BY MORGAN RENNER

Typical: I walk into potted plant in the library. The poor fern collapses in slow motion and I stutter,  “Hah, oops, awkward.”

It comes out a little too loudly, as I’m practically yelling it in shame. This directs everyone’s attention toward me and the innocent, little houseplant I just murdered. True story.

Awkward. What is it about this simple, two-syllable, seven-letter word that has kept Mariemont so captivated? Why is this word such an accurate description of seemingly every moment of every day for every high school student?

Sophomore Grace Fening describes being awkward as “having different reactions to things than normal people would.  Like laughing too long,” she adds.

The literal meaning of the word awkward is: “lacking grace or ease in movement,” and “not well planned or designed for easy or effective use,” according to the Dictionary.com. It could also mean “lacking social graces or manners,” when referring to a person.

The slang use of the word “awkward” is hard to track. No one knows specifically where it originated from or who began the verbal trend.  It has gained a large following, however.

The word itself has earned many forms.  “Awkward” has adapted to the high school scene very well. “Awk, awk-sauce, awk-o taco,” junior Quincy Taylor lists.

Fellow junior, Mara Coyan, interjects enthusiastically with “the AwkNess Monster.”

Plenty other renditions of the word, such as “awk-topus,” “awk.com,” and the ironically beloved “awkiez” have popped up over the last few years in the halls of MHS.

There is much controversy lurking behind the innocent slang twists. Too much of a good thing can be dangerous, as many know. When asked if “awkward” and its variations are overused, Fening replies, “Yeah. I hate it when it’s not an awkward sitution and people are like ‘OMG AWKWARD’. No. Just shut up.” She continues, “Saying it’s awk, makes it awk.”

Fening admits to using the term at least five times a day, even after ranting about it’s overuse. Taylor, an awk-enthusiest, says that she uses the word “at least three times a bell. Probably about thirty times a day.”

The side-to-side hallway tango, the head-first, blunt smack into a door frame, the hand-brush of a stranger in the hallway, everyone has these moments. The uncomfortable minutes of our teenaged lives that demand a grimace and allow a laugh at the same time. They’re awkward, and there’s no denying them their rightful adjective.

“It’s something you’re born with,” says Fening. “It’s not like we can change it.”