How All 50 States Got Their Names

Buckle up: We’re about to take an etymological road trip across the country, tackling the origins of all 50 state names (and Washington, D.C.) in alphabetical order.

Are Georgia the state and Georgia the country named after the same thing? What does the name Idaho have to do with Colorado? And what’s so weird about the moniker New Mexico? Read on to find out.

1. Alabama
2. Alaska
3. Arizona
4. Arkansas
5. California
6. Colorado
7. Connecticut
8. Delaware
9. Florida
10. Georgia
11. Hawaii
12. Idaho
13. Illinois
14. Indiana
15. Iowa
16. Kansas
17. Kentucky
18. Louisiana
19. Maine
20. Maryland
21. Massachusetts
22. Michigan
23. Minnesota
24. Mississippi
25. Missouri
26. Montana
27. Nebraska
28. Nevada
29. New Hampshire
30. New Jersey
31. New Mexico
32. New York
33. North and South Carolina
34. North and South Dakota
35. Ohio
36. Oklahoma
37. Oregon
38. Pennsylvania
39. Rhode Island
40. Tennessee
41. Texas
42. Utah
43. Vermont
44. Virginia and West Virginia
45. Washington and Washington, D.C. 
46. Wisconsin
47. Wyoming

Alabama

There are several possible explanations for the origin of the word Alabama, but virtually all of them can be traced to a Native American tribe known as the Alabama. The Alabama River was named after them, and so was the state. Though some initially believe the word meant “here we rest,” that’s never been confirmed. It’s more likely the tribe was named by the neighboring Choctaw. One Choctaw scholar has indicated Alabama means “thicket clearers,” with alba meaning “vegetation” and amo meaning “to collect or gather.”

Alaska

The largest state’s name likely comes from the Aleut word alaxsxaq, meaning “the mainland.” The Aleuts—or more properly the Unangas or Unangan—are still in the state, by the way, along with many other native cultures—according to the Bureau of Indian Affairs there are 229 federally recognized tribes in Alaska, and Indigenous people make up over 15 percent of the state’s population.

Arizona

Headed to the Grand Canyon for a visit? You almost had to say you were visiting Pimeria or Gadsonia, both names that were under consideration for the territory now known as Arizona. The name may derive from the O’odham language phrase Al Shon, or “place of little spring.” But other historians have noted it could have been inspired by the Basque for “good oak tree.” Weirdly, you can also check out the London Bridge while you’re there, because in the 1960s, London decided to auction off their bridge and it made its way to Lake Havasu City. Sort of. According to Arizona Highways it’s “the original skin with a new skeleton” because all the load-bearing bits are new.

Arkansas

We know Arkansas is pronounced “Ar-kin-saw,” but that wasn’t always universally agreed-upon. One Senator preferred “Ar-KAN-zus” in the 1800s until a resolution was passed. Either way, it was a Native American tribe known as the Quapaw who inspired the phrase. So why isn’t it called “the state of Quapaw”? Indigenous people in the Ohio Valley called the Quapaw “Arkansas,” which was seemingly their name for anybody from that branch of the Siouan family, and then Indigenous people from the Ohio Valley region were guides for early French explorers and settlers and handed off the name, who then handed off the name to English speakers. And you’d better get it right, as it’s technically against state law to say “Ar-KAN-zus” once you cross state lines.

California

In the novel Las sergas de Esplandán, author Garci Rodríguez de Montalvo describes an Earthbound Eden full of priceless treasures and beautiful shores. Its residents were said to be exclusively Black women warriors who rode a mystical lion-eagle hybrid known as the griffin. In the novel, if a man somehow stumbled upon this society, he would become food for the creatures. De Montalvo named this paradise California. And since Las sergas de Esplandián was published around 1510, that was likely the first time anyone had ever heard or seen the word.

So was California the state named after Las sergas de Esplandián? Historians aren’t quite certain. It’s possible Spanish explorers knew of the book, which was something of a bestseller in its day. But it’s also possible the name was derived from the Latin words calida fornax, meaning “hot furnace,” or kali forno, a Native American phrase meaning “high hill or native land.” But it’s probably worth pointing out that the name would have been given to what is now the Baja California peninsula. As the Spanish ventured farther north, the region of California spread.

