Languages in the Big Apple

It’s a time-worn question: Who owns a word?

In trying to answer, I’ve come to recognize myself as a huge hypocrite. In this post, I’ll cover the pro-appropriation argument; in the next, I’ll show the flip-side.

So, who owns a word? My initial response is anybody and everybody. This can often mean trouble. Examples:

• Problem: Freddy gets mad when his friends joke about being “alcoholics” because his father’s alcoholism destroyed the family.
• My take: I think it’s funny to call anyone who drinks too much an alcoholic. And usually when you joke about people being alcoholics, it turns out they actually kind of are…

• Problem: Lilah doesn’t like it when “anorexic” is used to describe people who aren’t because she was hospitalized for the eating disorder.
• My take: Skinny people should be ridiculed as much as they are envied; I say calling them anorexic — or “ana” — is just dandy. Also, real anorexics are neurotic and annoying. We should make fun of them more often.

• Problem: Lisa has two siblings with Down Syndrome; she feels hurt and angry when people use the word “retarded”.
• My take: I’m a little torn here. I realize its offensive nature, and it pains my heart to think about it, but sometimes I let it slip. I can’t help it!

How very post-p.c. But is that really a problem? In the end, a word is just a word. Right? As any third-wave feminist will tell you, a derogatory term loses its power when it becomes the property of the people it’s meant to subjugate.

We all know the story — African-Americans have taken back n*gger, gays have nabbed fag and dyke, and feminists have stolen bitch, c*nt, whore, etc.

Language-mutilation in the form of appropriation — it’s a theory to which I like to subscribe. It’s both empowering, and, well, convenient.