Word of the Month: Halloween

1 October 2002

The end of October is when all the ghosts and goblins come out. 31 October is Halloween and that is our word of the month. Presented here is something of a Halloween bestiary of spooks and specters (and some commonplace things) that one might find on the last night of the month.

Halloween, n., holiday celebrated on 31 October, supposedly the night that witches and demons emerge. The word is a clipping of All-Hallow Even. The modern, clipped form is from the 18th century, but All Hallow’s Eve dates to the 16th, and Allhallowmass, denoting all the saints, dates to 1083. According to the Celtic calendar, 1 November was the first day of the New Year. The night of last day of October was Old Year’s Night or the night of the witches. With the coming of Christianity, it was transformed into a holiday to celebrate the saints.

Bogle, n., a spectre, goblin, or phantom. Various forms exist, including boggard, boggart, boggle, and bogy. From 1500 in Scottish literature, in England a bit later. The ultimate origin is unknown, but it may be from the Welsh bwg or bug in English, also meaning a goblin or spectre.

Candy, n., a sweet confection, especially crystallized sugar. From the French candi, found in sucre candi. It makes its English appearance c. 1420 as sugar candy, clipped to candy by 1769.

Chocolate, n. and adj., a beverage (originally) or food made from cacao seeds and other flavorings. From the French chocolat, ultimately from the Mexican chocolatl. It is, interestingly, etymologically unrelated to cacao or cocoa.

Costume, n., clothing intended to represent a particular period or character. From the French, which in turn is from the Italian, and which ultimately is from the Latin consuetudinem (Cf. custom). In English use since 1715. Originally a term used by Italian performance artists.

Demon, n., an evil spirit or being. From the Latin daemon, which in turn is taken from Greek mythos. From 1387 in English usage, but the earliest English usages reflect the Greek sense, a spirit that often guides the affairs of men. The sense of an evil being dates to c. 1400.

Fiend, n., the original meaning is simply an opponent or foe. From the Old English féond. The word originally appears in Beowulf. By c. 1000 fiend was being applied to Satan (the foe of humanity) or to other demons. Applied to evil people by c. 1220.

Ghost, n., now primarily used to denote the spirit of a deceased person who manifests itself to the living (1386). From the Old English gást, cognates are found in other West Germanic languages. Earlier senses include the soul or spirit of life; a spirit, good, evil, or neutral; the spirit of God (now only used in the phrase Holy Ghost); all dating to c. 1000 or earlier.

Ghoul, n., an evil spirit that robs graves and feeds on human corpses, by extension a human that does the same. From the Arabic ghūl, originally from Arabian folklore. Found in English from 1786.

Goblin, n., a demon. From the obsolete French gobelin. In use in English by c. 1327. The French word is not recorded until the 16th century, but there are 12th century references to a demon with the name Gobelinus. The ultimate origin is not known, perhaps from the Medieval Latin cobalus, a rogue or knave.

Imp, n., a small devil or demon. From the Old English impa. The original sense was a graft or scion of a tree or plant, from c. 897. It was applied to children by c. 1380. The sense of a child of the devil or of hell dates to 1526.

Jack O’Lantern, n., a lantern made from a hollowed-out pumpkin and a candle, with holes cut in the rind to represent eyes, nose, and mouth. This sense dates to 1837. Older senses meaning a man with a lantern and a will-o’-the-wisp date to the 17th century.

Lycanthrope, n., a mentally ill person who imagines himself an animal, especially a wolf. Recorded in ancient Greek texts, it makes its English appearance in 1584 (lycanthropy). From the Greek for wolf + man. 19th century writers began using it as synonym for werewolf.

Mischief Night, n., night that children commit pranks and vandalism, often with the mistaken belief that the law allows them one night a year to do so. Various nights of the year qualify depending on the region. 30 October, the night before Halloween, is a popular choice. Called Devil’s Night in some parts of the US (e.g., Michigan), it is often associated with arson and more serious crimes. From 1865.

Ogre, n., a man-eating monster, a giant. English usage dates to 1713. From the French. First used in that language in 1697. Possibly formed from the Italian dialectical *ogro, which may be from the Latin orca, or whale.