Colorado

Colorado is kind of an easy state name to puzzle out. It’s Spanish for “colored red,” which was considered relevant because it was once thought a reddish tint could be seen from water coming  down from the mountains. Congress chose the name in 1861 when it was made a territory and the name remained when it became a state in 1876.

Connecticut

Connecticut is a nickname-heavy state. People have referred to it as The Nutmeg State, the Constitution State, and the Land of Steady Habits. But its actual name comes from the Mohegan word Quinnehtukqut, or “upon the long tidal river.” 

Delaware

Delaware is home to a few firsts, including the first state to ratify the Constitution and the first to sell peaches commercially, both equally important. It’s also the first state on the list named after a person. When explorer Samuel Argall wanted a name for the bay and its associated river flowing through the state, he chose to name it after Virginia governor Thomas West, who carried the title Lord or Baron De La Warr. That was likely taken from the Old French meaning “of the war” or “warrior.” 

Florida

Florida was named by Juan Ponce de León, who arrived in the area in 1513. La Florida means “flowery” in Spanish. He chose the name both because the area had good woodlands and he sighted it around Pascua Florida, or Easter-time.

Georgia

Georgia is a tip of the cap to King George II of England, who granted it charter in 1732 as a means of sending debtors to a North American colony to try and become financially whole again. So why isn’t it the state of George? Because the -ia suffix means “state of.” The country of Georgia, meanwhile, gets its name from a Persian word that may have meant “wolf” that, in Medieval Western Europe, might have gotten conflated with Saint George.

Hawaii

Hawaii may have the coolest state name, but it’s also among the most puzzling to fully identify. Some believe it was named for the Polynesian man, Hawaii Loa, who was said to have discovered the Hawaiian islands. Others think it’s from a compound of hawa, or “homeland,” and ii, meaning “small.” But most scholars today look at proto-Polynesian languages and suggest it derives from something meaning “traditional homeland” because similar looking words pop up in other Polynesian languages.

Idaho

Idaho, the land of spuds, has one of the most contested names of all the states. A little over a decade after the then-territory was named, a newspaper report emerged that the author's “eccentric friend” George Willing came up with it. The story goes that he was advocating for the area in Congress when the naming question came up. At that precise moment a young girl named Ida ran in and Willing proclaimed “Ida, ho come and see me.” He realized Idaho was perfect and suggested it, claiming the word meant “Gem of the Mountains,” which … it doesn't. 

You’d think that story was so obviously true we should move on, except weeks later an Idaho newspaper said that nobody in the territory had ever heard of Willing. But the story doesn’t end there. 

Idaho was actually an early contender for the official name of Colorado, complete with the gem explanation. Willing wasn’t the official delegate then either, but according to historian Erl H. Ellis, he went to Washington, D.C. and pretended he was. Per Ellis, around the time Idaho was being thrown around as a name for Colorado it became trendy in that part of the world, with one girl even being named Nettie Idaho Jackson. Nettie’s aunt fell in love with the name, and said aunt’s husband just so happened to be a prominent politician who would go on to become the first governor of the Idaho Territory. According to their son, when the name question came up for this new territory, the suggestions were Lafayette, Montana, and Idaho. At the mention of Idaho, Nettie’s aunt expressed a desire for that name in honor of her niece and everyone accepted her wish. 

Long story short, the best guess is Idaho is named after a failed alternate for Colorado and influenced by Nettie Idaho Jackson, who was named after a failed alternate for Colorado. Where that name came from is anyone’s guess, but the only real explanation ever given is the clearly fictitious Ida, Ho. 

Illinois

Illinois may have come from the word irenweewa, which means “speaking in an ordinary way.” The r later changed to an l and then the word probably got borrowed into an Ojibwa dialect that dropped the wa. To French ears, ilinwe sounded like Illinois, and that pronunciation is what stuck. 

