Connie Week #1 - I Taught My Mom “Six Seven” (and What I Learned)

About a year ago, “6-7” took over the Internet. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on its over-usage; all of us have heard the dreaded three syllables repeated over and over again throughout the day (especially on school days…)

My brother’s a Gen Alpha kid, so, naturally, this nonsensical term made it to our dinner table. 

I’ll admit it—I’m a little childish—so I made the jokes with him, leaving our parents confused and, understandably, a little annoyed. Somewhere along the line, though, my mom got in on the joke, slipping a bit of Gen Alpha slang into our conversations, and, eventually, even into her work meetings (she did have to explain the joke several times over). 

When my mom, and then later, some of my teachers, started saying "six seven," though, it didn’t seem as funny anymore. When I thought about it, I realized—this inane term had only gained prominence and meaning because of the community that gave it meaning. That shared group identity is what allowed this phrase–which carries next to no meaning, no significance, no context, no intrinsic humor at all–to be considered funny. When you say "six seven," you're signaling that you understand the joke that cannot logically be understood, and that's what earns you your spot in The Group.

Despite this shared identity, and despite the lighthearted, routine nature of our jokes, creating group identities naturally necessitates exclusion—if everyone is included in The Group, what's the point? In this case, slang terms such as “boomer” or “unc” have always existed to separate the generations. Sure, they might be funny, but what’s really happening is that we’re categorizing ourselves. 

If slang can divide us so casually in our everyday conversations, how else is language used—intentionally or not—to create division? In a typical six-period day, how many times do you hear derogatory language from your peers? 

I, for one, have heard the “n-word” thrown around (by Asian Americans, no less) more often than your average surfer dude says “bro.” I’ve noticed that slurs are used almost like slang, which I find appalling. Normalizing the use of hate speech—especially without any intent to “reclaim” it—seems quite problematic, if you ask me…

As we shorten “this” to “ts” and “charisma” to “rizz,” it’s important to remember that despite the stupidity of “new gen slang,” language continues to evolve alongside society. 

Image credits: Merriam-Webster

How does your slang reflect your values? 

(P.S. And anyway, what happened to writing letters? We throw around words too lightly these days; Shakespeare was right; “words are but wind,” but I don’t think they ought to be. In a world where communication is diminished to brief texts and too-formal emails, I think we should bring back letters as a refreshing, genuine way to connect.)