You have heard the word “woke” before. Perhaps out of the mouth of a particularly vocal politician, or from your younger cousin. But for a word that gets tossed around constantly, it’s surprisingly unclear what people actually mean when they say it.
So let’s rewind.
The Real Origins of “Woke”
Originally, woke came from Black American vernacular and meant exactly what it sounds like: being awake. As in, aware. Paying attention. Specifically, being conscious of racial injustice and the ways systems can be stacked against people.
One of the earliest recorded uses shows up in the 1930s, when blues musician Lead Belly warned Black Americans to “stay woke” while traveling through the Jim Crow South. Many may use the word to joke around now, but back then, it was a matter of survival.
Fast forward a few decades, and woke continued to circulate within Black communities as shorthand for social awareness. It popped up in journalism in the 1960s, then again in music and culture through the 2000s.
By the time the Black Lives Matter movement gained national attention in the 2010s, stay woke had become commonly used in reference to police brutality, racial violence, and institutional inequality (there’s even a documentary with the name).
Then, the term was bastardized.
What People Use It for Today
As woke entered the mainstream, its meaning started to stretch. What had once been a term rooted in Black experience and social awareness became a vague catch-all for “progressive stuff I don’t like.”
Somewhere along the way, it stopped being a descriptor and started becoming a weapon.
Today, woke can mean anything from “acknowledging racism exists” to “there’s a minority in this movie, and I’m mad about it.” It’s used to lump together discussions of race, gender, climate change, LGBTQ+ rights, history, and corporate HR training, whether or not any of those things have anything to do with each other.
Politicians noticed how useful that vagueness was. Florida Governor Ron DeSantis, for example, has used this nonspecific definition to justify laws restricting how race, gender, and history are discussed in schools and workplaces.
It’s Ultimately Culture War Language
Don’t get me wrong: arguing about whether a cartoon or a beer commercial is “too woke” might feel like harmless culture war theater.
But, the real impact shows up elsewhere: in classrooms where teachers aren’t sure what they’re allowed to say, in libraries pulling books preemptively, and in public conversations that get derailed before they can even begin.
The “magic trick” of woke, as a political cudgel, is that it’s empty enough to absorb whatever fear or resentment you want to pour into it. You don’t have to argue policy. You don’t have to debate facts. You just gesture vaguely at wokeness and let everyone project their own anxieties onto the word.
It becomes a stand-in for real, systemic change. Which is why the endless fight over woke feels so exhausting, not to mention unproductive.
While we’re busy yelling about a four-letter word, we’re not talking about healthcare costs, housing shortages, climate disasters, or why everything may feel more expensive and more precarious than it was 10 years ago.
Perhaps, instead of arguing about whether a given thing is woke or not, we should be asking why we’re being encouraged to argue about the word at all.
