Guest post by Shanay T. Bell
On the importance of using conscious language.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: many of us inadvertently harm people in our writing.
The language we use is shaped by our views, values, culture, and identity. In the process of selecting and rejecting words, we subconsciously include some people — while excluding others. There are a slew of words that I consider to be offensive as a Black person who is also a mother and a woman. Whenever I read words like “thug,” “monkey,” “juvenile delinquent,” or “female,” my internal alarm sounds off because they are violent and inflammatory to me. However, those same words may seem meaningless to others.
I say “seem” because all words have meaning; and they become meaningful the moment we choose them. As writers, creatives, and content creators, the language we use sets the tone, defines individuals, frames arguments, and even erases communities. So, we should be mindful about the power we wield and the words we elevate as writers.
Many excellent guidelines and online resources pinpoint the ways that we can use conscious language to prioritize people, their identities, and their humanity. I encourage you to use these resources or develop your own style sheet that centers authenticity and dignity for all. In the list below, I share five examples of how I screen out demeaning content and uplift conscious language in my writing. It only takes minutes to:
1. Remove coded, inflammatory language. These words seem benign to some, but they’re stereotypical or considered slurs by others. “Illegals,” “articulate,” or “substance abuse” have been used for decades. But we’re obligated to advocate for all readers in our writing, not just the people with similar experiences who look like us. “Migrants” or “undocumented immigrants” is preferred over “illegals.” Refrain from referring to individuals — especially people of color — as “articulate.” And not all people who use substances are abusers or addicts. For this reason, “substance use” is preferred over “substance abuse.” I would also like to note that certain substances are an integral part of many cultural and ancestral healing practices.
2. Affirm instead of erasing communities. Some people avoid “Hispanic,” “Latina,” or “Latino” in their writing. These terms ignore the intersections across communities of people of various genders — from different lineages and cultures — who may speak an Indigenous language other than Spanish. They also perpetuate the use of colonialist social constructs that don’t acknowledge an individual’s Indigenous or Black ancestry. “Latinx,” “Latine,” “Chicanx,” and “Xicanx” are considered more inclusive and gender-neutral terms. When in doubt, ask individuals how they would like to be identified. It’s important to value their preferences over our assumptions.
3. Avoid binaries that frame people as opposites. Not all children are raised by mothers and fathers. Some of them may have gender fluid or gender nonconforming parents or grandparents or siblings as caregivers. We can easily replace other binary terms like “girls and boys” with “children” or “students,” or “men and women” with “communities” or “people.” Let’s ensure that a range of genders are represented in the language we use.
4. Replace ableist or pathologizing words. Use “unite” instead of “stand.” Avoid terms like “crippled” or “paralyzed.” Writing “the city was paralyzed by the snowstorm” is not only overused and an example of lazy writing, it’s offensive to people who are paralyzed. Don’t state a person “suffers from,” “is afflicted with,” “is battling,” or “is a victim” of a disorder/diagnosis. Instead, be sensitive and specific about their mental or physical condition (i.e., He has an obsessive-compulsive disorder diagnosis.).
5. Respect humanity and culture in our language. You don’t have a “tribe” of girlfriends. Tribes are Native Americans. The “I” in “Indigenous” should be capitalized just like the first letters in “Japanese” or “Guyanese.” We must always acknowledge the significance and importance of an individual’s identity — even if it breaks a rule in a style guide. And we should avoid ranking communities by using terms like “BIPOC” (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color). “People of color” or “racialized communities” is preferred.
I realize that some people falsely believe that embracing inclusivity in our writing is time-consuming or forces us to be “politically correct.” But rooting out bias and avoiding stereotypes is just as important as fixing grammatical errors. The language we use can empower or erase communities, grant agency or create victims, and humanize or hinder people.
There are so many words in our dominant culture that tear down communities instead of affirming them, and it’s vital for all of us to do more than look for typos or misplaced commas. We must also scrutinize our writing and challenge our biases, avoid stigmatizing and shaming communities, and consider nuance and context.
Choosing inclusion over exclusion and welcoming existence over erasure will always elevate our writing — and remind us of the beauty of our collective humanity.
Shanay T. Bell is an award-winning writer whose broad career spans journalism, marketing, corporate communications, and policy writing. An experienced storyteller, she writes about an array of complex issues — including philanthropy, equity, and racial justice.
