Recently, a friend shared the manuscript of a book he was writing and asked me for constructive critique. The book was a teaching and discussion guide for teenagers on a hot button topic and was written primarily for kids in Sri Lanka.
The book was engaging as a teaching guide, as it narrated the life of a young teen.
What caught my attention was that all the characters had names like Chris, Morgan, and John.
It took me back to my childhood where I read books about girls called Barbara and Jessica plucking blackberries in the summer.
There were never stories with girls called Randika or Roshi enjoying a juicy mango or a rambutan.
So in our pretend play games, we too became Barbara and Jessica.
Because we were never in the stories.
So when my friend asked for feedback, I told him that since the book was written first for Sri Lankan kids, that it would be great to see names, places and activities that were local to Sri Lanka.
My friend responded “I thought about that, but I wanted to keep it neutral because I want it to be used elsewhere also.”
This got me thinking—is language ever truly neutral?
Who gets to BE the neutral standard? Who decides this?
As a grant writer, I try to be conscious and thoughtful of the language I use to describe, particularly when it comes to describing the people and communities that are supported by various nonprofits.
When I write “people without homes” or “people experiencing homelessness” it feels like it gives more dignity to the people than saying “homeless person.”
Here’s the question though;
How do the people experiencing homelessness want their situation to be described?
And what if different people have different preferences on language?
Who gets to decide?
I don’t have the answers. But I do believe language is rarely, if ever, neutral.
I’d love to hear what you think.