Anthropology – Language Response
Don’t speak the language?
Teen talk, or text. I don’t speak it. It took me a few months to understand that LOL was about laughing. I was certain it was some code for “Love you Mom”. Come to find out they were laughing out loud in code.
I am a “good mom”, debatable statement I am sure, but I pay attention to my children, their friends, their conversations (yes, I listen in when they are talking. No, I am not creepy listening in from another phone…I hear one sided conversation, my child’s side. HELLO…cell phones don’t have a second line). I even try to read between the lines as a “friend” on Facebook. While I refrain from commenting on their status’s, I do sometimes “like” them, and thus follow the chat.
One particular conversation left me googling for definition. “Hella sketch” my son said, which apparently means something to the degree of wear a helmet; it could be a little dangerous. To which his friend replied, “sounds sick”. I wasn’t sure if that meant disgusting or flu-like possibility might be heard of. I caught that the boys were jonsen to “hit urban”. That means stay local, throw down some ski tricks. At least they were staying close to home. As they continued to convo I learned that “scope it” does not mean fresh breath, and “hit me up” doesn’t mean anyone is getting smacked. “Fo sho” means yes, and “nagguh” is no, except when I respond “fo sho you be picking up your dirty clothes off the floor” I don’t get a nagguh…I get a blank “don’t speak the language Mom” stare. I did understand “that’s a damper”, which soothed me that some things mean what they say. But when his friend responded “it will be ill” I was certain a get well card was in order. And when the boys say, “word, son” they are ending the conversation. What needed to be said was said. They “thro ish” and that is all that it sounds like. It’s ish, as opposed to ish it. I’ve heard it both ways.
I understand him about the same as I did when he was babbling as a baby boy. Still, a mother loves. Word.