(Collection of invented words submitted this year to the Crazy Collaborative Dictionary project)
I admit: Out of curiosity, I fell into the trap of asking Claude to analyze a project that I have overseen for more than 20 years, with my sixth graders inventing new words.
This Crazy Collaborative Dictionary project — which I have written about before — had been part of an inquiry into the Origins of the English Language until this past school year, when we moved to a new district curriculum and my independence was a bit curtailed. But I did find time to get my kids to submit words this year, anyway. And now that I am retired from teaching, this year is the last year of this project.
You can view an archive of the dictionary project here: https://dogtraxwrites.com/crazy-collaborative-dictionary-project-archive/
I asked Claude to do a deep dive and analyze any threads that seemed interesting. Here is it’s response, with a note that the byebyebyebye word is actually mine, not one by a student.
What a treasure trove. I’ve read deeply through the archive now, and there’s a lot to unpack across ~1,400 words spanning 2005–2026. Here’s what jumps out:
The Big Picture: What Are Kids Actually Doing?
Students are operating in a handful of recurring creative modes, often without knowing it. These aren’t random — they’re predictable cognitive moves that tell you a lot about how children this age process and play with language.
1. Backwards Words as a Word-Making Strategy
There’s a striking cluster of words formed by simply reversing a real word. Students have independently rediscovered this trick across multiple years:
- Cisum (2005) — music
- Ecnad (2006) — dance
- Elppa (2005) — apple
- Ahsatan (2006) — dreaming (natasha? a name reversed?)
- Ailuj, Airotciv, Acituan — likely names backwards (Julia, Victoria, Naticia)
- Eciuj (2017) — juice
- Elgoog (2016) — Google (meaning “to find something that was lost”)
- Licnep (2017) — pencil
- Drawkcabology (2013) — “the study of backwards writing” (meta!)
- Esrever (2025) — reverse
- Esrohdnilb (2025) — blind horse backwards
- Dniwer (2025) — rewind
What’s lovely is that Drawkcabology is a student naming the very thing they’re all doing — and then there’s Esrever (2025) and Dniwer (2025) appearing decades later, suggesting this is a strategy students figure out independently every generation, not just from seeing prior examples.
2. The Taxonomy of Imaginary Diseases
Roughly 15–20% of all entries are invented diseases, conditions, and phobias. Kids are particularly drawn to this form — perhaps because a disease feels authoritative, like something you’d really find in a dictionary. The conditions tend to fall into sub-categories:
Silly physical conditions:
- Fohan (2009) — a foot where your hand should be and vice versa
- Fingerlashitis (2019) — fingernails become eyelashes and vice versa
- Annahypoism (2015) — makes you hyper until you die
- Globeitis (2021) — hives if you go near a globe
Behavioral compulsions:
- MicMonic (2010) — makes you sing really loud in the shower
- Googleitis (2019) — asking all problems on Google
- Squishmania (2019) — addicted to squishies
- Fortnitephymonia (2024) — addicted to Fortnite
Portmanteau fears (phobias):
- Clownophobia (2007), Scabiphobia (2008), Dannydevitoyeetusphobia (2022), Thanksphobia (2023), Flak-o-phobia (2023)
The phobia entries in particular show kids learning Latin/Greek suffix patterns and having tremendous fun with them. Dannydevitoyeetusphobia (the fear of Danny DeVito throwing you off a cliff) is essentially perfect.
3. Hybrid Animals: The Dominant Creature-Making Formula
Combining two animals is one of the most popular invention strategies, appearing in every year:
- Monkey + giraffe → Bailmonkraffe (2009)
- Dog + bear → Abermama (2008)
- Bunny + hamster → Bunster (2016)
- Cat + dog → Cog (2015), Conoge (2011)
- Cow + turtle → Cowtle (2008)
- Mermaid + pig → Merpig (2007)
- T-rex + elephant → Rexephant (2017)
- Monkey + elephant → Monkphant (2015)
There’s even a multi-combo: Flabberdootle (2012) — a platypus, walrus, dragon, and alligator. The biological creativity here is unbounded. Students instinctively understand that portmanteau names signal hybrid concepts.
4. The Food Combination Obsession
Food mashups are a perennial favorite, reflecting what sixth graders think about constantly:
- Chaksta (2011) — chocolate pasta
- Pizpie (2014) — pizza + pie
- Spash (2010) — spaghetti + squash
- Paffle (2014) — pancake or waffle (brilliant in its simplicity — the choice is the concept)
- Panaffle (2017) — pancake + waffle (solved it)
- Sproke (2016) — Sprite + Coke
- Nachochino / Cropachino (2009) — nacho/corn-flavored coffee
- Cogurt (2018) — cold yogurt
- Colup (2018) — cold soup
- Graple (2010) — grape + apple
The coffee variations in 2009 are particularly funny as a cluster — likely the same class exploring a theme together.
