Cairo Association of Teachers - Newsletter

CAT Tracks for July 23, 2006 WHASSUP, DAWG?

From The Arizona Republic...

Students' 'tight' terms 'aiight' with principal

Karina Bland
The Arizona Republic

Principal Linda Marlar doesn't take offense when students at Mountain Sky Junior High call her "dawg," though she won't tolerate students "dawging" each other.

"Ms. Marlar, you my dawg," means the kid likes her, that he considers her a friend. But "dawging" a kid about his clothes or his mama can only lead to trouble.

Marlar is hip to the lingo of today's young teenagers. She has to be, with 925 students at her north Phoenix school and a 14-year-old daughter of her own, or she wouldn't understand much of what's being said around her.

"It's like they're speaking another language," Marlar said.

Every generation has had its own slang, and wise teachers have kept up with the ever-changing vernacular of the youth they teach, so they can be aware of what's happening in their classrooms and ensure that the little darlings aren't dawging them.

Marlar talks with teachers often about issues involving slang and what's acceptable and what's not, not only in classroom discussions but also in writing assignments.

"Wack" is not an acceptable word for "weird" or "inappropriate" in an essay, especially on the state's annual exams. Compliment a student on her "slammin' new kicks," or shoes.

But Marlar cautions teachers not to overreact if kids use the word "pimp" as a verb, as in "pimp my backpack," because they're not referring to prostitution but accessorizing. The term was made popular by MTV's Pimp My Ride.

She's planning a training session on slang for teachers when school starts again Aug. 14.

"I school 'em; I learn them well," Marlar said.

Tony Murphy, the school's student services specialist, laughs at her totally hip language. Educators learn the lingo and sometimes use it among themselves to be funny, but few brave the possible public humiliation that would come with a failed attempt to use slang correctly in front of any kids.

"Don't be clownin' me, Tony," Marlar said, looking at him sideways. ("Clowning" is teasing.)

The slang kids use comes from a variety of sources, mostly television, movies and music. Their slang is most influenced by the African-American vernacular, crossing racial and socioeconomic lines, as evidenced by kids of all ethnicities, hollerin' "Wassup, dawg?" across campus.

Many slang terms are derogatory or refer to sex, alcohol and drugs. They aren't fit for print in the newspaper. But many of the terms are innocent enough, like "aiight" as a contraction for "all right" and "chill" for "calm down" or "relax."

"We say 'chill' a lot," said Emily Haydukovich, 14, a graduate of Mountain Sky and now a freshman at Thunderbird High in Phoenix.

Emily and two friends are hanging out at the library at Mountain Sky. The girls say "snap!" all the time, says Abby McNeely, 14, who's also a freshman at Thunderbird. Twelve-year-old Allison Dumas, a seventh-grader, explains: "That's like 'darn.' "

A cute guy is still "hot," Allison says. And "tight" means someone or something is "cool," Abby says. "Cool" is still, well, "cool" and has been for generations.

"Awesome" is out, the girls say - too overused. Try "tight" instead.

Many young teenagers who use the racier slang may not always know what the words mean, Marlar says. For example, "hit it" or "hook up" mean having sex, though if a 12-year-old is using it, he could also just mean hanging out with friends.

By the way, "hanging" is just being with friends, though it can also mean "banging," which means having sex. "Macking," or making out, is against school rules, Marlar points out. A particularly popular boy is a "mack daddy."

A new one for Marlar is "emo." They're the boys on her campus who wear tight jeans and eyeliner, called "guy-liner." They paint their fingernails black or color them with markers.

They're not gay but in touch with their emotional side - thus, "emo." Marlar says, "My girls swarm over these boys."

Emily's mother, Susan, teaches physical education at Mountain Sky. She's hip to the lingo. And when her students realize that she understands what they're saying, they tell her, "Mrs. Hay, you're cool!"

Emily says she thinks it's cool, too, that her mom knows slang. Laughing, her mother interrupts: "Em, you would be mortified if I talked like that."

"Well, yeah - in front of my friends!" Emily says. She likes that her mom understands the slang; no one wants to hear a parent, even if she is a teacher, actually using it.

Teenagers use slang to stand out, yet still be like other kids their age. The words they use that are foreign to their teachers and parents give them a common language.

They use it to fit in. This is, after all, junior high, Marlar says. They want to be tight.