Orc, n., a monster or ogre. From 1598. Perhaps taken from the Latin orca, a whale. Although there is a single use of orcneas in Beowulf to denote monsters. A rare word until J.R.R. Tolkien used it in The Hobbit (1937) to describe a warlike race of goblins.

Pumpkin, n., a type of orange squash, Cucurbita pepo. A 17th century alteration of pompion, which in turn is from an obsolete French name for the melon.

Spook, n., a spectre, apparition, or ghost. From 1801 in American usage, 1859 in British. Either from the Dutch spook or the German spuk. Forms first appear in Middle Low German, the ultimate etymology is not known.

Trick or Treat, int., traditional American request for candy given by children going door-to-door in their neighborhoods, originally a threat of vandalism unless they were appeased with candy. Surprisingly, the term can only be dated to 1941, when the Saturday Evening Post published a poem by that title. In 1937 that magazine ran a cover illustration titled Trick or Treaters. The practice may not be that much older, perhaps only dating to the 1930s, instituted as a means of controlling children bent on mischief.

Troll, n., from Scandinavian mythology a race of supernatural beings. Once depicted as giants, they shrunk over the centuries and became a dwarfish race living a subterranean existence. From the Swedish and Old Norse troll. The word makes its English appearance in the 19th century, except in the Shetland and Orkney Islands where it has survived as a relic of the Norse dialect originally spoken there. The modern Shetland/Orkney form is trow.

Vampire, n., a supernatural being that feeds of the blood of humans. In English use from c. 1734. The English word is borrowed from French. The ultimate origin is uncertain. Some trace it to the Hungarian vampir, others to Serbian. Cognates exist in most European languages.

Warlock, n., primarily used today to mean a male witch. From the Old English wǽrloga, originally meaning an oath breaker or traitor. The word has had many senses including: a wicked person; a damned soul; Satan; a devil or demon; and a monster; all of which date to c. 1000 or before. The sense of a person or demon in league with Satan and who practices sorcery dates to the 14th century.

Werewolf, n., a person who is capable of changing into a wolf, usually, according to folklore, during a full moon. The word makes one appearance in Old English, werewulf, c. 1000. Usually thought to be a combination of wer (man) + wulf (wolf), but the extra e confounds linguists, it shouldn’t be there. Other combining forms drop the e, as in wergeld. Cognates exist in Dutch and German.

Wicca, n., the name given to the modern, religious practice of witchcraft. Revival of the Old English wicca (Cf. witch). In modern use since 1959.

Witch, n., a practitioner of magic or sorcery, usually depicted as a woman, but a witch can be either male or female. From the Old English wicca (masc., c. 890) and wicce (fem., c. 1000).

Book Review: The Way We Talk Now

1 September 2002

Since 1989, linguist Geoffrey Nunberg has been a regular commentator on National Public Radio’s Fresh Air. He regularly delivers essays about the changing nature of the American language. The Way We Talk Now is a collection of some of the best of these radio essays.

His essays cover the spectrum of language change, from etymology to the influence of politics on language to grammar and usage issues. His subjects include cigarette jingles, how the meaning of superman has changed over the years, what is a cult, and spelling bees.

Nunberg takes a compromise position in the debate over whether change in the language is a good thing. He recognizes that rules like never splitting an infinitive are silly and have no basis in good grammar, yet he does admit there is such a thing as good writing and speech and that not all changes are to the good. He writes in his essay on the Ebonics controversy of 1997, “it has nothing to do with the ‘the language of Shakespeare.’ Their immediate task is to teach their charges to speak like kids in middle-class suburbs, so that they can grow up to become competent speakers of the brutalist clatter of the American political and business worlds. They don’t have to talk like James Baldwin, but it is clearly to their advantage to be able to give a passable imitation of George Bush.”

Perhaps the first thing that strikes you about the essays is the wit. Nunberg is genuinely funny. He compares E.B. White’s Charlotte to a public relations executive, “so she gets a rat to pick some clippings out the garbage, and then she spins a gossamer of words out of her rear, and all of a sudden everyone’s looking at the pigsty with new eyes.” In another essay he takes on the implications of a grammar quiz that appears in Cosmopolitan magazine, “just the thing to keep him interested. That pretty little mouth of yours drawn in a pout as it closes around a whom.”

