Some of our most common expressions have damaging effects on millions of people and many of us don't know we're hurting others when we speak.

This kind of ableist language is omnipresent in conversation: Making a “dumb”，turning "blind eye" to a problem, calling a boss “psychopathic(精神病）”。And, for the most part, people who utter these phrases aren't intending to hurt anyone-more commonly, they don't have any idea they're engaging in anything hurtful at all.However,for disabled people,these common words can be micro-assaults, they can do real,lasting harm to the people whom these words and phrases undermine(危害） and even the people who use them in daily conversation,too.

This phenomenon, known as “ableism” discrimination based on disability, can take on various forms.Personal ableism might look like name-calling,or committing violence against disabled person, while systemic ableism refers to the inequity disabled people experience as a result of laws and policy.

But ableism can also be indirect.As much as we all like to think we're careful with the words we choose,ableist language is a part of our lexicon(词典）。

If ableist language is so harmful why is it so common? Ableist language functions like any other slang term:People repeat it because they've heard others say it.However,according to University of Louisville linguistics professor D.W.Maurer,while anyone can create slang term,the expression will only "gain currency according to the complete agreement of attitude within the group".

So,how to avoid it? Examining your own go-to phrases and attempting to replace them with less problematic synonyms is a good start."Think about what you mean.Don't just repeat a phrase because you've heard it,think about what you're trying to convey,"says Maurer.Often avoiding ableist language just means choosing more straightforward and literal language-rather than “fall on deaf ears", one might say“ignoring" or “choosing not to engage".

Ma uka, ma uka ka ua,

Ma kai, ma kai ka ua

So sing the children at Hawaiis Punana Leo Hilo kindergarten on the Big Island of Hawaii. The chant is much like any other “Rain, rain, go away” nursery rhyme, but it has an unusual power: it is one of the tools that has brought about the revival(复兴)of a near-dead language.

The decline of Hawaiian was not, as is the case with most disappearing languages, a natural death caused by migration and mass media. In 1896, after the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy (君主政体) by American business interests, schools were banned from using the language, and children were beaten for speaking it. By the late 20th century, aside from a couple of hundred people on one tiny island, English had replaced Hawaiian and only the old spoke the language to each other.

Larry Kimura, a professor there, and his students wanted to bring it back to life. In 1985, when educating children in Hawaiian was still banned, Kauanoe Kamana and her husband Pila Wilson, both students of Kimura's created the first Punana Leo (which means language nest) at Hilo. They gathered together a small group of children and elderly native speakers. The movement grew: there are now 12 kindergartens and 23 schools. The number of children being educated in Hawaiian has risen from 1,877 in 2008 to 3,028 in 2018. Along with Japanese, Hawaiian is the non-English language most commonly spoken among children.

The success has been hard-won. Campaigners had to get the law changed. “People in the community, even in our families, were saying: ‘You'll ruin your children's future. They won't be able to go to college.’ ” Such fears turned out to be unfounded. All the pupils at Nawahi, the main Hawaiian-medium school, complete high school, compared with the state average of 83%; 87% go to college, compared with a state average of 55%.

But academic outcomes are not the primary focus, says Mr. Wilson. “We value our connection with our ancestors more than we value being millionaires,” he says. Mr. Kimura explains that the schools have allowed Hawaiians to pass on their culture.

You are out with a few friends after a long day at the office. You are so relieved to be able to speak freely at last, with as much slang (俚语) as you like. Then another friend joins your group, contributing humorless and grammatically perfect sentences to the conversation. Are you at ease?

If you can imagine yourself in this situation, you can understand how a lot of young people feel when they receive a text with a big period (句号).

For the younger generation, using proper punctuation (标点) in an informal context like texting can give an impression of formality that borders on rudeness. The message-ending period establishes a certain distance. The punctuation is polite when you are speaking to someone older than you or above you at work, but unpleasant among friends. To put it simply, including a formality in informal communication makes people uncomfortable.

Think of a mother using her son’s full name when issuing a serious ultimatum (最后通牒). Or of an upset lover speaking to a partner in a cool, professional tone. People gain and express interpersonal comfort through unpolished self-presentation, and acting (or writing) too formally comes off as cold or distant.

It is also worth noting that more of our informal communication is digital now than ever before, so texting etiquette (礼仪) carries at least as much weight as speaking tone. It is generally accepted that many texters, especially young people, see end-of-message periods as unnecessary. It is clear that a message has ended regardless of its punctuation, because each message is in its own bubble. Thus, the message break has become the default (默认) full-stop.

This pressure to get one’s thoughts across increases when they are aware that the people that they are texting know they are typing—as with speech, both parties in the conversation are responsible for maintaining it To avoid keeping their friends waiting anxiously, therefore, texters send out single, often unpunctuated phrases rather than full sentences.

Adapting to this new custom may be difficult for older texters. However, this is not the first time that writers have repurposed standard punctuation. The new customs surrounding the period are just one episode in a centuries-long history of grammatical exploration.