The Power of Words

​What we say matters.  How we say it matters.  The words we use are steeped in all that we bring with us to each engagement, whether we intentionally choose them or unconsciously use whatever comes to mind by default.  I have spent a lot of time shedding my default ways of being in the world and one of my favorite ways to practice being intentional is to use different words to express myself than my default.

For example, I used to say “I am going to powwow with so-n-so” when I needed to have a quick chat with someone to get on the same page about something.  I used it all the time: at work, at the gym, volunteering, at home, at the dojo, running errands, dancing, everywhere.  One day, a friend told me that what I thought of as a fun shorthand descriptor was actually a flippant use of a term that holds deep cultural significance for their first-nations people.  I wanted to stop (unconsciously) disrespecting first-nations folks, so I stopped using it and tried alternatives: huddle, parlay, touch-in, sit-down, conference, chit-chat.  My current favorite seems to be conference, although huddle is a close second.

Through intentional practice I changed my default.

The same method has also been useful in replacing gendered terms in my default speech.  My focus the last few years on gender identity equity was spurred-on by my experience in the dance community.  In my local contra dance scene, the terms ladies and gents are used to identify a dancer’s position in the pairing relative to their partner.  The connection to a dancer’s actual gender is mostly arbitrary as women-identifying humans often dance the gent role and men-identifying humans also dance the ladies role at most dances.  Dance callers routinely explain in their opening lesson that “these terms are arbitrary” and “anyone can dance with anyone.”

Despite those pronouncements, the queer and non-binary folks in our community have told me they do not feel welcome at dances where gendered terms are used.  They do not feel like they belong in that space because when they dance down the line presenting as female in the gent role or presenting as male in the ladies role, other community members refuse to accept their chosen dance role.  Well-meaning folks assume confusion and try to direct them to the “correct” place.  Less well-meaning folks refuse to dance with someone appearing in the “wrong role” or express their disapproval through physically aggression.

I want my queer and non-binary friends to feel welcome at dances.  I want them to have access to the opportunity for joy, community, and healthy physical touch that contra dance affords all the straight, cis, white people.  And I want all dancers to disconnect the role terms from their assumption of a dancer’s gender.

This seems totally within reach for the contra community since the gendered terms are touted as arbitrary anyway.  And the tide does seem to be turning.  Callers around the country have been exploring various gender-neutral terms at contra dances for years.  At the monthly Remix contra dance that I run with my partner, we have used exclusively non-gendered terms for the last couple years.  And the local traditional weekly dance began to use gender-neutral terms every other week before Covid arrived and all dances were cancelled.

Expanding the feeling of welcome for queer and non-binary community members is amazing.  And it is easier to nurture that change when we use robins and larks instead of ladies and gents because we are no longer using words that formerly meant the very thing they currently describe.  Through intentional practice at our dance, the Remix community has changed our default and that is helping to spread the change through the wider contra community.

But I not only want the entire dance community to feel welcome and wanted at dances, I want all the humans who do not fit into the male or female binary to be fully seen and recognized everywhere, whatever their gender expression.  In their workplaces, at the gym, playing outside, in the Library, on the bus, at the grocery store.  Everywhere.

To further that cause, I spent time reflecting on my default language and identifying the ways my word choice reinforced default gender norms.  I sought out resources and listened to queer and non-binary folks talk about their experience in a society where the male or female binary is the default.  And I made deliberate changes to the words I use.  Instead of mankind, I say human kind.  Instead of observing “that lady looks happy” when I describe a stranger, I say “that human looks happy” or “that person looks happy.”  Instead of “hey guys!” I greet people with “hey folks!” or "hey y'all!"

It takes practice.  And the more I practiced, the less I had to think about it.  My default changed.

This journey probably sounds familiar if you are one of the many humans currently working to uncover and dismantle your own racism.  And it should because it is the same process.  Looking deeply into myself to shine a light on how my default way of being in the world maintains one part of the status quo is critical to changing that default.  It is also practice for looking at my contribution to other parts of the status quo.
 
I have heard a lot of folks recently advising everyone to “get comfortable being uncomfortable” in our anti-racism work.  I’m there.  I am ready and willing to be uncomfortable and I have a lot of practice while working other equity issues and through my martial training.  What I’m looking for now is to get uncomfortable with being comfortable.  I don’t want to just poke my head up out of my comfort from time to time when I’m doing my anti-racism work.  I want to change my default.  I want to nurture an instinct of unease with the comfort of white supremacy.

So while I am using the same words of comfort and discomfort, reordering them changes the focus of my intention.

About 10 years ago I was watching a re-run of a 1980’s stand-up comedy show.  It was hilarious.  I was laughing non-stop until the part where the comedian started talking about the faggots.  He said the word faggot so many times.  I couldn’t tell you what else he talked about in those few minutes because I was deeply uncomfortable and slightly shaken.  My whole life I have known that word equals hate, so when I heard it used so casually, as part of the status quo, I was shocked.

Years before that comedy show re-run, I was playing an Italian card game with my extended family.  My uncle played a card with a human riding a horse and proclaimed that he was playing “the Prancing Faggot!”  Most of the family laughed, but I remember my mouth actually falling open.  Hearing such a hurtful word come out of my otherwise loving uncle’s mouth shocked me.  I was in my late teens at the time and didn’t feel confident standing up in front of my whole family, so I said timidly “Can we please stop with the hate?  Let’s use a different word.”  There was an uncomfortable silence, then the game moved on without a reoccurrence of that word.
 
My uncle never used that word in front of me again, although I have no idea what he said when I wasn’t around.  We never talked about it.  I assume my tiny interruption of that one card game on that one visit did not change any of his beliefs about fem-presenting male humans or gay people.  But I was definitely uncomfortable with his comfortable display of anti-gay bigotry.

Just like my auto-objection to hearing a gay slur, I want to hone my hatedar to pick up all the other ways default language reinforces the comfort of what has been the racial status quo.  Deliberately using non-gender terms to describe my fellow humans expanded my overall perspective.  It allowed me to recognize my own humanity more deeply, and to see more clearly how my word choice was denying the humanity of others.  I want to apply the same practice to my anti-racism work, so I can become equally uncomfortable with the status quo of racism.  Changing our words won't solve the problem by itself, but it is one useful way to practice.

Words matter.  Choose wisely.  Through intentional practice, we can change the default.

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Information and Inspiration:

• ​NPR: Opinion: Black Protest Is Music. Learning The Melody Isn't Enough
• The Conversation: Language Alters Our Experience of Time
• The Atlantic: The Problem With ‘Hey Guys’
• PDX Contra Remix: About
• YouTube: Dr. Robin DiAngelo discusses 'White Fragility'
• Robin DiAngelo: White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism