Latest news with #pronunciation


Daily Mail
13-07-2025
- General
- Daily Mail
People just realizing they've been pronouncing five state names wrong... how to say them correctly
With 50 states in the US it can be hard to remember all of them, and even harder to nail their pronunciations. A recent study showed the top five US states that even Americans can't seem to get right. Preply reported that Americans are just realizing that they don't quite have all 50 nifty memorized, especially when it comes to articulation. They rounded up the top state name pronunciations that Americans search for and the results are a little embarrassing. From east to west and north to south, there are five that no one can seem to get right. Coming in at number five is the sixth state of the 13 original colonies, Massachusetts. Despite being the home of many of America's most prominent historical events, many people are still lost when it comes to just how to say it. The first part of the word is simple, but phonetically speaking the ending should read 'SETTS.' The Chicago River houses one of Illinois's most famous skylines To properly pronounce the state's name the last five letters should be read as 'SITS,' instead. The proper pronunciation is mass-uh-choo-SITS. Fourth on the list was the logic defying state of Illinois. Americans tend to get tripped up around the silent letters at the end of the word. Illinois is a French word for the illini Native American tribes, making its pronunciation frustratingly French as well. While in English, one might want to say il-ee-NOISE, the correct pronunciation is 'il-uh-NOY. One of the US's western-most states comes in at number three. Oregon is apparently a tricky tongue twister for many Americans. In English, the tendency is to pronounce the last three letters like the word 'gone'. But to say the word correctly, the ending should sound like the word 'gun'. The Beaver State can either be said as ORE-uh-gun or ORY-gun, but locals blend the word together and say ORE-uh-g'n. The home of Vegas, deserts, and silver rings in at number two. Nevada's hotly debated pronunciation is often defended by locals, apparently leading to thousands of Google searches from their out of state friends. The mistake non-Nevadans make is pronouncing the middle 'a' as a soft 'VAH'. Unfortunately for those that say otherwise, the true pronunciation for the silver state is nuh-VA-duh. And in first place is the phonetically nightmarish state of Arkansas. With Kansas just a few states over it seems that the obvious pronunciation would be 'are-Kansas'. But frustratingly, that's not even close. Arkansas, like Illinois, derived from a French word and is pronounced as such. The French love to leave out consonant sounds, especially at the end of a word. That makes the true pronunciation AR-kuhn-saw.


Daily Mail
12-07-2025
- General
- Daily Mail
People are just realizing they've been pronouncing 5 state names wrong
With 50 states in the US, it can be hard to remember all of them—and even harder to nail their pronunciations. A recent study showed the top five US states that even Americans can't seem to get right. Preply reported that Americans are just realizing that they don't quite have all 50 nifty memorized, especially when it comes to articulation. They rounded up the top state name pronunciations that Americans search for, and the results are a little embarrassing. From east to west and north to south, there are five that no one can seem to get right. Coming in at number five is the sixth state of the 13 original colonies, Massachusetts. Despite being the home of many of America's most prominent historical events, many people are still lost when it comes to just how to say it. The first part of the word is simple, but phonetically speaking, the ending should read 'SETTS.' To properly pronounce the state's name, the last five letters should be read as 'SITS,' instead. The proper pronunciation is mass-uh-choo-SITS. Fourth on the list was the logic-defying state of Illinois. Americans tend to get tripped up around the silent letters at the end of the word. Illinois is a French word for the Illini Native American tribes, making its pronunciation frustratingly French as well. While in English, one might want to say il-ee-NOISE, the correct pronunciation is 'il-uh-NOY.' One of the US's western-most states comes in at number three. Oregon is apparently a tricky tongue twister for many Americans. In English, the tendency is to pronounce the last three letters like the word 'gone'. But to say the word correctly, the ending should sound like the word 'gun'. The Beaver State can either be said as ORE-uh-gun or ORY-gun, but locals blend the word together and say ORE-uh-g'n. The home of Vegas, deserts, and silver rings in at number two. Nevada's hotly debated pronunciation is often defended by locals, apparently leading to thousands of Google searches from their out-of-state friends. The mistake non-Nevadans make is pronouncing the middle 'a' as a soft 'VAH'. Unfortunately for those that say otherwise, the true pronunciation for the Silver State is nuh-VA-duh.