If there is a problem with the book, it is that there is no organizing principle other than discussion of our changing language. Still, since this is a collection of essays written over a 13-year span, this is to be expected. The essay format makes the book ideal for snatching a quick read when you have two or three minutes to spare. It can be picked up and put down again without loss of continuity—perfect for subway or airplane reading.

Houghton Mifflin, 256 pp, Oct. 2001, paperback, $14.00.

Prescriptivist's Corner: The Catastrophe of Apostrophes

1 September 2002

One of the more troublesome punctuation marks is the simple apostrophe. Editors and writers simply cannot agree on its proper use. There is no disagreement over the major function of the mark, but like many things the devil is in the details. The application of the apostrophe is a grammatical catastrophe.

One would think it was simple enough. Over its history, the apostrophe has served three basic functions, one of which has been falling out of use in recent years. First, it substitutes for missing or silent letters. Second, it marks the possessive case. Finally, the practice that is dying out is the use to mark the plural of acronyms, numbers, or letters.

Sins of Omission
The apostrophe was introduced into English in the 16th century as a means of marking where a letter or letters were omitted. Today, this most commonly occurs in contractions, like it’s for it is and don’t for do not. But the apostrophe is also used in certain words that are traditionally spelled with their silent letters omitted to better represent pronunciation. These include fo’c’s’le (forecastle), bo’s’n (boatswain), ne’er-do-well (never-do-well), rock ‘n’ roll (rock and roll), and o’er (over). And the apostrophe can also be used in place of the letter e in the adjectival suffix –ed when the root word ends in a fully pronounced vowel. Thus you have shampoo’d hair instead of shampooed hair, subpoena’d witness instead of subpoenaed witness, and shanghai’d sailor instead of shanghaied sailor. Not all writers and editors follow this last practice (and evidently from the red squiggles that are appearing on my computer screen, Microsoft’s spell checker doesn’t like it much either), but use of the apostrophe in such instances cannot be considered incorrect, just in violation of house style.

The apostrophe can also be used to substitute for omitted numerals. This is most commonly done in dates: the ‘60s.

Possessive/Genitive
The second major use of the apostrophe is in forming the possessive (genitive) case.

The singular possessive of nouns and the possessive of plurals that do not end in s are formed with ‘s (e.g., Vinnie’s loan and men’s wagers). The possessive of plurals that end in s are formed with just an apostrophe (e.g., the brass knuckles’ shiny surface).

This rule for possessives is almost invariable. Singular nouns and names that end in the letter s take ‘s to form the possessive. Thus, it is Charles’s, not Charles’. There are three exceptions. The first is a handful of classical names that end in s. These take just the apostrophe to form the possessive. Thus it is Achilles’ heel, Moses’ laws, and Jesus’ parables.

The second exception is in proper names of places and institutions. In some cases, the apostrophe is dropped and the possessive is formed with just an s. There is no rule to determine when to drop the apostrophe; you just have to rely on tradition or the institution’s preference. Thus Vinnie might be locked up on Riker’s Island, but his hometown is Toms River, New Jersey. He might knock over Barclays Bank, but he would torch Woolworth’s Department Store for the insurance money. The trend in recent years has been for businesses to drop the apostrophe in their names.

The third exception is in the phrase for goodness’ sake(s). Traditionally, this term only takes the apostrophe, not the ‘s. Some authorities also claim that it should be for conscience’ sake and for appearance’ sake as well, but this is not followed by the majority of American writers. Most writers and editors prefer for conscience’s sake and for appearance’s sake.

The possessive of pronouns is a bit different than it is for nouns. Personal pronouns do not take an apostrophe in the possessive: his, hers, its, theirs, yours, and ours. Impersonal and indefinite pronouns, however, do take the apostrophe: anybody’s guess, each other’s wagers, one’s debts, and somebody else’s money.

Remember, the most common error regarding the apostrophe is confusion between it’s and its. It’s is the contraction for it is and its is the possessive pronoun. Even the best writers make this error, often the result of carelessness, rather than ignorance.

While the rule on possessives is simple and (almost) universal, in actual application it can be a bit complex at times.

