but comes from having done something bad?
2) He is being eternally and horribly punished —> “Promethean Moment” = Doing a good thing but getting punished for it?
None of these seemed especially helpful and a little too convoluted for me to interpret the article title. I couldn’t think of ONE defining trait or characteristic that could quickly be referenced when talking about Prometheus. So what exactly about him was I missing?
In this case, another Google search held the answer.
Promethean (ADJ): relating to or characteristic of the demigod Prometheus…
(Darn it. Never mind.)
…especially in being rebelliously creative and innovative.
Aha! While the fire stealing + brutal punishment story wasn’t too helpful for me at first in understanding what the word meant, now I had a different perspective on what Prometheus did: it wasn’t just a helpful thing that he did to give humans a nicer life, it was something that marked him as a creative and innovative rebel.
The author went on to explain exactly what he meant by a “Promethean moment” (with use of “promethean” bolded by me — it seems that he uses this word to characterize a distinct and revolutionary turning point in history.)
“This is a Promethean moment we’ve entered — one of those moments in history when certain new tools, ways of thinking or energy sources are introduced that are such a departure and advance on what existed before that you can’t just change one thing, you have to change everything…
We know the key Promethean eras of the last 600 years: the invention of the printing press, the scientific revolution, the agricultural revolution combined with the industrial revolution, the nuclear power revolution, personal computing and the internet and … now this moment.
Only this Promethean moment is not driven by a single invention, like a printing press or a steam engine, but rather by a technology super-cycle. It is our ability to sense, digitize, process, learn, share and act, all increasingly with the help of A.I.”
In total, the article contains 5 uses of the word, with lots of explanation and description on what exactly a “Promethean moment” is. This is actually a pretty helpful model for implicitly introducing a new vocabulary word. Good number of the words being used in context, good explication, and all encompassed by an intriguing concept for the reader to grapple with (the role of A.I. in modern society). Nice job, article writer!
Thanks for reading!
What vocabulary words have you “caught” in the wild, either rare or new? How have new vocabulary words made their way into your long-term memory?
See you next Tuesday!
Schmitt (2008) - Review article: Instructed second language vocabulary learning
"Ineffable". For years I kind of sort of had a sense of what it meant. Then one day I took the radical step of looking it up in a dictionary.