5. Technology as a Mirror of the Times
The dictionary functions like a cultural time capsule of what technology meant to kids in each era:
- 2005–2007: Dulope (talking elevator), Lolet (robot that does homework), Krowemohbot (homework robot), Homebot (household robot) — the robot fantasy is dominant
- 2008–2010: Smada (person on computer 24/7), Intie (a small internet), Stavico (watching television)
- 2011–2013: Gumputer (computer made of gum), Chucksterpod (throwing your iPod at a wall)
- 2014–2018: Facebook (reading a book close to your face), references to iPhones
- 2019–2022: Cellfish (talking on the phone), Clickshen (clicking too many things)
- 2023–2026: Fortnite appears seven times — Allfortniter, Etintrof, Fortnitephymonia, Fortsests, Bughady, Rorage (Roblox raging), Skibidisymdrome — the full internet meme era arrives
The word Antiphonism appears in both 2006 (“against phones”) and 2019 (“against listening to sound”) — independently coined, same concept, showing how phone anxiety spans generations but shifts meaning.
6. The “-ology” Suffix as a Joke Vehicle
Students love constructing fake academic disciplines. The longer and more absurd, the better:
- Clapology (2012) — the study of clapping
- Hyperscriptpsychology (2007) — the study of excitedly writing about the mind and soul
- Drawkcabology (2013) — the study of backwards writing
- Micropsychism (2018) — small mind full of mischief
- Pieology (2015) — the study of pie
- Redlabibology (2017) — the study of horses and ponies
- Microgreekotallapedology (2017) — the study of tall-footed, small Greeks
- Geoultrathermalologists (2010) — people who study high ground temperatures
- Polymicrogeobibliology (2007) — study of many small earth books
The longer the chain of Greek/Latin roots, the more authoritative it sounds, and students have clearly absorbed this from school. Some of these are nearly indistinguishable from real scientific terms.
7. Body-Function Combo Words: A Proud Tradition
This is consistent across every single year of the archive. The body-function portmanteau never dies:
- Canese (2006) — cough + sneeze
- Blurk (2005) — burp while talking
- Shusam (2005) — burp + hiccup
- Hiccsnbow (2010) — sneeze + burp + hiccup + throwing up simultaneously
- Cwong (2012) — cough + yawn
- Chekeeza (2019) — cough + wheeze
- Snart (2017) — sneeze + fart
- Burart (2017) — burp + fart
- Burpsnurt (2017) — burp + fart + sneeze
- Snoughip (2017) — sneeze + cough + hiccup
- Bombomclap (2026) — fart + burp + sneeze simultaneously
The 2017 cohort in particular seems to have had a very enthusiastic body-function era. And Bombomclap in 2026 suggests the tradition is alive and well 21 years later.
8. The “Falling” Cluster
A disproportionate number of words describe the specific act of falling, tripping, or failing to maintain balance — possibly reflecting a universal sixth-grade preoccupation with awkwardness and embarrassment:
- Abamao (2012) — tripping for no reason and being congratulated
- Cabooble (2013) — fall or trip over air
- Flofing (2011) — falling for no reason
- Flurble (2006) — running into walls or windows
- Tripoozle (2015) — tripping over nothing (you then test that gravity is working)
- Norasticously (2017) — tripping over nothing
- Lamo (2018) — tripping and falling out the window
- Nave (2012) — trip over shoelace and face-plant
- Remmihs (2015) — slipping, falling, hitting your head
The specificity is wonderful. Tripoozle in particular has a whole epistemological theory built in — when you trip over nothing, the rational response is to run a gravity check.
9. Words That Reinvent Real Words (Often Unknowingly)
Some of the invented words have real counterparts in other languages or dialects, which students would have no way of knowing:
- Bloke (2007) — “a person acting silly or weird” — already British English for “a guy”
- Jank (2009) — “stupid; unfair” — this is actual contemporary slang (students may have been ahead of mainstream usage)
- Meh (2012) — “expressing feelings of disturbance” — already in wide use
- Liger (2007) — “a lion and tiger mixed that hops” — already the real word for that hybrid
- Ginormous (2023) — already a widely-used portmanteau of “gigantic” and “enormous”
- Funner (2013, 2016) — coined twice by different cohorts; this is an ongoing grammar debate
10. The Meta-Dictionary Entry
The most delightful single entry may be:
Byebyebyebye (2026) — Words spoken out loud by an ELA teacher who is retiring from Norris Elementary School.
That’s the students writing the teacher into the dictionary. The whole 21-year project folded into one word, timestamped at the end.
A Few Closing Observations
The emotional range is narrow but deep. Most words cluster around: confusion, falling, hybrid creatures, food, and body functions. Very few words address sadness, longing, love, or fear in earnest — though Unselfdeplira (2014) (“unable to be yourself around others because you’re scared you won’t be perfect”) is a quietly profound exception.
The very long words are a consistent power move. From Aheolaphoalamprosolpooslopeleroadeasoloper (2005) to Aacklewakleshmaklebaitmatefaitnatelateinforintilkjghipikoplintinbinlintfingibblesssshintin (2026), kids have always understood that a word’s length can itself be a joke. The latter means simply “hi.”
Drow gets reinvented independently in 2005, 2014, and 2023 — three different students, three different years, the same word (“being asked a question you can’t answer” vs. “saying a word backwards”). The archive is full of these quiet collisions.
What a project. Two decades of sixth-graders trying to make language, and in doing so, making a pretty good record of what it felt like to be eleven.
I enjoyed this analysis, more than I should have, perhaps. Claude went in directions I hadn’t even thought of.
Peace (make the word true),
Kevin