Possessive of Compound Nouns
Compound nouns only take the ‘s at the end of the final element: Duke of Edinburgh’s gaffe, Genco Olive Oil’s customers.

Possessive of Joint Nouns
The phrase Vinnie and Sonny’s buttonmen indicates that Vinnie and Sonny are partners and jointly employ a group of buttonmen. Vinnie’s and Sonny’s buttonmen indicates that there are two groups of buttonmen, each individual employing one of the groups.

Double Possessive
Then there is the question of the double possessive. I probably shouldn’t go off on a rant here, but it never ceases to amaze me when linguists and lexicographers abuse the language to the point that they utterly fail to communicate. Of all people, they should know better. Here is what Robert Burchfield, editor of the OED2, has to say about the double possessive: “The currency of the type a friend of my father’s is not in question. It is called the post-genitive in CGEL; Jesperson says that of-phrases thus used should not be called partitive but ‘appositional’; the OED describes the construction as ‘of followed by a possessive case or absolute possessive pronoun: originally partitive but subseq. used instead of the simple possessive (of the possessor or author) where this would be awkward or ambiguous, or as equivalent to the appositive phrase’.” I don’t know about you, but it took me about three hours to figure out what Burchfield means. What is the point of writing a grammar manual if no one can understand what you say?

What Burchfield is trying to say is that constructions like a friend of my father’s or a buttonman of Vinnie’s are a common English idiom. On the face of it, the addition of the ‘s is redundant and unnecessary, but it has been done this way since we were speaking Middle English. There is nothing wrong with the double possessive. Now, why didn’t he just say that?

Adjectival Names
A common error is to use the possessive when a proper name is used as an adjective. It should be Vinnie altered the spread for the Giants game, not Vinnie altered the spread for the Giants’ game.

Possessive of Possessive Names
Many businesses, like McDonald’s or Woolworth’s, use the possessive form as their name. How does one use these in the possessive? Technically, I guess one could write McDonald’s’s quarterpounders or Woolworth’s’s toys, but the only good way is to create the possessive with a prepositional phrase, as in the quarterpounders at McDonald’s or the toys at Woolworth’s.

Inanimate Objects
Some authorities argue that inanimate objects cannot possess other things, therefore one should not use the ‘s with things. They say it should be the shiny surface of the brass knuckles, not the brass knuckle’s shiny surface. This is a silly argument. One does not avoid the ownership question by using of instead of ‘s. And the possessive case is not really about ownership. If it were, Karl Marx wouldn’t have written, “Workers of the world unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains.” After all, it’s the capitalists and not the workers that own everything. He would have written, “…nothing to lose but the chains that bind you.” Rather, the possessive is really about identification and reference, about winnowing the universe of shiny surfaces down to the one shiny surface associated with a particular pair of brass knuckles. There is nothing wrong with using ‘s with inanimate objects.

Forming Plurals
In years past, the apostrophe was commonly used to form plurals of abbreviations and numerals. Hence we had the 1980’s, CPA’s, and mind your p’s and q’s. In recent years, however, this practice has been sharply reduced in occurrence. Today you are much more likely to see 1980s and CPAs. In most cases there is no confusion and it is better to simply follow the standard practice of adding just an s to form the plural. Forming the plural of individual letters, however, is tricky. But capitalizing the letter and adding s usually works, as in mind your Ps and Qs.

It is a good practice to keep the rules pure. Don’t use ‘s to form plurals.

American Dialect: New England

1 September 2002

This article is the first in an occasional series that will examine different regional accents across the United States (and if I become ambitious, the English-speaking world).

The New England Yankee dialect is familiar to most Americans. Its standard test is how one says “Park the car in Harvard Yard.” If you say “ Pahk the car in Hahvahd Yahd,” you are from New England, or more specifically from New England east of the Connecticut River.

Like the American Southern and New York City dialects, people in New England drop the R after a vowel sound (in linguistic jargon it is a non-rhotic dialect). Hence park becomes pahk and Harvard Yard becomes Hahvahd Yahd. And many is the New England child who grew up thinking that mirror attached to the car’s windshield was the review mirror, to review what you just passed, not the rear view mirror. But there is a twist. In New England (and in New York City), one does not drop the R at the end of a word if the next word begins with a vowel. Hence, the R is pronounced in car in the above phrase because the next word begins with I. If one were simply giving the command park the car, it would be pronounced pahk the cah because there is no vowel sound following. Southerners drop the R regardless of what comes next.

