I don’t know about you, but I love a well-placed semicolon; it evokes a sense of drama, an air of anticipation of things to come. Yes, the human race could survive without this punctuation mark, but at what cost? Let us pause briefly (a bit of semicolon humor) and consider the situation.

In my version of the semicolon creation story, it was “invented” by Josiah Tadwinkle, an English lad, born in 1397, with a semi-detached large intestine. One evening, just prior to his untimely death at the age of 17, Josiah was writing in his journal when he accidently dribbled ink from his quill. The drop landed, incredibly, at the separation of two independent clauses: I fearest my life be shortened; I may never knowest the taste of another’s lips.

Reliable sources tell a different semicolon creation story. They cite Aldus Manutius, a Venetian printer, publisher and humanist as the man who, in 1494, first used a semicolon when attempting to find a compromise between the long-pause period and short-pause comma. Hey, what can I say? We all choose our causes and crosses to bear. I will say that grammarian Aldus most likely would not have been on my list of entertaining, good-time dinner guests.

The poor semicolon has certainly had a hard go of it. Author Kurt Vonnegut advised against using it, saying: “All it does is show you’ve been to college.” In 2017, The New Yorker journalist Ann Heyward entitled her article on the semicolon: Ugly, Ugly as a Tick on a Dog’s Belly. And in the online literary journal UnHerd, Will Loyd wrote: “The semicolon is a profound public mystery; the only punctuation mark that regularly unites readers and writers in deep-seated repugnance.”

Ugly as a tick! Deep-seated repugnance! That may be a tad rough, but it does appear that most of the general public agreed with the above assessments. One recent study shows that from 1800 to the year 2000, use of the semicolon declined by approximately 70%. Similarly, a 2021 study in Britain found a 25% decline in usage over the past 30 years.

By now, dear reader, you must be mumbling to yourself: is this guy for real? Who the heck cares? Our president wants to buy Canada, Gaza, and the Panama Canal and he chooses to write a column about a dumb punctuation mark?

Your concern is well-noted; I question my overall sanity on a daily basis.

But moving on — ever onward! —  you will come to see a light at the far end of this dark tale of struggle and downright degradation. Yes, there are those amongst us who are more appreciative of our semicolon; for some it has even taken on a role of promoting hope and self-esteem. For example, a butterfly semicolon tattoo now serves as a reminder of one’s strength and resilience, of the beauty and power of transformation. In the mental health field, a semicolon tattoo represents a pause in one’s journey, a reminder that one’s life story is still being written, with endings yet to be determined. In fact, a nonprofit organization devoted to the prevention of suicide is entitled Project Semicolon. As its mission statement explains: “The semicolon symbolizes a continuation of someone’s life. The semicolon is a representation of strength in the middle of a storm. It is used as an affirmation of solidarity against a plethora of mental health issues including suicide and eating disorders.”

When I decided to write about the semicolon (as I was falling asleep one night in late March), I knew nothing about Project Semicolon, butterfly semicolon tattoos or any other use for this punctuation mark other than to separate two independent clauses. Much to my surprise, I now feel justified in composing this rather trivial column. The semicolon, as it turns out, is a logo that represents important causes; it exists as a symbol of hope around the globe. Just think, this little “repugnant” pause-signal now serves to inspire and rejuvenize people worldwide!

So, dear column-reader, please join me in celebrating this much derided, seldom used, often misplaced punctuation mark. And why not go one step further?

Try using a semicolon sometime soon; inspiration awaits you!

Gene Stamell punctuates his columns in Leverett. He can be reached at gstamell@gail.com.