The Power of Inclusive Language

I recently worked with 7th and 8th grade students and school faculty as a disability inclusion advocate and coach. I had previously been a teacher in this school. As I entered the building, I was met with the statement, “have you seen your students? They are Giants!” I was somewhat stunned and not sure how to respond without offending her. Many thoughts ran through my mind. This well meaning person was referring to a group of students I taught when they were in first grade. They are now seventh graders. Indeed, many of them are tall, all of them are definitely taller than I. What she meant was that the students had grown and matured. Had she used these more accurate words to describe the class, I would have not felt offended. Given that this was a parent with whom I had a friendly relationship, and I was giving a presentation on disability awareness to my former class, I took the high road. I politely responded, “Yes, I’ve seen them and I’m very excited to be bringing disability awareness to these students.” Her comment reinforced that my work is essential and necessary.

Accurate and respectful language are powerful tools when describing a person. As a person with dwarfism, I often find the use of the words big and little to be misused. Big and little refer to size. However, these simple descriptive words can be problematic and carry bias. I found the following definitions in the Webster’s Dictionary for Students.

Indeed small does describe size, very young children are small. As an adult, I am also small and have always been small in stature. Big often connotes strength, power, of great importance. Big is considered the ultimate goal, to be big is “better.” The message given to children who are growing, maturing, becoming more independent and older is “You’re so BIG!” To be big is considered an achievement, something to feel proud about, better than being small.

Within the teaching communities that I have worked, I often hear the youngest children (preschoolers, kindergartners and first graders) referred to as the “littles” or “the little ones” instead of younger ones. Years ago, a colleague once referred to the preschoolers as the “little littles.” I responded, “exactly how little are they?”

I’m less prickly now and acutely aware of the necessity in educating adults to use accurate language that isn’t condescending, pejorative or carries bias. My emphasis is to educate and inform people about these terms and suggest alternative more accurate ones. It takes a conscious effort and a willingness on the other person’s part to change habitual language. It also requires a great deal of tolerance and patience on my part. This is the work I have chosen to do.

Over the years, my daughter, students I have taught and I, have heard poems, watched plays and seen films in which a person’s shorter stature is ridiculed. This also happens for particularly tall people who are taller than what is considered to be average height.

Years ago, after witnessing a class play in which the students walked on their knees in the attempt to play gnomes, one student, who was short by average size standards, said, “I started to feel bad for myself when they did this and then I looked over at Ms. Weber and thought of how she must feel.” This sparked thoughtful and meaningful conversations. It was then that I started using the phrase “small and mighty.” This same student repeated, “small and mighty. I like that!” After I cooled off and composed myself, I later spoke with the colleague who directed the play. It was a difficult and ultimately important conversation. Needless to say, my colleague felt terrible by his unintentionally hurtful and ignorant actions. He apologized and we moved on.

All my life I have had to educate others about my dwarfism. My disability is a visible one that sparks curiosity. I understand the curiosity. I also will not tolerate disrespect, ignorance or bigotry towards myself or anyone else. I have been fortunate to have many allies including my family, friends, colleagues and the students whom I taught. Through our relationships and open conversations, my students and their parents demonstrated their ability to be advocates for people with dwarfism such as myself.

*Stay tuned for my blog on gnome culture and an incident in which a seven year old thought I was a gnome.