By Alex Herbach

Sometimes it's the words that aren't in the dictionary that say the most about our language. NorCal native Alex Herbach explores a cultural phenomenon and linguistic rite of passage.

According to Webster’s Dictionary, the word “hella” does not mean anything. It does not mean “nothing” in the sense that it is a synonym for “nil,” but it does not mean anything because it’s not actually listed in the Webster’s Dictionary. Sandwiched between “hell” and “hell-bent” we find only “hellbender,” a large aquatic salamander of the Ohio River Valley. Why, then, is a word that is not actually a valid member of our official lexicon so ubiquitous to everyday conversation? Like many things that define themselves by being indefinable, “hella” can be understood by listening to the people who use it.

The Directive

The best way to describe “hella” is self-referentially — “hella” is a hella complicated word. But before we can delve further into the word’s nature, we first must understand and accept The Directive. The Directive is the most important thing to understand if you ever want to fully know “hella”: never under any circumstance use “hella” to modify any word that isn’t cool.

“Hella” is so popular because it is cool and, as we all know, “cool” is the greatest power in life. As such, if you try and mix its coolness with things that are not cool (like big words, pocket protectors, math, or Celine Dion) society will collapse and the fabric of space-time will implode. Above all else, “hella” is a conversational word that is meant to be used in the casual environments of the quad but never in the serious surrounding of an honors English class. For instance, if my friend Axl were to talk about the exhilaration he felt when he found a twenty dollar bill in his lunch and I responded, “Damn, that’s hella serendipitous,” I would be answered in turn with a firm slap across my mouth. But if we rewound that scene and I instead responded with a slow, deep-toned, “Damn, that’s hella awesome,” I would be rewarded with the silent nods of approval that define friendship, and more importantly, being cool. (Incidentally, if I substituted the word “helluva,” Axl would think I was his grandfather and get hella freaked.)