Horrific

Words are powerful things, aren't they? When you're young, with an unrefined vocabulary, words can be mysterious and full of potential. Their meaning is as much about the feeling they evoke as their dictionary definition.

At a recent gathering, I posed a question to the audience—a question I sometimes ask strangers: "Can you recall an experience between the ages of 4 and 10 that still makes you feel deeply sad, embarrassed, or exceptionally good?" Responses varied widely: from the sting of a first crush rejection to soiled pants, from parents divorcing to the loss of pets, parents, and grandparents. Most memories are tinged with sorrow, pain, or shame; only rarely does someone recall a moment that still brings them joy.

One middle school student, now thirteen, shared a story from when she was eight years old. Her parents had enrolled her with a penmanship tutor to improve her writing. During one session, the tutor, stunned by her illegible handwriting, exclaimed, "You have horrific handwriting!" Unfamiliar with the word's meaning, the girl was delighted, thinking it meant something grand. She couldn't wait to tell her mother, "Mommy, my tutor said my handwriting is horrific! I'm so happy!"

But her joy was short-lived. Her mother gently explained, "Oh, honey, 'horrific' isn't a good word. What your tutor meant is that your handwriting is very bad." The girl was crushed, embarrassed by her ignorance. Even at thirteen, she still feels a pang of humiliation when she recalls that moment.

It made me reflect. Words are tricky tools. As an eleven-year-old, I remember riding bikes with my best friend Mike, shouting, "We are the kings of the perverts!" I took pride in the word, oblivious to its true meaning. It felt dangerously cool, a forbidden badge of honor in the face of the girls who teased us. It wasn't until I learned the real definition that I understood the gravity of the term and moved on, chalking it up to youthful naivety.

But the eight-year-old girl had a point. We grant words their power. Yes, dictionaries provide definitions, but age, time, and culture can alter perceptions. Isn't there magic in creating meaning that feels right to us?

I know the definition of "horrific." As we grow older, we understand words better, and sometimes, that knowledge brings embarrassment and shame. Perhaps it's worth letting children embrace their interpretations a bit longer.

This thirteen-year-old girl taught me something profound about words. They resonate, sometimes as melodies, independent of strict definitions. To her, "horrific" sounded like "terrific." Maybe the sour puss who defined "horrific" couldn't see the hidden joy in it. Somewhere, in the ether of time, an eight-year-old bravely claimed her own meaning, defying authority with a word that made her feel magnificent: "Your writing? It's hurray! Terrific!"