What do you think when you read this shirt? [it reads: I’m silently correcting your grammar]

When I bought this 6-7 years ago, I thought it was a funny way to tell the world that I love words, grammar, reading, and writing. I even bought two mugs with the same phrase.

Since then, I’ve come to realize that this phrase is ableist, meaning:

• relating to, involving, or fostering discrimination against disabled people: ableist language; ableist architecture; implicitly ableist laws.

• tending to regard people with a disability as incomplete, diminished, or damaged, and to measure the quality of life with a disability against a nondisabled standard:

I first talked about this on instagram, and several friends who are speech therapists shared how belittled this phrase makes their patients feel. One even encouraged me to burn the shirt. That’s when I realized I needed to write a more permanent statement about ableist language.

People with dyslexia, those for whom English isn’t their first language, individuals with speech impediments (hi President Biden!), and folks who struggle with this whacky language for a variety of other reasons are not unintelligent because they struggle with the rules of grammar. Making fun of people or feeling superior because I’m more easily able to grasp rules cobbled together from numerous other languages isn’t cool or funny — it’s ignorant.

I haven’t worn this shirt in years (even though the blue is *chefs kiss* with my eyes). I turn the mugs around to keep the phrase out of pictures. And I definitely stopped using hashtags, etc, that displayed my previous arrogance.

I’m not entirely sure why, but the young adult writing community and the books that are published for that audience seem to be at the forefront of this constant language evolution. Whether it comes from teens’ use of slang and their propensity to create new words faster than the rest of us can keep up, but for years the younger generation has been more aware of how their words affect others and don’t fight our changing language the way some of us older folks sometimes do.

Being part of the children’s literature community, I feel like I’m more aware of these sensitivities. I think it’s because the words we choose and how we tell stories impacts young minds that are still forming how they view the world. Many of my writing friends do not write YA, and I’ve learned that a lot of these shifts in language have not trickled up to “adult” books. Which is why I’m writing about this.

Words I’ve learned not to use the hard way (by someone calling me out or correcting me):

• stupid
• spaz
• dumb

A few others worth mentioning:

• lame
• insane
• blind
• hysterical

We’ve all heard arguments that society is going overboard with the political correctness — or wokeness, for this decade — and that we need to stop worrying so much about these things. Aside from how insensitive and dismissive that mindset is of people for whom these words affect, it’s lazy. As a writer, eliminating ableist language from my work forces me to be more creative, to find better ways to describe how a character is acting or thinking.

As a human, I feel like making an extra effort to not make someone else feel dismissed, unworthy, or unseen is the least I can do. I live an extremely privileged life. It can be humbling and embarrassing to be told I’m wrong or insensitive, and I choose to learn and grow and try to be better.

Here are a few key things I try to live by:

• If I make a mistake, I work hard to correct it.
• If I offend someone directly (or even indirectly through a tweet, thread, post, etc), I apologize.
• If someone calls me out, I try not to get defensive. It’s okay to say “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was offensive. Thank you for educating me.”

We’re all human. We’re guaranteed to make mistakes, to unintentionally hurt other people. The difference is what we choose to do next.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

If you’d like to read others’ thoughts about ableist language, here are a few posts I found helpful:

• The Problem with Ableist Language
• Minding Your Words: Finding Alternatives to Replace Ableist Language
• Ableist Language: A Lesson for Authors (and Humans in General)
• Inclusive Language Matters in Children’s Literature
• Why You Need to Stop Using These Words and Phrases