Another feature of the New England dialect that is expressed in the pahk the car phrase is the Broad A. In most of the United States, the words father and bother rhyme. In New England, they don’t. The difference is the Broad A sound in the New England father. The Broad A is difficult to describe to someone who doesn’t have the sound in their phonological repertoire (i.e., most Americans). But it is sort of a combination of the O in bother and the A in hat.

The third distinct pronunciation difference in New England speech is the Short O. Most words that take a long O vowel instead take a short one in traditional New England speech. So road becomes rud and home becomes hum. The New England Short O, however, is disappearing. It is becoming increasingly difficult to find people that actually use it.

Not all New Englanders speak alike, however. We’ve already mentioned the magic dividing line of the Connecticut River. That river separates Vermont from New Hampshire and bisects Connecticut and Massachusetts. The New England accent is primarily found east of that line, in Eastern Connecticut, Rhode Island, Eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Coastal Maine. West of the river, in Vermont, Western Massachusetts, and Western Connecticut, the New England Accent gives way to the standard Mid-Atlantic and New York City accents. And in Northern Maine you find Quebecois and Canadian English influences. French words creep into speech and the Canadian OU, where about is pronounced aboot, can be found, eh.

Boston, the chief city in New England, has some further variation of its own. Throughout the city, both geographically and socially, you will find that most speak with the standard New England accent. But there are two social groups that have their own distinctive speech.

The first are the Brahmins, the old money, social elites. Their pronunciation is almost British. Like the British, the short A is pronounced as ah, so glass has the same vowel sound as father. The Broad A tends to become a clipped A in Brahmin speak, thus a Brahmin’s beloved alma mater is pronounced Hahvud and marble isn’t mah-ble, it’s mabble. Note the Brahmins still drop the R like the rest of their fellow New Englanders.

The second Boston variation is that of the working class of the center city. It’s very similar to the standard New England accent, but there are a few differences. The short A in many words, like washed, becomes an O, and T is often changed to D. Potatoes, for example, becomes padadahs.

And don’t get me started on the Kennedys. Nobody else talks like that.

Word of the Month: University

1 September 2002

September is back-to-school month. In honor of all those students returning to the classroom, we present a selection of words and terms associated with higher education. Our word of the month is:

University, n., an institution of higher learning, the body of faculty and students of such an institution (c. 1300), from the Anglo-Norman université, ultimately from the Latin universus. In modern American usage, a university typically has both undergraduate and graduate departments and comprises several colleges.

The word university alone is hardly enough to capture a taste of college life. So here is a selection of terms associated with (mostly) American university life.

____ 101, n., at US universities, courses are often numbered with 101-199 being reserved for freshman courses, 201-299 for sophomore ones, and so on. So a course with the number 101 would be the easiest, or most basic course in a particular field. The numbers have passed into the general vocabulary, so that someone who has taken, for instance, Psych 101 has a basic or rudimentary knowledge of psychology.

All-nighter, n., an study session that lasts into the wee hours of the morning. As a general term for late-night work, the term dates to 1895. University usage dates to the 1960s.

Alma Mater, n., the university one attends or attended. From the Latin title for bounteous mother. Originally a title given to a goddess, especially Ceres, transferred to the university by 1803.

Alumnus, n., in American university usage, it has meant a graduate of a university since 1843. The original sense is a student or pupil at a school, one who has been entrusted into the care of the school, since 1645. From the Latin term for a foster child. The plural is alumni. The female Latin form is alumna, plural alumnae, although the female forms are often ignored in English nowadays, except by all-women’s institutions.

Bachelor’s Degree, n., the basic degree conferred upon students at a university. From the Latin baccalaria, a small parcel of land or a farm (bacca = cow). The original sense of bachelor was a young knight or landowner (1297). The university sense (1362) and the sense of an unmarried man (1386) both stem from this original sense. The modern university spelling of baccalaureate degree is the result of an old pun that has become a standard spelling. Bacca lauri means laurel berry, evoking images of laurel wreaths. Occasionally someone mistakes this pun for a true etymology.

