Barnard/Columbia, Class of 2014 "Ephemeral (adj.) - fleeting" By Carmen Ren Ever since I first read this word, it has become my favorite. I mangled its pronunciation with my naive tongue. (I mangle most of my polysyllabic words because I had no one to correct me before the incorrect pronunciation settled. I have given up throwing "big words" into my sentences.) According to the Oxford Online Dictionary, the word ephemeral (pronounced e-phem-er-al) originates from the 16th century as derived from the Greek word ephemeros, meaning "lasting only a day." Ephemera's origin also dates back to the late 16th century as the plural of ephemeron, which is an insect that only lives for a few days. The origin of this word loops right back to the Greek word ephemeros. Ephemeral is often used to describe things found in nature - wetlands or lakes that only appear after rainfall and then evaporate; islands like the Banua Wuhu and the Home Reef that rise out of the sea due to volcanic activity but are submerged again by wave erosion. But now, it's meaning has expanded to objects, ideas, even feelings. I initially pronounced ephemeral e-phe-meer-al rather than e-phem-er-al. My pronunciation was softer, dreamier; I stressed less the "ph" and "m" sounds, leaving only the murmur-y "e"s and the gentle leave of the "al." When I finally discovered the true pronunciation, I felt betrayed by what I had come to believe was my word (I had, of course, taken possession of it through simple admiration). I abhorred the stronger stresses of the "ph" and the "m," thought it sexist and offensive that the "phem" of the world now sounded like the "fem" of female. It wasn't pretty anymore. The pronunciation of the word had been its very charm, how perfectly the whispered letters seemed to convey the meaning of the word itself, of something tangible yet fleeting, of something impermanent. The word, released by tongue curves and lip forms, drifted lightly through the air, like smoke, thinning out, evaporating, leaving me to wonder if the word ever existed at all. I've since recovered from my resentment of ephemeral's real pronunciation. Whenever I enunciate it's letters, pressing my lips to force out the "m," I can't help but feel a slight twinge of pity for the world and the history of language for having missed a better path.