At this point, parents should probably stop pretending they understand what’s happening inside Gen Alpha’s brains. The latest linguistic headache floating through classrooms and soccer practices across the United States is “6-7” — recently crowned Dictionary.com’s “word” of the year.
Never mind the obvious problem: “6-7” isn’t actually a word. It’s just two numbers stitched together for the sole purpose of driving adults insane. Ask a kid what it means, and you’ll be met with a blank stare and a smirk. Its entire purpose is to annoy, confuse and — more importantly — signal that you’re old.
For childless Americans, “6-7” is just digital noise, something you scroll past on TikTok and forget. But for parents raising status-obsessed 8- to 12-year-olds, it’s practically a new dialect. My own son sprinkles it into conversations like confetti. If the car temperature hits 67°F? Hysterical. His baseball jersey number? 67. Will he regret it when he’s older? Absolutely. But you can’t explain logic to someone whose brain still thinks Pop-Tarts are a food group.
So why are kids saying it?
According to Steven Johnson, director of lexicography at Dictionary Media Group, it’s not about meaning at all — it’s about belonging. Think of it as a group handshake or an inside joke. If adults hate it, that makes it cool.
Which brings us to the problem: teachers are starting to ban the phrase in class. One elementary school teacher in California reportedly shut down the use of “6-7” entirely. But if we learned anything from the 1990s moral panic over Bart Simpson telling people to “eat my shorts,” it’s this — nothing makes a kid want to do something more than forbidding it.
After all, generations giggled at the number 69. At least that had a meaning — albeit an inappropriate one most middle schoolers barely understood. “6-7” is meaningless by design. And maybe that’s why it’s spreading.
Parents are giving this thing power
If we turn every random phrase into contraband, we’re basically teaching kids that anything can become transgressive with enough hype. Tomorrow it could be a nonsense word like “glorp.” What then? Full-scale panic?
Realistically, adults should ask themselves why they want it banned. Because it’s annoying? So is Fortnite music, yet society continues.
Saying “it’s distracting” doesn’t cut it, either. That’s like telling a dog to stop awkwardly air-humping while you’re trying to catch up on Stranger Things. The real answer is simpler: ignore it.
Want it to disappear? Try using it yourself
Kids hate nothing more than adults invading their slang. The fastest way to kill a trend is parental approval. Try whispering “6-7” while dropping your child off at practice. Suggest a “6-7” themed birthday party. Decorate pizza toppings into the shape of the numbers, then upload the photo and tag their friends. Watch their souls disintegrate.
The same trick worked on “YOLO,” “lit,” and “on fleek.” As soon as parents adopted them, teenagers fled.
Every generation had its panic
Boomers feared Elvis’s hips. Gen X parents bristled at MTV. Millennials were told that SpongeBob would rot their brains. And yes, maybe The Apprentice did more lasting damage than Bart Simpson ever could.
Today’s panic is just numbers.
The bottom line
Children will always find ways to rebel. It’s developmentally healthy. Banning random phrases only fuels their power. Instead of acting like our parents did — horrified, exhausted, confused — maybe it’s time to play along.
Because nothing is less cool to an 11-year-old than their mom whispering “6-7” while handing over a Capri Sun.