Indiana

Indiana is probably the most overt reference to Native Americans in a state name. It means “land of the Indians.” 

Iowa

Iowa, a.k.a. the Hawkeye State, was named for the Ioway tribe. Iowa could come from the word Ayuhwa, or “sleepy,” which is what the Dakota called the Ioway Nation. But the Ioway actually refer to themselves as the baxoje, which means “ashy snow.” 

Kansas

If you think Arkansas and Kansas have some connective tissue, you’re correct. Remember that the Quapaw inspired Arkansas. According to linguist William Bright, the starting A in Arkansas is an Algonquian prefix for ethnic groups and, essentially, the Kansaw part is the name for that particular branch of the Siouan family regardless of tribal affiliation. The word itself probably came from one of these Siouan languages, which is why there's a closely related tribe to the Quapaw called “the Kansa,” hence Kansas. The two state names ultimately come from the same source, except where Arkansas was mediated through an Algonquian language and then French and we decided to keep the French pronunciation, in Kansas we just Anglicized it. In Kansas, Arkansas City is pronounced with a hard “s.”

Kentucky

Kentucky is one of four commonwealths in the 50 states, and its moniker is among the most mysterious of state names. It’s possible it comes from the Wyandot word ken-tah-ten, or “land of tomorrow.” But that’s unconfirmed, and some believe the word actually means “meadow,” “prairie,” or even “river of blood.” That last one is probably not great, especially if you’re looking to attract tourists.

Louisiana

Louisiana was claimed back in 1682. To honor King Louis XIV, it was named La Louisiane, or “Land of Louis.” Now it’s really the land of milk—that’s the state’s official drink.

Maine

The name of Stephen King’s favorite haunt, Maine, comes from either French or English. If it came from English, it’s possible that it refers to the mainland, or a village on England’s coast with the same name. But in 2001, when the state legislature declared a Franco-American Day in the state, they proclaimed it was named after a French province.

Maryland

Maryland is another one of the few states with a clear connection to a singular person. It was named for Henrietta Maria, the Queen and wife of Charles I, who signed a 1632 charter establishing it as a colony.

Massachusetts

Massachusetts is another commonwealth, and its name is derived from the Massachusett tribe. It means “on or about the great hill.” A slightly more intriguing name story can be found in one of the state’s central lakes. The lake commonly known as Lake Webster has many alternate names, including Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg, which is the longest name of any geographical feature in the U.S. Loosely translated, it means “staying within fishing boundaries.”

Michigan

Michigan comes from Michigama or Misshikama, the Ojibwa tribe word for “great lake” or “large lake.” It has long been a state of industry, from Detroit’s car plants to the cereal companies of Battle Creek. Thank you, Michigan, for Grape-Nuts. 

Minnesota

Minnesota originated with the Dakota, who named the Minnesota River after Mni, their word for “water.” The second part is harder. If it’s “sota”—like most people pronounce it—it’d be “sky-tinted or clear,” with the idea being the river is so clear and calm it reflects the sky (or maybe has a blue tinge from sediments). If it’s “SHOW-ta,” that would be “cloudy”—probably referencing mists coming off the river. One other name-related tidbit from the state: Actress Winona Ryder is named after the town of Winona. 

Mississippi

Another water-inspired state name, Mississippi comes from something like the Ojibwa word messipi, or “big river.” Fitting!

Missouri

Missouri is the name of a Siouan-speaking tribe that comes from another tribe’s name for them, ouemessourita. Some thought that meant “muddy water” while others argued that it meant something closer to “large canoes,” with the miss- meaning “big” like in Mississippi. That’s probably not quite right, either, though, and it actually means “dugout canoe,” or more literally “log-canoe.”

Montana

When Congress was in the process of establishing Montana as its own official territory in 1864, Ohio representative James Ashley claimed the name was “a Spanish word meaning mountainous.” A couple weeks later, though, Michigan senator Jacob Howard said the name came from Latin. Montana is Latin for “mountainous,” and the closest Spanish word to Montana is montaña, meaning “mountain.” But it’s not clear who originally coined the name and which language inspired them. All that said, Spanish itself comes from Latin—so either way, Montana has Latin roots.

