Do Pronouns Matter?

Getting Over the Discomfort of Language

I have identified myself as a non-binary, gender fluid person for four years now, since I was 78 years old. I routinely ask others to refer to me as “they/them,” put it up after my name in Zoom meetings, and mindfully (I hope) ask others if they are willing to do the same. I have been having some interesting experiences around the “pronoun thing” for some time, now.

-       I suggested to a friend the other day that we might all post our pronouns in a Zoom meeting we attend. I do, since I am gender fluid, non-binary, and the words “they” and “them” matter to me. They are a core part of my identity. My friend wondered why she should put up her pronouns the way I do; what would be served by stating the obvious? She was female, “she/hers” was obvious, she was, in her words, “ordinary.” 

-       One of my relatives who has a lifetime experience in communications described the use of “they/them” to refer to a single person as “incorrect grammar.” It offends them (yes, I am using the singular them to refer to a specific person – think for a minute whether that shocked you).

-       I realize, as I look around the Sangha I have been attending in Portland, OR, that I cannot be certain of people’s gender identity just by looking at them. Only two of 27 participants in a recent Zoom meditation meeting I attend had actually posted their gender pronouns after their name.

-       According to a Pew poll on pronouns, half of Americans feel “somewhat or very” uncomfortable using they/them pronouns.

These encounters and the Pew data have me thinking even more deeply about pronouns and their modern usage. Lest you think this is all an exercise in political correctness, or “wokism” run amok (I am sure some of you feel this way in your gut), let me try to explain why a conscious use of pronouns matters.

Being explicit about using accurate pronouns is a conscious recognition that the gender binary is a social construct. What do I mean by that? Simply, and briefly, the idea that there are only two genders, hence two gender identities, flies in the face of human experience and history. The exclusive binary framework is simply not historically accurate.  

For centuries, there have been humans who do not define themselves as a “man” or a “woman.” In Southeast Asia, India, Africa, among many indigenous peoples, gender fluid, non-binary people have existed, even been honored, as in the tradition of some indigenous groups recognizing “two spirit” as a separate gender identity. (that’s the 2S in LGBTQIA2S+ for those of you keeping a scorecard).

Or, as I like to say, gender fluidity and non-binary people occur “naturally,” that is, in “nature.” I do so to avoid using the word “normal,” which is, itself, a socially defined term.  (It started as a statistical term, just describing numbers and data, but gradually morphed into a more judgmental concept – you are “normal”; she is not, so she must be “abnormal”).

That’s probably a good place to start with gender, because, as with other societal things, we are beginning to learn that there are lots of behaviors and identities and mental/physical conditions that occur on a spectrum or a continuum. Gay/lesbian sexuality (no, that is NOT gender) was for a long time treated as “abnormal.”  In the US, at least, a vast majority of people now accept that same-sex attraction occurs everywhere; it is “natural,” it occurs in nature and has for millennia. To call it “abnormal,” as psychology did for more than a hundred years, is to impose a moral judgment on a naturally-occurring phenomenon.

The same is true of gender identity; mine is “natural,” as is yours.  It is not just the sex you were born with; it is how you see and express yourself in gender terms.

There are words for this: man, woman, trans person, among others. Adjectives for a sense of one’s gender range across a rich spectrum: masculine, feminine, trans-male, trans-female, gender fluid, non-binary, Queer. 

Living inside trans identity, I am struck at the diversity even within this world. Trans is not all one thing, one identity. There are trans people who felt they were living in a body that did not correspond to their gender identity, who have gone through difficult hormonal and surgical treatments to align the two. There are people who have made some of that transition, but not all of it. There are people like me who express their gender identity through appearance (gender display) without changing bodies – clothing, accessories, makeup, hair styles. And there are even more subtle breakdowns.

