WORD WATCH: NICE, Reclaiming Meaning Beyond the Mundane
Maybe the most important lesson in how to choose words wisely was taught to me on the first day of 10th grade by Ms. M, the legendary English teacher at the all-boys yeshiva I attended that year.
When she returned our first essays, every single one of us had received an F.
“Each and every one of you wrote the word ‘nice’ at least once—if not more—in your lazy essays,” her voice boomed across the classroom. “Take that word ‘nice’, put a bow on it, and throw it straight into the East River. Find more interesting adjectives.”
I remember it precisely, word for word.
Ms. M may have been taking a cue from Jane Austen, who in her 1817 novel Northanger Abbey famously mocked the word. “Nice” had originated from the Latin nescius—meaning “ignorant” or “unaware”—and by the 19th century had dissolved into something bland and slippery. As one of Austen’s characters sarcastically remarks:
“…and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk, and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh, it is a very nice word, indeed!—it does for everything.”
Ever since 10th grade, I’ve tried to avoid using ‘nice’—even steering clear of the reflexive “have a nice day”—reaching instead for words that are more specific, original, and meaningful. It doesn’t always land well.
It’s not that pleasantness isn’t needed in a world often marked by cruelty and menace. But as we trek through this journey to heal the words that cause us anguish, it feels right to also examine the ones that render us asleep at the wheel—the words that are sometimes too mundane, lame, tired, or lazy.
“Nice” is often a polite shield. It lets us nod without engaging, compliment without seeing, and pass by without connecting. But as we prepare for a new year of intention, we need words that wake us up.
So many juicy adjectives that would make Ms. M and Jane Austen proud.
How might we greet each other’s presence if we traded autopilot politeness for real presence?
The Shift: Today, put “nice” on sabbatical. Notice every time you are about to use it—whether describing a meal, a person, a view, or a gesture—and pause. Force yourself to find one specific, vibrant adjective that honors what is actually there. Replace “Have a nice day” with another wish or appreciation?
