Bringing Back the Words

Words are important. At least, being a writer, I like to think so. Words connect us to ideas. Words connect us to our culture, history, family and community. And words connect us to nature. 

I was a kid who kept lists of nature words: names of the rocks we hunted for; names for the squirrels and birds I learned to identify; names for wild places hidden in vacant lots and parks around the city. Pooh had the Hundred Acre Wood; my friends and I had the Secret Forest – though it wasn’t very secret and only had a handful of trees. Something inside me felt that if I could name an animal, flower, rock, I might know it a little better.

So I was surprised, taken aback, even appalled to learn that a children’s dictionary was removing words about nature to make more room for words about technology. This started in 2007 when the Oxford Junior Dictionary deleted a slew of nature words: dandelion, acorn, magpie, otter – seriously? Who removes those cute, fluffy critters from a children’s dictionary? But the facts are that the children’s dictionary has a limited number of pages upon which to print words, and the words children are using (or being forced to use in school) are changing. In place of the nature words, they put in voice mail, broadband, BlackBerry – a now obsolete phone, not the tasty Rubus spp we continue to pick from prickly vines to this day.

This losing of nature words rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Teachers and scientists sent emails to the Oxford dictionary folks. And author Robert Macfarlane teamed up with painter, Jackie Morris to create a lovely book, Lost Words. I discovered this book in 2019 and fell in love with it. It’s presented as a “spellbook for conjuring back those lost words” – those words snatched from the language of children before they even had a chance to learn about conkers and newts, bluebells and brambles. The pages held not just poems, but spells that might – through the magic of being spoken aloud – bring back those lost words into a child’s language. Ours, too.

How we perceive and talk about the natural world affects how we relate to it, and that affects how we care for it. Or how we don’t. I sometimes catch myself talking about going out to the garden to chat with plants or listen to the bees. When I hear a bird song I don’t recognize, I often ask, “who’s that?” 

I think that having words to share our observations about nature and the ecology around us is vitally important. Not only does it give us a language to converse in, but it strengthens our connections to the natural world. These connections are critical, especially now. In the past 50 years, human activities have contributed to a loss of nearly 70% of the world’s wildlife.

Can we reverse our environmental losses by changing the language we use? I think so. What if, instead of “profit” we talked about “environmental sustainability?” Instead of “weeds” we used words like “dandelion” and “pussy toes” and “plantain?” What if, like wildlife rehabilitators, we released wild words, like "kingfisher" back into our lexicon?

The Lost Words folks have created a wonderful Explorers Guide for teachers and parents and curious naturalists. You can find it at the John Muir Trust website (www.johnmuirtrust.org/john-muir-award/ideas-and-resources/literacy-and-nature/the-lost-words). It is packed with activities across the curriculum ~ poetry, science, things you can do outside and things you can do inside. You’ll also find articles and other resources there.

And if you’re interested in becoming a keeper of nature words, here’s another book you might want to check out: The Keeper of Wild Words, by Brooke Smith. Check out my review here.