Daily Mail
30-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Veteran newsreader Jan Leeming, 83, takes swipe at current generation of TV anchors for their 'bad pronunciation, mumbled speech and heavy accents'
She joined the BBC in 1990, a year after Margaret Thatcher got the keys to 10 Downing Street, and was one of a new wave of female news anchors. But Jan Leeming, 83, has taken a swipe at the current generation of newsreaders, criticising their pronunciation, mumbled speech and heavy accents. She wrote on X earlier this month: 'Am I just showing my age being so picky, but surely a national newsreader should be aware of correct pronunciation. 'Just heard "grievious" twice from an ITV newsreader. The word is grievous. The other is mischievious - it's mischievous - three syllables not four. 'We had spelling tests every week. I suppose today one doesn't have to bother. AI and predictive texting will do it all for you. 'You still have to speak with correct pronunciation and clarity. Have given up on mumbled speech and heavy accents and hope I'll get the gist eventually. '"Ss" for the presenters and newsreaders who cannot pronounce fifth and sixth - even some of my favourites. Oh, don't forget February and jewellery. 'If you aren't taught and corrected, then you perpetuate the incorrect pronunciation. And the ubiquitous "like" used every few words by a large proportion of the young. It is lazy.' Alongside her presenting, Ms Leeming has become equally well known for her financial troubles – she only appeared on I'm A Celebrity because she was 'flat broke' – and her cheating husbands. Her post comes after crossbench peer Lord Jones, of Birmingham criticised BBC Olympics presenter Alex Scott for spoiling coverage of the 2020 Games with her accent. 'Enough! I can't stand it anymore!' he wrote on X. 'Alex Scott spoils a good presentational job on the BBC Olympics Team with her very noticeable inability to pronounce her "g"s at the end of a word. 'Can't someone give these people elocution lessons? I fear that it may be aped by youngsters along the lines of the use of the moronic interrogative originally caused by "Neighbours"; on behalf of the English Language ... Help!' And two years ago, BBC newsreader Nick Owen pronounced Jay Z's name wrongly on an episode of Midlands Today, saying Jay Zed rather than Jay Zee. Leeming's post attracted more than 236,000 hits, prompting her to write: 'Goodness Gracious Me (think Peter Sellars....) 'Can't believe it - 236K hits on my comments about incorrect pronunciation! Really did stir up a hornets' nest. At least I'm not alone. NIGHT NIGHT ALL.' She even hinted at her dislike for deputy PM Angela Rayner, nicknamed Two Homes Rayner, who has a strong Mancunian accent. Responding to a tweet which said: 'If it's good enough for the Dep PM - nucleer - then it must be okay,' she replied: 'Please don't go down that road. I could be locked up for my opinion of that person.' Leeming, voted TV personality of the year after she presented the 1982 Eurovision Song Contest, sparked outrage last year after she complained she no longer got work because she was too 'old', spoke RP and didn't tick 'modern boxes'. She later clarified on GB News that she didn't mean that she was too posh for TV. 'I'm not posh,' she said. 'I grew up in Southeast London - Woolwich. My father had had a wonderful education in India and he spoke beautifully. 'He sounded a little bit like Richard Burton. And when I started sort of, you know, "talking like that", he sent me to speech and drama lessons. Thank you very much, father, because I've earned my living. 'What this follower was saying was basically that he could understand me; I enunciate. I'm not against accents, not at all. In fact, some of them are very endearing. 'I mean, I love Eamonn Holmes, and you know Gloria Hunniford, when she started 40 odd years ago, had a very strong Northern Ireland accent and she moderated it.'


The Verge
09-06-2025
- Business
- The Verge
Posted Jun 9, 2025 at 3:40 PM EDT
Nilay Patel Well, here's this. In case you're wondering, Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi's last name is pronounced 'kos-row-shah-hee,' which is, of course, exactly how it's spelled.


