My best friend, who attends the University of Chicago, is member of

Delta Gamma sorority. Their recruitment period was held last week,
and for the theme of one party, she was obliged to dress as a pirate or
maritime creature. Unsure of the appropriateness of her garment, she
felt compelled to ask whether she looked slutty in her pirate costume,
only to realize that she would be berated by her sisters for using the
word slut. At this point, it seems that she had run into something of a
dilemma: while she recognized that slut was a derogatory and highly
sexualized term seemingly used extensively for the purpose of
objectifying women, she was also unsure of how else to pose the
question. When she called to tell me about the incident, she asked me
whether we should change the meaning of the word slut, or to stop
using it altogether.
Her question shocked me, largely because I was quickly horrified by
how little attention I paid to my everyday vernacular, and furthermore,
by the implicit suggestions that my commonly used vocabulary
imparted. Whereas her sorority sisters were acutely attuned to
connotations, in my mind, there were specific definitional aspects of
nearly every word (save those that had already been classified as
racist, homophobic, sexist or otherwise) that rendered them either
appropriate or inappropriate in various situations. I had never
considered the loaded characteristics of a word like slut, which I
generally associated with promiscuity. I did not pay much attention to
the negative connotation that promiscuity carries, at least for women.
Is there any way, then, my friend inquired, to divorce the
supplementary baggage of a word from the word itself?
The word geek serves as an interesting case study for such a
question. A few decades ago, geek was quite the insult. Socially
inept and generally awkward, the label was to be avoided at all costs.
Granted, geek has never been an especially gendered term, though
the classification generally encompassed specific characteristics
(extreme computer skills, for one) and the implications went far
beyond such features. But in recent years, the geek has undergone a
significant makeover, not in its denotation, necessarily, but more so in
its connotation. With the emergence of the geek squad as skilled
computer technicians, along with hugely popular public figures like Bill
Gates and Steve Jobs, the geek began to be embraced. In fact, last
year marked the first time that the term was associated more
positively than negatively.
While such an example may demonstrate the capacity of word
meanings to shift, can its effectiveness be applied to other examples?
Michel Foucault often remarked upon the power invested in language
and particularly in names in establishing supremacy, and it seems that

we, as of late, have given little consideration to such a concept. The

slang of generations, decades and even centuries past is likely as
widespread and colloquial as that of todays, but in the modern era,
has it become more apparent that we have lost sight of the subtext of
our texts? Shakespeares painted maypole, though perhaps equally
vitriolic in intention, is still, in some ways, more refined than our
commonplace usage of slut or whore. Is it time to reexamine or, at
the very least, be more cognizant of the ways in which we speak to
and of one another?
There are of course several compounding factors that play into the
redefinition of such a term. But at the very least, perhaps my best
friends question should catalyze something larger than the
reassessment of a single word. Too often, it seems, we speak carelessly
to others, about others and about ourselves. While this is not to
suggest constant self-censorship, it is worthwhile to consider that we,
as users of a language, are ultimately responsible for its meaning. We
have the capacity to change the connotations of a word by applying it
in different settings, or by being more cognizant of the frequency or
virility with which we apply it.
There is power in language and with this recognition, perhaps we
should become more vigilant guardians of its clout.