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SALT LAKE CITY — As a writer, I pay close attention to words and how people talk. I’ve noticed that families have their own way of speaking to each other — completely unique, often entertaining and always a reflection of shared love.
Every family, a tight-knit social group, forms their own version of language, their own dialect. My husband’s family, the Harmans, provides a stellar example of family dialect. The most prominent occurrence of unique language in our family is use of the word “dus.” It may not be in the dictionary, but for a Harman, it’s most definitely a real word and used daily.
“Dus” means the same as “dibs,” or “I say,” “I think,” “I want.” For example: “dus not,” “dus we do.” “dus it.” There is a lot of “dusing” going on.
The Harman dialect
Words are subject to change in the hands and mouths of the Harmans. One word in particular resulted in a whole new vocabulary for sweating, such as, “swack” — a sweaty back. And everyone’s favorite, “swass” — I’ll let you figure that one out yourself.
Words are subject to change in the hands and mouths of the Harmans. One word in particular resulted in a whole new vocabulary for sweating.
Another example of Harman-word-evolution came from my husband and his cousin while in their teens. They decided that an ss-sound should replace the x-sound in any and all words. The words “esscited” and “sessy” are still used by all in the family.
Movie quotes are also a part of normal conversation. It is a rite of passage in my hubby’s family to be able to quote “The Burbs” at any moment in time, for any given situation. And if someone sings out, “The stars at night are big and bright —” the rest of the family will, with boisterous enthusiasm, sing back, “-clap-clap-clap-clap-deep in the heart of Texas.”
No, we aren’t from Texas — that’s from “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure.”
A strange code of noises, impossible to make sense of in writing, is also used by the cousins. They’re especially prevalent at the epic, annual family camping trip to Arches National Park. One cousin will call out a noise and the rest will return with the corresponding noise. To an outsider, this may sound like laughing coyotes, but to the Harmans, it’s communication.
The Bills dialect
My family, the Bills, have our own dialect as well, although a more-subtle brand than the Harmans. Our dialect is formed around favorite expressions and phrases, nicknames and the written word.
Nicknames are another part of family dialect. My dad calls me Lynus because my middle name is Lyn, and as a child, I carried around a blankie like Linus from "Charlie Brown."
Grandma Jo, my father’s mother, is the queen of quotable expressions. My sister and I often call each other “Maynard.” “Way to go, Maynard,” we say, a name my grandma calls us. When someone asks what time it is, Grandma always says, “A freckle past a hair,” so naturally we’ve adopted the phrase. And we all learned early on not to accept the offer of a “hurts donut” because a punch to the shoulder really does hurt.
My dad has a gift for vocabulary. His eloquence and intelligence have certainly shaped our family dialect. The most famous incident of his wordsmith magic occurred after spending a lot of time at Scout camps, youth activities and in the company of my three teenage brothers.
He said, quite seriously, “The adolescent infatuation with flatulence is most distressing.” Quite the elegant, refined way of saying, “Boys are gross.” This expression is often quoted around our dinner table, followed by lots of laughter and Dad’s famous head shake.
Nicknames are another part of family dialect. My dad calls me Lynus because my middle name is Lyn, and as a child, I carried around a blankie like Linus from “Charlie Brown.” This name may have started out with humor, but has become more a term of endearment. When Dad calls me Lynus, I also hear, “I love you, my daughter.”
The written word is a huge part of how the Bills connect and share. Although this isn’t technically a part of dialect, it still counts as communication. Mom was and still is a note-leaver: in lunches, under pillows and even on the fridge.
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While organizing some old things, I came across a note from her, written to my 8-year-old self. She wrote in her perfect, round penmanship, “God has many blessings in store for you. One of them will be having a daughter of your own. May she be as wonderful as you are!” As I read this, my oldest child, a daughter, sat next to me. I read her Grandma’s tender, prophetic words and hugged her close, tears on my cheeks.
Your family's dialect
You can tell a lot about a family by listening to their dialect, even if you can’t understand it. The Harmans may be a crazy bunch, but there are few families I know that are closer and more supportive of each other. My family is the same, pulled together by our words. If you look closely, between the lines of all that bizarre language and communication, you find deep-rooted love.
Dus it never changes.
Does your family have their own dialect? Does it reflect the type of family you are? Share your own quirkiness on the Book Matters Facebook page or here on the comment board.
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*Teri Harman, author and book enthusiast, writes a bi-weekly column, Book Matters, for ksl.com and also contributes a monthly book segment to Studio 5. Her debut novel, "Blood Moon," comes out June 2013. For more book fun, visit book- matters.com**