Campus, n. and adj., the grounds of a college or university. From the Latin word meaning field. English language use began in 1774 at Princeton.

Co-ed, n. and adj., clipping of co-education and co-educational, the admission of both men and women (or boys and girls) to the same school or institution, a woman (or girl) who attends a school with men (boys). Co-education is US educational jargon from 1852. The clipping co-ed appears as early as 1886. Use of co-ed to denote a female student dates to 1893. The term has fallen out of use since the 1970s as the vast majority of universities admit both men and women and the need to highlight the co-educational nature has disappeared. The sense meaning a female student is considered by some to be sexist and demeaning.

College, n., an institution of higher learning. In modern American usage, a college not affiliated with a university typically has only undergraduate students. It is from the Old French collége, and ultimately from the Latin collēgium, or colleagueship, partnership. Also, an organized group of persons with prescribed functions and privileges, as in the Electoral College, the College of Cardinals, and the College of Surgeons. The general sense is from c. 1380, academic sense from c. 1379.

Curriculum, n., a course of study at a school, from the Latin word for course, career. The term has been in use at English universities since 1633. Curriculum Vitae, or C.V., literally the course of one’s life, is the academic term for a summary of one’s career accomplishments, a résumé. Extra-curricular is an adjective denoting anything having to do with college life that is not directly related to one’s course of study: sports, clubs, parties, etc.

Dean, n., a university official, ranking below the president. From the Middle English deen (1388), originally from the Latin decanum. The Latin term was a military title, the leader of ten men. Gradually, the meaning expanded to civil and ecclesiastical offices as well. Later (1577), dean was applied to resident fellows at Oxford and Cambridge appointed to maintain discipline and behavior among younger students. At other universities, the term was applied to heads of faculty or departments of study (1524).

Dormitory, n. and adj., originally a sleeping chamber, especially a room containing many beds where monks or students sleep (1485), in American usage a residence hall at a university or college (1865). From the Latin dormitorium.

Faculty, n. and adj., the professors and instructors of a university. From the Latin facultatem, or power, ability. The general sense of an ability or aptitude dates to 1490 in English. The sense of a department of learning at a university is older, dating to 1387 (and even earlier in Medieval Latin texts). The sense of the entire teaching staff of a school is more recent and American in origin, dating to 1767.

Fraternity, n., a social group of students (traditionally all male, although some now admit women) at an American university, usually with a name consisting of several Greek letters. The first fraternity was Phi Beta Kappa, established in 1777. (Phi Beta Kappa is no longer a social fraternity, having become an honorary association of scholars). In addition to sponsoring social activities, at many schools fraternities provide room and board to their members. From the Old French fraternité, or brotherhood.

Freshman, n. and adj., a first-year student, a newcomer. The word is a compound of fresh + man. The general sense is from c. 1550, the academic sense from 1596.

Gaudeamus, n., a social gathering of students, a party. From 1823, now archaic. From the first line of student’s drinking song in modern Latin: Gaudeamus igitur, juvenes dum sumus (Then let us be merry while we are young).

Greek, n. and adj., member of a fraternity, pertaining to the fraternity system. The term Greek-letter society dates to 1888. The clipped form Greek appears in 1934. From the Greek letters used in the names of American fraternities. Girls and Greeks is a term used to denote a fraternity party that is open to women and members of other fraternities (reciprocity), but closed to men who are not fraternity members (G.D.I.s or God-Damned Independents, sometimes Gamma Delta Iotas).

Ivy League, n. and adj., athletic association of Northeast US universities consisting of Brown, Columbia, Cornell, Dartmouth, Harvard, University of Pennsylvania, Princeton, and Yale. Originally an unofficial sportswriter’s term (1937) for the Old Ten association, the league was formalized in 1954. Originally, the US Military and Naval Academies were considered part of the Ivy League, but they dropped out of the Old Ten association in 1940 and never joined the formal Ivy League association. The name is from the association with Ivy-covered walls at these venerable institutions. As an adjective, it carries the connotation of old and prestigious schools, among the best in the nation.