Nebraska

Nebraska is said to derive from one of two Siouan names for the Platte River: the Omaha ni braska or the Otoe ni brathge. They both mean “water flat,” a nod to how smoothly parts of the river flow through the region.

Nevada

Nevada is Spanish for “snowy” or “snow-clad.” That might seem like a joke to anyone only familiar with the state’s desert expanses, but Nevada is also home to various mountains, and those mountains are home to snow. The name was specifically inspired by the backdrop of the Sierra Nevada, which runs along Nevada’s western border with California. Though that range is mostly confined to California, a little piece—known as the Carson Range—does dip into the Silver State. Technically, the Spanish way to pronounce the state name is “neh-VAH-dah,” but Nevadans prefer “neh-VAD-uh.”

New Hampshire

In 1623, Captain John Mason secured a land grant in the New World and sent groups of people across the pond to settle it. Mason was from Hampshire, England, so you can probably guess where this is going. The region became New Hampshire, but Mason himself never saw it: He died in 1635 before ever making the trip. There’s a small town in New Hampshire named after him, but the more notable namesake may be Mason, the “Moose on the Loose”: the mascot for a grade-school curriculum on New Hampshire history. Mason wears glasses and loves eating birch bark. Naturally, his favorite book is If You Give a Moose a Muffin. 

New Jersey

New Jersey is named after Jersey, one of the Channel Islands. Jersey was the birthplace of George Carteret, who also served as the island’s lieutenant governor and eventually got the rights to half of what’s now New Jersey. Historians are split on how old Jersey got its name: Some say it’s from Caesarea, the Roman name for the island (or a neighboring one). But it may be Viking in origin: Ey is Old Norse for “island,” so Jersey could mean something like “Geirr’s island.”

New Mexico

Sixteenth-century Spanish explorers dubbed the region that includes New Mexico Nuevo México. That’s weird because it’s probably the only 16th-century place name that has New attached to an indigenous name, which references the Valley of Mexico. Basically modern Mexico City. There are a few competing theories for why. One idea is that the Spanish hoped this new territory would be as rich as the land they had recently conquered, or maybe it’s a word that Spain’s Nahuatl guides used that has been translated as “new” but could also mean something more like “original.” In that case, it would be a reference to the Aztec migration story. Then the Spanish might have heard about this story and set out to find new riches.  

New York

Brace yourselves; this next fact may come as a shock: New York City and New York State were named after the same thing. OK, what might actually surprise you is that the moniker was only indirectly inspired by York, England. When England wrested control of New Amsterdam from the Dutch in 1664, King Charles II gave it to his brother James, Duke of York—the future King James II. In honor of the duke, New Amsterdam became New York, the city. The surrounding area, formerly New Netherland, became New York, the state.

North and South Carolina

The Carolinas have multiple Kings Charles in their history. Sixteenth-century French settlers originally christened the region “Caroline” after France’s King Charles IX. Then, when England’s King Charles I issued a land grant to the area in 1629, he called it Carolana after himself. The plan to colonize Carolana was put on hold while England dealt with civil war, but Charles I’s son, King Charles II, succeeded in the task in 1663. According to some sources, the final iteration of the name, Carolina, is a tribute to Charles II. But others suggest that he more or less just kept the title his father had given it. Carolina was formally split into North and South Carolina in 1712.

North and South Dakota

More than 175 years later, in 1889, the Dakota Territory was formally split into North and South Dakota. The reasons why could fill their own video, so let’s just chalk it up to irreconcilable differences. Neither state really wanted to change its name, in part because people associated Dakota with high-quality products—“like California raisins or Florida orange juice,” as University of North Dakota history professor Kimberly Porter told TIME. So they settled on North and South Dakota. The word itself, borrowed from the Dakota people of the region, means “friendly” or “allied.” Ironic for a divorced couple.

