RSS 2.0 FeedIt's About, I Mean, You Know, Like, Um, Language!
Everyone I know seems to have taken up the sport of disdaining those who scatter "you know” randomly into a conversation. It's pretty easy to join that crowd, and I have shuddered along with the most sensitive of the complainers. Still, I've noticed that I'm sometimes guilty of, you know, that current conversational default. It's hard to be a purist without also becoming an anachronism.
I've also discovered that I have my own variant of "you know." The phrase "I mean" often intrudes itself into my verbalizings, unbidden and usually unnoticed by me. And truth be told, I scatter it into conversations with the same lack of forethought and intent as those who unconsciously fall back on "you know." I've even caught my language-sensitive husband saying, "I went to Trader Joe's for the wine this afternoon, and, I mean, they had this great deal on Chianti, and so, I mean, I bought three bottles."
He claims to be totally unconscious of what he's just said, and I believe him, since I rarely notice my own slippages. I'm sure he picked up the habit from me, also unaware, I mean, that it had happened.
Another expression that gets used a lot, especially by those uneasy with public speaking, is "um," as in, "I want, um, to welcome everyone to the fiftieth anniversary of, um, my parents. Please join me in a toast to, um, my mom and dad. Um, thanks!"
And, of course, who could possibly ignore "like," perhaps the most overused of the lot, especially among the Gen Xers. "I went to, like, the mall, like, and, like, Jason was, like, there, and he, like, saw me and, like, oh, my God, I was, like, in big trouble!"
What's with "you know" and "I mean" and "um" and "like”? Well, they do give us a moment of mental breathing space as we collect our thoughts before continuing on with what we are saying. And, not incidentally, they may keep the person we're talking to from diving into a pause and taking over the conversation. Of course, such expressions can also be a bonding device for groups. If all your friends say, "you know," chances are you will, too. But our use of these verbal tics goes a little further.
The speaker who can't stop saying "um" is the most desperate of the four. He's standing in front of a crowd. He doesn't want to be talking, but he's been told he has to speak. So he bumbles along, to the discomfort of himself and his audience. But who would dare boo a poor guy who can't get out a sentence with falling back on a mumbled "um”? Some insecure but nonetheless crafty speakers even use "um" as a façade of weakness to assert control over their audience by getting everyone to shut up and sympathize with them.
"I mean" is an expression of insecurity but not of desperation. The speaker has something to say but knows she might goof up and misspeak. She wants to be sure you recognize her sincerity and her need to connect with you. She's often someone who's had to struggle to stay in the conversation, someone, I mean, who knows she doesn't know it all and wants you to treat her gently and let her have her say.
"You know" is the most aggressive of the four, but that doesn't mean the speaker is more confident than any of the others. He just doesn't trust the clarity of his argument, and so he demands that the listener, you know, had better agree with what he's saying. I hear this phrase spoken by someone accustomed to getting his way, but not always as the result of honest effort or accomplishment. He's afraid that someone will see through his act and discover that he still hasn't learned his lines.
That leaves poor "like" for the end. "Like" is used by someone who is clueless about what she's saying or so lacking in self-confidence that she can't take the chance of making a clear statement. She is virtually begging you to fill in or confirm the information or insight she can't express and please, just please, give her, like, a break and help her connect with you.
Does this mean that the I mean-ers and you know-ers-and so forth are unsure and longing to, as Forster, says, "only connect"? I suspect so. Is there a way out of this bramble of inane and repetitious words that clog our language? I fear not.
I've tried saying, "Yes, I know" and "What is it like" and "I see what you mean" and smiling with great encouragement at nervous speakers, but none of these ploys has had any effect. So I've concluded that the only person over whom I have any control is me. I can't stop myself from the occasional "I mean" and "you know." But I can stop complaining about other people's use of these phrases. So fire away with all those "you know"s and "I mean"s and "um"s and "like"s. So long as you pay attention to subject and verb agreement, I'll keep listening.
Beverly Offen belongs to the in-between cohort of babies born after the Great Depression and before the Baby Boomers. She grew up on a small farm in a small town and has never wanted to live anywhere except the Midwest. She is a traditionalist and a feminist, a frugal consumer, an irreligious realistic moralist; she was a college librarian.
Beverly writes because it gives her pleasure and because writing helps her to learn what she thinks. She has been married twice, divorced years ago, and widowed recently. Perhaps because she did not have children, writing is her way to leave something of herself behind.
Beverly’s writing takes various forms and has been given different names: narrative nonfiction, essay, memoir, and creative nonfiction. Discovery and learning are themes running through most of her work. Every time she sits down to write, she learns something new.