Ed’s note: The following original work is a Windham writer’s take on the word “wicked,” a word held near and dear by many Mainers. The writer, Theresa Gauvin, was a student last semester at Windham Adult Education, which regularly holds creative writing courses as well as English as a second language classes.
Many people from Maine, including myself, use the word wicked. Like the word ayah, it is considered a Maine-ism or colloquialism.
Our use of the word wicked complies with The American Heritage College Dictionary definition: “evil by nature and in practice, playfully malicious or mischievous, severe and distressing, highly offensive, obnoxious,” and the slang definition as well: “strikingly good, effective, or skillful.”
For those who aren’t familiar with the colloquialism, its use is confusing. My suggested definition would be: a passionate description for anyone, anyplace or anything.
For instance, the other night as I was leaving writing class, I chatted with a school employee. We conversed about the weather, and she said it had been wicked nice out this past week. I agreed, and as a Mainer myself, I understood that wicked nice meant that we had beautiful weather last week. We Mainers understand the implicit use of the word and its meaning.
It’s appropriate language for casual speech, yet I do not care to use it as much as I do. It isn’t appropriate in all settings. In mixed company, or professional settings, it feels as though I may be misspeaking, and that others may think that as well. I am concerned that I may give the impression of not having a very large vocabulary, or worse, that I lack an education. There are better words to use for effect, but “wicked” habitually tumbles out when I don’t want it to.
It doesn’t reflect who I am anymore; it is the jargon of my youth.
When I was in high school, my friends and I used to say that something or someone was wicked cool, wicked fun, or it was wicked cold or wicked hot outside. Depending on your tone, your peers, your family and most Mainers understood what you meant. It was the perfect word for our youthful enthusiasms or rants.
Now, I hear my own teenage daughter and her friends using it. They say, “Everyone says wicked.” A few of their favorite expressions are: wicked awesome- my daughter’s favorite-wicked sweet, and wicked good. One of her friends defined wicked as an adjective that means “really a lot.”
They complain that they have to explain what wicked means to their friends and relatives who aren’t from Maine. They pride themselves on having this expression all to themselves.
After going to college, working and raising a family, there are times “wicked” still creeps into my casual conversations. It seems acceptable in these situations, like I’m sharing a common bond or heritage. It is not proper in other venues, such as scholarly or professional writing, a job interview, or when meeting someone new, because using it assumes the other person knows what you mean and will accept its casual use.
Even Maine television reporters use wicked when they want to lighten up the usual seriousness of the news. Sometimes they offer a casual style of reporting during the newscast, using Maine-isms to humor the local audience. I have heard weathermen use wicked to describe how cold or hot the weather will be, and I find that to be endearing. I can’t help but smile.
Marketers are creative in using the colloquialism to promote products.
A Maine potato chip manufacturer prints the phrase “wicked good” on the front of their bags to describe how great their potato chips are. I don’t know if it sells more potato chips than the other brands, but I, as a consumer, think it is very clever, catchy and it is Maine. I was lured into buying them for that very reason.
Maine author Stephen King, and comedians Tim Sample and Bob Marley make their living by incorporating the Maine vernacular into their craft. They have benefited from using it both monetarily and famously. It is acceptable because they are trying to be funny.
It’s not that I lack better describing words. Maybe I’m just tired or not really paying attention to what I am trying to say. It’s then that wicked comes bounding from my mouth like a dog out of its pen, only to leave me embarrassed that it got away from me again.
I like being a Mainer but for me, this colloquialism is used best with my family, close friends and fellow Mainers.
Author’s bio: Theresa Gauvin is a wife and the mother of a wonderful teenage daughter. The family lives in Windham. Teresa enjoys gardening, watching movies with her family, swimming and skiing. She is a substitute teacher for the Windham School Department and is currently continuing her education at the University of Southern Maine.
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