Ohio

Ohio the state was named after the Ohio River, which got its moniker from the Seneca Nation’s name for it: ohi:yo’, derived from a term meaning “good river.” And you know what? It is a good river—it supplies drinking water to roughly 5 million people.

Oklahoma

Choctaw chief Kiliahote, also known as Allen Wright, coined the term Oklahoma in 1866. It’s a fusion of two Choctaw words: okla, meaning “people,” and homma (or humma), meaning “red.” So in literal terms, Oklahoma means “red people.” But the Choctaw Nation Historic Preservation Department offered up an alternate interpretation in a 2023 issue of the Choctaw newspaper Biskinik: “Traditionally, Homma was a kind of war title given to Choctaw people who didn’t retreat … In this context, Oklahoma translates to people who do not retreat.”

Oregon

Oregon’s origin is kind of a mystery. The earliest known reference to the word is from a 1765 funding proposal written by Robert Rogers, an American-born British Army officer, to King George III. Rogers wanted money for an expedition to locate the Northwest Passage, hopefully by following a river that Native Americans called “Ouragon,” according to Rogers. But it’s not clear where Rogers heard the term, or even what river it originally referred to. One theory is that it comes from an Algonquian word, wauregan, for the Ohio River. Another is that it hails from ooligan, a Chinuk Wawa term for candlefish that could’ve gotten co-opted for one of their habitats, too—British Columbia’s Fraser River. Whatever the case, Rogers eventually enlisted one Jonathan Carver for the Northwest Passage expedition, and Carver mentioned “the Oregon, or River of the West” in his published journals from the trip. So Carver gets credit for popularizing Oregon among English speakers, but we’re still pretty much in the dark about the etymological Oregon trail before that. 

Pennsylvania

You might have assumed the commonwealth of Pennsylvania was named after its founder, William Penn. But it was actually named for his father, also William Penn. Penn senior had fronted the king a bunch of money to restore the navy in the aftermath of England’s civil war, and Charles repaid it after Penn’s death by granting his son land in the New World. Sylvania comes from the Latin word for “woods,” so Pennsylvania means “Penn’s woods.”

Rhode Island

Rhode Island the state, which isn’t an island, plays host to Rhode Island the island, which is—although locals generally call it “Aquidneck Island.” Aquidneck is thought to have come from a Narragansett word meaning “on the island.” The island was named Rhode Island before the state, christened by English minister Roger Williams and his cohorts when they established a colony there in the 1630s. But where they got the name remains a subject of debate.

One theory points to explorer Giovanni da Verrazzano, who visited the region back in 1524. While there, he noted a small island—today’s Block Island—that was similar in size to the Greek island of Rhodes. The other theory involves the namesake of Block Island itself: Adriaen Block, a Dutch explorer who investigated the region in 1614. It’s often said that Block named Block Island or Aquidneck Island Roodt Eylandt, Dutch for “red island,” after its red clay or red cliffs. But what really happened is more convoluted, because we don’t have any written account from Block himself. 

What we do have is a 1625 breakdown of the region by Dutch geographer Joannes de Laet, who presumably did have access to Block’s journals. In it, de Laet mentions “een rodlich Eylandeken,” or “a reddish island.” Sure, it’s possible that phrase got anglicized to Rhode Island—but it’s also possible that Williams and friends took Verrazzano’s nod to Rhodes and ran with it. Either way, Block didn’t name any part of the region Roodt Eylandt, nor did Verrazzano name it Rhode Island. All these Rhodes lead to nowhere.

Tennessee

Tennessee was named after a Cherokee village: ta’nasi’, though nobody’s quite sure what the word itself meant. Here’s a bonus Tennessee name origin: Playwright Tennessee Williams was born Thomas Lanier Williams III—people nicknamed him “Tennessee” in college because of his strong southern accent. He did briefly live there, but he spent most of his early life in Mississippi and Missouri. Missouri Williams doesn’t sound quite right.

Texas

The Dakotas aren’t the only states with a “friendly” etymology. Texas derives from taysha, a word used by the Hasinai for “friends” or “allies.” Spanish settlers Hispanicized it to Texas, and then English speakers anglicized it to Texas. And now you also know why the Lone Star State’s motto is “Friendship.”

