Inclusive language is near and dear to my heart, so I’ll just jump right in. This term refers to careful word choice with the intention of including people who are regularly excluded or marginalized. Inclusive language can be a little challenging to adopt, and that’s OK so long as you’re trying.
When I was growing up, it was common to call someone retarded if they were acting stupid, or gay if they were being lame. As a kid, you don’t understand what those words actually mean–just that they’re bad. Personally, I have never hated any group of people. Sure, I have some experiential biases against certain privileged groups, but it’s hard for me to understand straight up hating–to the point of murder–someone you’ve never interacted with.
I’m not going to go into the logic behind that because it’s a little too far OT, the point is that I never hated anyone, but I used those words because that was the vernacular. I had a moment of awakening as a freshman in high school when my favorite teacher, who was out, heard me use the word gay to describe something I didn’t like.
Up until that point, I’d always separated the derogatory use of the word from the homosexual use. Like, it was one word with multiple meanings. In my mind gay meant happy, it meant homosexual, and it meant subpar. I didn’t understand that it was derogatory and that wasn’t my intention. This teacher helped me understand that my intention didn’t matter–my words did. And my words were hurtful.
Not hurt feelings hurtful, but hurtful to the dream of equality. What I was saying to my peers was that it’s OK to hate gay people because being gay is wrong. I was reinforcing hate and in doing so I was participating in it.
This Isn’t About Being Politically Correct
If you’re like my father in law, you might call this attention to word choice “political correctness,” a term which frequently excuses those who are privileged from caring about the very real hate and injustice perpetrated against everyone else. Let’s talk about that.
First, and I have to say this because it’s so obvious: what do politics have to do with it? As though being politically correct is not the same as being actually correct, the phrase implies that polite language is falsehood and it’s better to just be honest. It’s used frequently by people who will glare at you for saying fuck in front of them. There’s a word for that, too. It’s hypocrite.
Who gave you the right to talk about people who have been marginalized and faced innumerable hardships as if they aren’t people? Who gave you the right to ignore them? How is a small inconvenience to you more significant that decades of hate and violence? This isn’t a matter of politics, this is a matter of social justice.
OK, I guess they’re connected. In much the same way as shampoo and toothpaste–they’re related, you’ll find them sold in the same store, but are they the same thing? Are they even connected beyond being essential items for hygiene?
Social concerns inform politics and politics then inform the system that perpetuates social injustice. Yes, there is a link that ties them together, but they are not the same thing. Social justice is a question of morality, politics is a question of government. Even if you aren’t “political” and you’ve never voted, I hope you’ll still interfere if you see someone getting assaulted on the street. If something as simple as adjusting your word choice can prevent violence, shouldn’t we at least try?
The Message Between the Lines
These days it’s common to come across preferred identifiers on social media. I identify as a woman, and prefer she/her, but I reject the word “gal.” As far as I am concerned, I am a guy. Here’s why:
Someone enters a room with a few men and women talking and having a good time. They ask the room, “Hey, what’re you guys doing tonight?” It’s a question we’ve all asked and been asked at one point in our lives. But if women aren’t guys, that means that person’s question was only addressing the men. Do the women not matter? Do they not have the agency to choose what happens that evening?
There are three possible answers. One, the speaker should revise their question to “What’re you all doing tonight?” Two, “guys” should be nonbinary like “them,” “they,” and “it.” Three, the women in the group are irrelevant and their opinions do not matter.
This is the message between the lines.
Being inclusive is not about censorship, it’s challenging you to adjust your vocabulary. Now, there’s some contention about exactly how to adjust your vocabulary. For instance, prostitute is no longer considered acceptable, instead you should use sex worker. As a writer, I cringe at vague language like that (and admittedly this is one my friend corrects me on frequently), but as an advocate for social justice I understand why they choose to be so vague.
In the dictionary, prostitute simply means someone who engages in sex for money (sense 1). However, it’s a word that carries several heavy social connotations, which are also listed in the dictionary (sense 2). It’s not the word itself, it’s the social connotations associated with the word that excuse violence against this group of people. It’s this stigma that makes it so hard for sex workers to even have their rape or murder investigated by police.
No, I don’t want to hear that “they were asking for it” bullshit. By that same logic no one should work because ALL jobs have their own risks. Are baristas asking to be cursed at for the long line of orders in the morning? Are construction workers asking to get injured? Let’s stop pointing the finger at the victim, OK? This is a matter of correcting incorrect behaviors, not shaming people for needing money to survive. Because that’s everyone.
