LINGUISTIC ROOTS

What's the origin of the word "tomato"?

Image: Boston Public Library

The rich tapestry of Native American languages has woven itself into the linguistic fabric of modern English. From everyday words to the names of places and people, Native American contributions are ubiquitous yet often overlooked.

Let's explore thirteen instances where Native American languages left an indelible mark on the English language.

Image: Avin CP

The undisputed king of salads everywhere is a plant native to South and Central America, so it should come as no surprise that its name shares the same geographical origin, too. This plump, umami-rich berry was first domesticated by the indigenous people of Mexico, who called it tomatl, literally meaning "swelling fruit." As with many indigenous words, it was slightly altered when it was assimilated into the English language, becoming the familiar tomato.

Image: Joshua J. Cotten

This medium-sized mammal native to North America derives its modern name from the Algonquian arahkun, meaning "animal that scratches with its hands." Kind of a cute name if you ask me! The word went through many successive translations, from the original Algonquian word to interpretations like _raugroughcum_—that sort of sounds like a growling animal, you gotta give it to them—to arocoun around the year 1600, before eventually settling as raccoon.

Image: SaiKrishna Saketh Yellapragada

Grab your oars and get ready to paddle into the rivers of language because canoe is also a word of Native American origin! It comes from the Arawakan canaoua, and it refers to the dugout boats made by the indigenous inhabitants of what now is Haiti. It first came into English from the Spanish version of the word canoa. Afterward, the word went through many variations, like cano and canow, before settling in the modern spelling.

Image: Tarah Dane

The term moccasin, referring to a comfy type of soft leather shoe, has its roots in the Algonquian word makasin, meaning "shoe." While the versatile footwear has a Native American origin, it transcended cultural boundaries, finding utility as the footwear of various indigenous North American communities, as well as hunters, traders, and European settlers.

Image: Alexey Demidov

The term hurricane has a fascinating linguistic journey, originating in the Spanish term huracan, itself derived from an Arawakan word. As with many Native American words, it first came to English through Spanish during the Age of Exploration.

According to the Taino people, indigenous to the Caribbean, Huricán was a god of destruction linked to wind, storm, and fire. Spanish explorers in the Caribbean adopted the term as huracán, eventually evolving into the modern hurricane by the 16th century.

Image: Virgil Cayasa

First domesticated by the indigenous inhabitants of Mexico about 10,000 years ago, maize (i.e. corn) remains a staple food to this day, with its total production even surpassing that of wheat and rice. The word maize comes from the Spanish adaptation of the indigenous Taino term mahiz. Although it is more commonly called corn in the United States, most countries derive their word for the crop from the Taino term. Botanist Carl Linnaeus even incorporated it into the species name, Zea mays.

Image: Timothy K

Just like a real-life mangrove growing in brackish water, languages thrive in complex environments! And the etymology of mangrove is no exception, as it likely entered English through Portuguese mangue or Spanish mangle. However, its etymological roots delve deeper into South American and Caribbean indigenous languages, such as Taino. While some suggest a Malay origin, the use of the term for the American plant at that time remains challenging to explain.

Image: Austin Neill

The etymology of buccaneer is quite intriguing, originating from the Caribbean Arawak word buccan. This term referred to the wooden frames used by the indigenous people of the region for the slow-roasting or smoking of meat. You might wonder, how exactly did this term end up being used to refer to 18th-century privateers? Well, originally, the designation applied to landless hunters on the islands who were adept at smoking meat in the Caribbean way. As local corsairs often bought their smoked goods, the term eventually expanded to encompass the corsairs and privateers themselves.

Image: Estevao Gedraite

A savanna, a woodland-grassland mix with widely spaced trees, gets its name from the Spanish sabana, also borrowed from the Taino language, meaning "treeless grassland." The change in pronunciation of the letter b from Taino to Spanish carried over into English, becoming a v. In the U.S., particularly in Florida, "savannah" historically referred to the low-lying marshy ground since the 1670s, with the term "savannah-grass" documented by 1756. To be fair, the Taino people really made a huge contribution to our modern vocabulary!

Image: Jenn Kosar

The name of this coveted snack actually comes from the Portuguese caju, derived from the Tupian word acajú, meaning "nut that produces itself." What does that mean, exactly? We’re not sure. But what's clear is that cashews, despite their colloquial classification as nuts, are not true nuts but rather a type of drupe, akin to olives and dates. As you finish this read, consider indulging in some cashews—not only are they a delightful snack, but they also offer many brain-boosting benefits!