Junior, n. and adj., a third-year student at an American college or university. Originally, junior sophister. From the sense of junior = lesser, or lower rank. Since 1766.

Liberal Arts, n., fields of study directed toward general intellectual attainment rather than technical or professional training. From 1387. So called because they are the proper studies for a free or gentleman.

Midshipman, n., a naval academy cadet. Originally it was the lowest ranking naval officer, one in training and who has yet to receive his commission (1626). From amidships + man, their place of duty on deck.

Plebe, n. and adj., a freshman cadet at the US Military Academy or other military schools. It is a clipping of plebeian or commoner. From 1833.

Professor, n., a senior instructor at a university, particularly one who holds an endowed chair. From the Latin professor, one who professes or speaks. Originally one who professes membership in a religious order, it has been used in the university sense since 1380.

Provost, n., the head or dean of the faculty at a university or college (1442). From the Old English profost (c. 961), originally from the Latin praepostitus. The original sense is the head of a religious chapter or community, later transferred to academic use.

Quad, n., clipping of quadrangle, originating at Oxford (1820). A quadrangle is a square or rectangular courtyard surrounded by a building or buildings (1593).

R.O.T.C., abbrev., often pronounced rot-see, Reserve Officer’s Training Corps. A program of military instruction offered at US universities to train officers for military service. Originally a required course of instruction at many institutions, it is now voluntary. Many R.O.T.C. students receive scholarships, with the government paying all or part of tuition in return for a guarantee of several years of military service.

Rush, n. and adj., period during which bids to join a fraternity or sorority are extended to candidates, an adjective describing social activities related to such recruitment, as in rush party. Since 1899. From the rugby and American football term for charging the line in concert.

S.A.T., abbrev., Scholastic Aptitude Test, also known as the College Boards. It is a standardized test taken by American high school students used by universities as a factor in making admission decisions. The S.A.T. consists of two parts, verbal and mathematical, and each is scored on a scale of 200-800. Scores are commonly expressed as a combined score ranging from 400-1600.

Sabbatical, adj. and n., a period (usually a semester or a year) during which a professor has no teaching duties and may pursue research or other work, originally not granted more often than once every seven years; originally US (1886). Sabbatical has an older sense, as an adjective relating to the Jewish Sabbath. The term sabbatical year (1599) refers to Mosaic law that declares that all slaves must be freed and debts forgiven every seven years. The educational sense focused on the seven year requirement, hence the term, although the imagery of being released from the slavery of teaching classes was probably appealing as well.

Semester, n., an academic period, usually half the school year. From the German semester, which in turn is from the Latin semestris (six month period).  In English usage since 1827.

Senior, n. and adj., a fourth-year student at US college or university, a student who is not a freshman at a British one. In academic use since 1651. Originally adjectival in use, as in senior fellow or senior sophister.

Sophomore, n. and adj., a second-year student, now chiefly US in usage. From sophism + -or, one who studies or engages in sophism. Dates to 1688.

Sorority, n., a social group of female students at an American university, usually with a name consisting of several Greek letters. Sororities have existed at American universities since c. 1900.  The term is either from the Medieval Latin sororitas or from the Latin soror (sister) + -ity, in imitation of fraternity. The word has been used to denote female religious orders and groups since 1532.

Tenure, n., guaranteed right of employment granted to senior faculty, intended as a means of encouraging academic freedom. Use in the educational sense is American in origin (1896). From the Latin, via Old French, tenere, meaning to hold. Use as a legal term to denote the right to hold land dates to the 15th century.

Townie, n. and adj., a resident of a college town who is not associated with the school. Townie or towney is predominantly a US usage (1852), but town has been used at Oxford and Cambridge as a term for the local communities as distinct from the universities since c. 1647. The phrase town and gown dates to 1853.

Tuition, n., US clipping of tuition fee (1828). Fee paid by students in return for instruction at a university. Originally from the Norman French tuycioun, from the Latin tuitio, or guard. Tuition has had the sense of teaching or instruction since 1582. Cf. tutor.

Varsity, adj. and n., an abbreviation of university. In the US, use is restricted to sports and sports teams, with the varsity team denoting the one that represents the school, the first-string. Since 1846; 1891 for the sports sense.