How to Be Inclusive
In writing, it’s sometimes hard to marry the often vague or awkward preferred word choice with readability and dynamic storytelling. Fortunately, there’s a lot of awareness these days and lots of content about how to be inclusive. Common ways of describing someone to pay special attention to are:
- Gender (he/she/they, Mr./Mrs./Ms., headmaster/headmistress)
- Sex (man/woman, yes it’s different from gender)
- Race (this is a real can of worms since most racial identifiers are intrinsically racist)
- Ethnicity (no, it’s not the same thing as race)
- Occupation (prostitute, stewardess, secretary)
- Disability (gimp, retarded)
- Sexual orientation/preference (gay, homo, fag)
- Socioeconomic status (rich/poor)
- Mental health (that’s crazy!)
- Appearance (fat, dwarf, slant-eyed, chocolate skin)
The trick to using inclusive language is a mental exercise. Really start questioning your norms and analyze whether that might apply to everyone. That hardest part of being inclusive is noticing when you aren’t. If you aren’t confident in your ability to identify exclusive language in your own work, MS Word has added a feature in their Editor tool. The best way to be sure, though, is to hire a sensitivity reader.
When It’s OK Not to Use Inclusive Language
Now to put on my devil’s advocate hat and muddy the waters.
When used with intention, exclusive language is an excellent literary device. In my book I intentionally use gendered language. Why? Because the story is set in a sexist world. Job titles are gendered and there’s a clear distinction between men and women. Some occupations are even gender-exclusive. Using gendered language helps to reveal an element of this world without the exposition “Yo, these guys are sexist AF.”
Danger! This can go horribly wrong!
As with any other element of your writing, when you aren’t intentional about it, it reads as an oversight. So, if the morality argument isn’t strong enough for you, here’s an excerpt from a story you might remember:
“Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said Dudley looked like a baby angel — Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.”
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K. Rowling
If you don’t remember, Hagrid later turns Dudley into a humanoid pig as punishment for eating Harry’s cake. I’m picking on Harry Potter for this because it’s so accessible. Rowling probably isn’t harboring some kind of vendetta against overweight people as a group (though these days you never know) she was just painting a vivid picture. It’s an unfortunately common tactic in MG fiction for antagonistic characters to be mocked for their physical traits by either the narrator or the MC. Petty AF, right? Tell that to MG writers.
As storytellers, we have a responsibility. Our words carry weight with our audiences. Even small oversights like this–while giving texture and voice to a story–can perpetuate negative stereotypes and breed new hate.
Include minorities, but make sure you consider how they’re included. An especially dangerous pitfall that I see constantly overlooked is this “inclusion” taking shape as a villain, victim, or otherwise tertiary character. These oversights do the opposite of inclusion and undermine your effort. Because, if you only have one woman in your story and she’s a victim, you’re saying women are victims (whether you meant to or not).
Concerns and Contradictions
Full confession: This is something I personally struggle with. I mentioned earlier my friend is constantly correcting me re: sex worker v. prostitute. In writing it’s important to use precise language, so being intentionally vague is counterintuitive. Adding to that, I don’t think there’s anything morally wrong with sex work and frequently forget that that’s still not the social norm.
So, sometimes I get frustrated. I want to rehab the word so that the cultural connotations are no longer there. That feels like a more realistic solution to the problem than censorship. And I still feel that the problem is the stigma against sex workers, not the word prostitute. Changing the language is a temporary solution, not a permanent one.
But I respect that prostitute is a word treated much like whore or slut in our culture. It is used to disenfranchise and dismiss a group of people. Victim blaming, slut shaming . . . On the opposite side she’s a prude if she won’t have sex before marriage (and good luck finding a marriage partner that’ll wait). It’s truly a world where a woman is damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t. The reason stems from a culture of objectification and control. At least we have the right to vote, work, and own property, now. Unfortunately, there’s still a long road to equality.
My fear is that we can change the words all we want, but the negative connotations will follow until we change the way we think about the group of people in question.
In short, haters gonna hate.
The point is that if nothing else, you should be respectful. A group of marginalized people have asked you to please change your language and, honestly, it’s not hard to accommodate that. That’s the first step towards change. The next step is how and when we use our words (i.e., using ‘gay’ as an insult, using ‘pussy’ to mean weak, etc.). The decisive step is letting go of our prejudices altogether. But that’s a long way off. I have some hope with Gen Z, but you never know. We might have to wait one or two more generations.
For now, amend your language. It’s not hard, it just takes a little bit of presence until you’re used to it. In the meantime, do what writers do: write. Be a part of the solution. The best way to make the change you want to see a reality is to write it. Because our words are powerful. And the words we choose to tell our stories are even more so.
Further reading
70 Inclusive Language Principles That Will Make You A More Successful Recruiter
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