Utah

Utah is also likely an anglicized Spanish term: yuta, which is what Spanish settlers called the Ute people who lived in the Great Basin. It’s possible that yuta itself came from an Apache word that referred to people living high up—but not everyone agrees with that origin story. Another theory is that yuta meant “meat eaters.”

Vermont

Vermont comes from the French for “green mountain,” though it doesn’t seem to have been used by the region’s 17th-century French settlers. The earliest known reference to Vermont is from a 1777 broadside by Thomas Young, an American revolutionary who may have coined the term as a nod to the patriot militia the Green Mountain Boys. It’s often pointed out that Vermont is pretty shoddy French, as the common construction would be montagne verte. But in the naming of things, there’s precedence both for mont—archaic French for “mountain”—and for the adjective coming before the noun. Think Beaumont and Belmont. There are also plenty of examples of verte getting shortened to ver. I mean if you’re making up a word, why follow spelling and grammar rules, anyway?

Virginia and West Virginia

England’s most famous bachelorette lent her name to the commonwealth of Virginia: Queen Elizabeth I, a.k.a. the Virgin Queen. It might seem weird that 16th-century explorers singled out the virgin of it all instead of going with, like, Elizaland. But Elizabeth’s singledom was sort of a selling point for her reign: She was presented as a Virgin Mary–esque figure who was married to the game (the game being ruling England). The word Virginia also offered a convenient metaphor for what colonizers considered virginal lands theirs for the taking. Look, I said it was a convenient metaphor—not that it was apt or inoffensive. Originally, the term Virginia covered a hefty chunk of the Eastern Seaboard, but the borders shrank as that land got parceled out to various settlers. 

West Virginia didn’t become a thing until the Civil War, when after years of feeling ignored Virginia’s western counties opposed Virginia’s secession from the Union. They decided to form their own state, which was admitted to the Union on June 20, 1863. Other names were considered, including Kanawha, after the region’s Kanawha River; and Allegheny, after the Allegheny River. But many residents still strongly identified as Virginians, so legislators just went with West Virginia.

Washington and Washington, D.C. 

Washington, D.C. traces its history back to the 1790s. The District of Columbia—back then the Territory of Columbia—was named after a popular poetic term for, and female personification of, the United States, Columbia, who was named after Christopher Columbus. And Washington, the city itself, was named in honor of then-president George Washington. Fast-forward to the 1850s. Out west, Oregon Territory inhabitants who lived north of the Columbus River broke off and formed their own territory—mostly so they’d have better political representation that would cater to their specific needs. The proposed name for this new bloc was the Columbia Territory, after the Columbia River. But Congress said, “Sorry, no, we already have a Territory of Columbia—that’ll just confuse everyone.” So they named it Washington, instead.

Wisconsin

Over the last few centuries, people have put forth so many different theories about the origin of the word Wisconsin that it’s hard to pin down the truth. But here’s the version that the Wisconsin Historical Society supports: It comes from a word the Miami people used for what’s now the Wisconsin River. It meant something like “this stream meanders through something red,” with that “something red” likely being the red sandstone formations located in modern-day Wisconsin Dells. Seventeenth-century French missionary Jacques Marquette first wrote the term as Meskousing, which another French explorer misread as Ouisconsin soon after. That eventually got anglicized to Wisconsin. Probably for the best—there are already too many states that start with M as it is.

Wyoming

The word Wyoming is definitely of Native American origin, though the details are up for debate. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, it’s from the Munsee-Delaware word chwewamink, meaning “at the big river flat.” But it’s also been suggested to have come from the Delaware word maughwauwa-ma, which referred to large plains. Colonists adopted the term Wyoming for Pennsylvania’s Wyoming Valley during the 18th century, and then a Pennsylvania-born Ohio congressman proposed it for what became Wyoming Territory in the 1860s. Wyoming the state has rivers and plains, too, so it’s not a total non sequitur.

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A version of this story ran in 2013; it has been updated for 2024.