Youth Slang: How Teens Keep Language Fresh (and Adults Perpetually Confused)

By: Annie Yuan ‘26

         Language constantly evolves as a facet of human expression — much to the delight of teenagers and the confusion of their parents. In particular, youth colloquialisms have constantly served as badges of identity for adolescents and sources of bewilderment for older generations. Today's "rizz" was yesterday's "mojo" in the 1960s, and even earlier, previous generations might've proudly boasted about their "moxie" in the roaring 1920s. So, what exactly inspires teens to reshape language constantly, and how do certain words manage to stick around — or awkwardly fade away? The answer, unsurprisingly, lies in cultural shifts and the breakneck pace of language evolution on the internet.

 Interestingly, even the term "slang" itself is somewhat obscure. Etymologists are not entirely sure, though some suggest it appeared in the 18th century as a playful twist on "language," while others argue it might originate from the Scandinavian "slengja," meaning "to sling or throw" — as if teens have always been happily tossing words around. Linguist Connie Eble notes that "slang is the linguistic prerogative of young people," underscoring its role as a rite of passage for adolescents. 

 Adolescents, in their endless quest for identity and a bit of healthy rebellion, often invent or repurpose words to distinguish themselves from adults — especially parents who might mistakenly call a particularly well-cooked casserole “lit.” Linguists refer to this as age-graded variation, but most teenagers simply call it "being cool." 

 Unlike formal grammar, meticulously guarded by teachers and grammar police, slang emerges spontaneously, thriving precisely because it resists control. What starts as an inside joke, casual abbreviation, or an ironically misused word can quickly become part of everyday vocabulary — much to the chagrin of those desperately googling what exactly their nephew means by “skibidi.” Originating from a bizarre YouTube series about human-toilet hybrids, the term rapidly caught on, sparking over 200,000 confused searches from people just trying to figure it out — showing exactly how slang effortlessly dodges regulation and slips swiftly into mainstream usage.

 Yet slang's evolution is not purely random — it follows predictable patterns. Take the word "cool," which originally just described temperature before suddenly gaining the power to denote approval or admiration sometime in the 20th century. Similarly, "sick" and "bad," once reliably negative, now express enthusiasm — proving teenagers have never let semantics get in the way of having a good time.

Teen slang also loves phonetic shortcuts, probably because typing out "suspicious" feels tedious when you can simply say "sus." And why declare your intention to do something with a cumbersome phrase when “finna” will suffice? The digital age has amplified this trend dramatically, gifting us classics like "LOL" (laugh out loud) and "BRB" (be right back), born out of necessity and maintained by convenience  — or laziness, depending on whom you ask.

Slang also happily borrows from other languages and cultures, creating delightful linguistic mash-ups. African American Vernacular English (AAVE), for instance, has given us terms like "lit" and "no cap" now firmly entrenched in mainstream usage thanks to hip-hop and social media platforms. Indeed, today’s slang journeys at warp speed across the globe, hitching rides on TikTok trends and Twitter memes.

As linguist Gretchen McCulloch points out, "Internet slang collapses time — new words emerge and become outdated faster than ever before." The cyclical nature of slang means terms often vanish, only to be reincarnated decades later, freshly tweaked. Words like "vibe" and "slay," once popular in the 1970s and 1990s respectively, return periodically, rebranded by new generations keen on rediscovering vintage linguistic swag. 

More than mere novelty, teen slang acts as a sociolect — a secret handshake distinguishing insiders from outsiders. It is both a social bridge and a barrier, allowing teens to bond while gently reminding everyone else they are not invited to the linguistic party. Sociolinguistic studies affirm that adopting slang marks community membership, providing adolescents with a sense of belonging — and giving adults plenty of amusingly confusing dinner table conversations. 

As society barrels onward, teen slang will inevitably continue morphing, generating eye-rolls, and sighs from older generations who lament that “kids these days” are ruining language — ironically using the same complaint their parents once made.  Today’s trendy terms, like "rizz" and "skibidi,” will surely fade, but the playful irreverence that created them endures. Slang reminds us that language isn’t just grammar rules in dusty textbooks; it's a lively, mischievous creature — endlessly evolving, forever youthful, and always just a little bit rebellious.  

https://www.npr.org/2019/07/31/747020219/our-language-is-evolving-because-internet

https://compass.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/lnc3.343

https://academic.oup.com/book/565/chapter-abstract/135299964?redirectedFrom=fulltext&login=false