Image: Joshua Sukoff

The seemingly strange term caucus, signifying a political gathering, likely first originated in the British colonies of North America, notably Boston. While its etymology is debated, one of the leading theories links it to the Algonquian caucauasu, meaning "counselor." Others suggest a connection to the Greek word kaukos, meaning "drinking cup," in connection to private drinking clubs.

Image: Danny de Jong

Are you ready to grill? Well, the Arawak peoples of the Caribbean are! The English word barbecue and its counterparts in various other languages have their roots in the Spanish term barbacoa, which, in turn, happens to originate from an Arawak word, barabicu. The words can be roughly translated as a "framework of sticks set upon posts," technically what we would now call a grill.

Image: Abigail Lynn

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck? Probably not much. But did you know that the word for the beloved woodchuck (also known as a groundhog) stems from an Algonquian word? The etymology of the name woodchuck is completely unrelated to wood or chucking, and instead is derived from the Algonquian name for the animal: wuchak. The amusing twist in the name's origins might be attributed to a misunderstanding of the original name, or maybe just the work of a prankster. In any case, it stuck.

Slang on the tracks

Ten words railroaders invented that you still use to this day

Railroads changed America. They hauled manufactured goods, spare parts, mail, and millions of everyday folks across a country that used to take weeks to cross on foot or wagon. But railroading also built its own tight-knit culture, complete with its own slang. Take highball, the old signal for "all clear, full speed ahead," or caboose, that funny little car that used to trail every freight train. Both are still tossed around today, decades after steam gave way to diesel. Here are 10 more terms that show just how colorful railroad talk really was.

Around the late 1800s, American rail yards used a big wooden ball hoisted up a pole. When the ball was raised high, it meant the track ahead was clear, and the train could go full speed. Crews started saying "highball it," and the phrase stuck around long after those ball signals disappeared, replaced by colored lights.

Today, "highball" still means "go for it, full speed," even outside railroading.

This term goes back to 1800s American railroading. It described a worker riding a train without actually being on duty for that trip, just catching a ride to reach their next assignment. The term later jumped the rails entirely, showing up in airline talk ("deadhead flights") and everyday business slang for anything moved without generating revenue, like an empty return trip.

Nobody's totally sure where this one came from, but many word-history experts trace it back to a Dutch sailing term, "kombuis," meaning a ship's kitchen. Somehow, that crossed over into American railroading in the 1800s to describe the little car at the back of a freight train where the crew ate, slept, and kept watch.

Cabooses mostly vanished by the 1980s thanks to new tracking tech, but the word lives on in memory.

First recorded around 1918, this nickname described the crews who laid and maintained track by hand, before machines took over. Nobody agrees on where "gandy" came from—a popular but unproven story blames a Chicago tool company—but the "dancer" part makes sense: workers moved in rhythmic, coordinated steps, often guided by a caller singing out the beat, much like old work songs.

Old-time locomotives, especially the big freight-hauling kind, got nicknamed "hogs" by rail crews sometime in the 1800s. Naturally, the men who drove them became "hoggers," or sometimes "hogheads." It's a good-natured, slightly teasing nickname, the kind railroaders loved tossing at each other.

You'll still hear "hogger" used by old-timers and rail buffs today when talking about engineers.

This one didn't actually start on the railroad. It came from the 19th-century British military, where high-ranking officers wore caps trimmed in gold braid, or "brass." The nickname spread to American business and railroading by the early 1900s, where it became a common, half-joking way to refer to the company president or top bosses, the folks calling the shots from a comfortable office.

This newer term describes a railfan so excited about trains that they practically "foam at the mouth," snapping photos and chasing locomotives with total enthusiasm. Nobody agrees exactly how it started; some blame the foam scenery hobbyists use for model railroads, others say it's just about that over-the-top excitement.

First showing up in American newspapers around 1903 to 1905, a "shoofly" is a temporary track built to route trains around a blocked section, like a landslide or construction site. The name likely just comes from "shoo" plus "fly": basically waving traffic out of the way.

It's sometimes mixed up with the old molasses shoofly pie or a Civil War-era song of the same name, but there's no real evidence those are connected.

Despite the funny name, a frog has nothing to do with amphibians directly; it's the X-shaped metal piece at a track junction that lets train wheels cross from one rail to another. Railroaders started using the term in the 1800s, likely because the casting's shape reminded someone of a frog's splayed legs.

Railroaders took the everyday verb "to consist of" and flipped it into a noun sometime in the 1900s. A train's "consist" is simply its lineup: how many locomotives, freight cars, or passenger cars are hooked together, and in what order. It's a small grammatical trick, but it's stuck around as standard railroad shorthand ever since.