Telegraph
31-05-2025
- General
- Telegraph
‘Despite the headlines, 'mischeevious' is not considered standard English'
'Mischievous'. It's a word that has come to define my week in quite unexpected ways, ever since I happened to answer a question from an audience member at the wonderful Hay Festival about changes to English that I find annoying. I explained that one bugbear I have recently overcome was the increasing use of the pronunciation 'mischeevious', since I have come to see the rationale for the change and to acknowledge its place in a long history of sound shifts that, for a lexicographer at least, are interesting to observe. The result was a right linguistic foofaraw, thanks to many a mischievous headline claiming I now consider 'mischeevious' to be entirely acceptable. I'm hoping I can set the record a little straighter now. The first thing to say is that a lexicographer's job is to chart the trajectory of words as they evolve. We are describers, not prescribers, of language, despite the understandable desire of many for some form of linguistic government. English has no equivalent to L'Académie française, a body that attempts to preside over the French language. English has always been an entirely democratic affair, subject to the will of the people, and it is inevitable that some of the changes it undergoes will prove irksome along the way. The fact that many of us are messing with the sound of 'mischievous' is clearly one. Despite the headlines, it is most definitely not considered standard English: in fact Oxford's dictionary of contemporary English offers unusually firm guidelines as to its usage: 'Mischievous is a three-syllable word. It should not be pronounced with four syllables with the stress on the second syllable, as if it were spelled mischievious'. Why, then, are we changing it? Is there any method to our madness? The answer involves a process that has informed linguistic evolution for centuries. In the case of 'mischievous', which comes from the Old French meschever, 'to come to an unfortunate end', the '-ievous' ending of the adjective is coming under the influence of such words as 'devious'. In the same way, it is becoming rare these days to hear reports of 'grievous bodily harm': I have heard 'grievious bodily harm' at least three times on news reports just this weekend. This is far from the only example of changing pronunciation, as readers will know all too well. 'Pacifically' and 'nucular' are two other repeat offenders. In the case of the former, 'pacifically' (already in the dictionary meaning 'peacefully'; the Pacific Ocean is the 'Peaceful Ocean') is judged by some to be easier to say, while the shift to 'nucular' brings it closer to such words as 'molecular' and 'secular' – there are fewer common words in current English ending with '-lear', with the exception perhaps of 'cochlear'. In each of these cases, familiarity seems to the catalyst. Similarly, it seems most people feel on 'tenderhooks' these days, rather than 'tenterhooks'. The latter were once a common feature in cloth-manufacturing districts, for they were wooden frames erected in rows in the open air on 'tenter-fields'. Wet cloth would be hooked onto them to be stretched after milling, allowing it dry evenly without shrinkage. Metaphorically, to be on tenterhooks is to be as taut, tense, and in suspense as the wool itself. Today, tenters are no longer a feature of our countryside, resulting in 'tenderhooks' being chosen for the job instead. I of course regret the loss of the story behind such words, but the joy of etymology is digging beneath the surface to discover these treasures of the past. Lest you feel your blood pressure rising already, there is some reassurance in the fact that such shifts are nothing new. If you've ever wondered what a Jerusalem artichoke has to do with Jerusalem, the answer is absolutely nothing: the name arose because English speakers in the 16th century struggled with the Italian word 'girasole', which means 'sunflower' (the Jerusalem artichoke is a heliotrope). It sounded a little like 'Jerusalem', so they plumped for that instead. At the same time, 'asparagus' must have proved equally challenging, for English speakers some 400 years ago decided to call it 'sparrowgrass' instead. The expression a 'forlorn hope' is a mangling of the Dutch 'verloren hoop', or 'lost troop', describing the vanguard of an army that fell in battle. It's hard to deny that there is poetry in our substitution. Slips of the tongue and ear are more common than you might think. Such words as 'umpire', 'apron', 'adder', and 'nickname' are the direct result of mistaken assumptions, for they began respectively as a 'noumpere', a 'napron', and a 'nadder'. In each case the 'n' drifted over to the 'a', since when spoken out loud it was hard to tell which word the letter belonged to. There are dozens more examples. 'Teeny' is an alteration of 'tiny', 'innards' is a take on 'inwards', 'manhandle' is a semi-logical riff on 'mangle', and 'tootsie' represents a child's delivery of 'footsie'. Other words that once wore their hearts on their sleeves have changed their sounds completely: a cupboard was pronounced with 'cup' and 'board' fully intact; only later did we decide it was a 'cubbard'. A 'ward-robe', or 'keeper of robes', is now more usually a 'war-drobe2. And let's not even start with a process known as 'haplology', where a word's syllable is swallowed entirely: who pronounces 'February' with the middle 'r' these days? You're more likely to hear 'probably' as 'probly', too, and a 'library' as a 'libry'. Even our idioms have taken a strange turn over the centuries. Why does 'head over heels' describe being upended by love when this is our regular bodily position? The answer is that the original was 'heels over head', meaning to turn a somersault, but at some point in the phrase's history the idiom was mistakenly (and fittingly) turned upside down. None of these changes mean we should no longer care. The opposite, in fact, for having bugbears means we are passionate about our words and wish to protect their beauty and clarity. What's more, when we mangle them, we run the risk of distracting our audience, and losing our meaning in the process. But it also feels important to know that language – and English in particular – has always been unpredictable and occasionally erratic, changing as its users wish it to, even if that is occasionally by mistake. I'll finish with one request: please don't shoot the messenger. I'm beginning to realise that there is a reason why I am occasionally called a 'minefield' of information.