Bottom line, life is a spectrum, a continuum, not a set of binaries – gay/straight or male/female.  For an analogous realization, see the growing recognition today that neurologically divergent people are not “abnormal,” they simply have different neurological architecture. ADHD is not a “disease” to “cure” – it is a human condition found in many people (its own spectrum) that needs to be understood and included in the way we all see the world and see each other.

In the world of gender, pronouns are an important marker of this diversity. They are a way of acknowledging the reality of the world of gender as we find it in nature. We need and use language for that; it is the way we express that awareness. Increasingly, we have language to do that. And language adapts itself over time to such diversities.  Hence the adoption of “they/them/theirs” to signal that diversity and where one is on the spectrum of gender identities.

Most important, accepting the use of “they/them” pronouns and posting your own, especially by people who identify as “he/him” or “she/her” makes a space safer. It is an important part of explicitly including trans, non-binary/gender fluid/Queer people in any space, but especially in meetings, Zoom sessions, and groups. When gender identities are not known, trans people do not feel safe. The container cannot be fully trusted.  

That sense of safety is linked to the respect trans people are given, along with others in the container. It signals that we are not just tolerated but have the opportunity to be “included.” Inclusion is critical. There is a difference between tolerating, (“I may not like, know or understand you; you are different from the “norm,” but I accept your presence here”), accepting (“I recognize that you, though different, can be in this container, along with everyone else, including other minorities”), and including (“you are a fully equal, participating, empowered participant this container; I get who you are and your voice is as important in this container as mine.”).

These may seem like subtle differences, but they are palpable to minority participants of all kinds in a meeting, group, or other container.

This is why it is important for all participants to identify their own pronouns.  Otherwise, the assumption is the minority needs to do so to be clear who they are, but, as my friend said, “I’m just ordinary,” so I don’t need to do that.  I’m just like everyone else, the majority, the “norm.”  The pronouns are reserved to people who are not the norm.

I like everyone to post their pronouns because that says something more important, even, than inclusion. To me, it says, you, too, are probably aware that we live in a gendered world, are aware of your own gendered nature, could actually speak to that nature, if asked. Consciousness, awareness is a huge part of this social change. Posting all pronouns says that “normal” does not exist in the gendered world; other identities are not “abnormal,” they are “natural.”

When everyone posts pronouns, we are on equal footing. This sense of safety is not automatic; cis-gendered* people might be posting their pronouns pro forma – “I don’t get it, but OK, if it makes you feel better.” But to do so opens the door to a discussion of the meaning of gender, if you want to have it, on equal footing, including what it means to be a woman, or a man, or trans.  Posting opens the door to that conversation, which is critical to the social change gender identity is part of.

But it is still awkward, you say; the pronouns are just not right; they do not come tripping off the tongue the way he/she or his/hers does. True that; because it takes practice and awareness to do this. It opens the doors of consciousness, to the conversation.

It might be useful to realize that the use of the singular “they/them” has existed in English since Shakespeare’s days. ("Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear the speech. – Hamlet) You do it yourself, unwittingly. “Who parked their car here; they did a terrible job.”  “Don’t trust anyone who says they saw a ghost.” Teacher: “Someone should let you borrow their book.” Or “Everyone doubts themself at one point or another.”

The intermediary step is using “they” to avoid the sexist practice of letting “he” stand for everyone or the awkward (and binary) “he or she.”  As in: “I don’t know who wrote this, but they write well.” Comes trippingly off the American tongue, doesn’t it? The difference today is using the same pronouns with respect to a specific person.  Even then: “You invited David; are they coming?” sounds plausible.

It is one more step to “they/them” referring to me or another trans person.  That’s the way language works; it evolves with changing cultural norms. Doing so is worth the effort; it opens up important conversations and speaks to the real diversity in which we live.

So relax, pronoun up, and start the interesting conversation.

• “cis-gendered,” meaning that your sense of your own gender is the same as the sex you were assigned at birth.  “He/him” and having a penis.  “She/her” and having a vagina. “cis” from the Latin prefix meaning “on this side,” as contrasted with trans meaning “on the other side” or “beyond.”