Language Matters

On the train home from the National Women’s Martial Arts Federation Self Defense Instructors’ Conference, Jender and I were given to reflect on the incomparable Barrett Wilkenson’s workshop “Halting Hate and Harassment.”

We had planned to hit the bar car on the homeward trip—or abscond with a few of the beers thoughtfully left in my dorm room by the preceding occupant (most likely the Resident Advisor of a youth sport camp). In fact sheer exhaustion—and in my case an overwhelming sense of relief to be speeding away from the site of my largest commitment of the past six months—proved to be intoxicating enough. We laughed uncontrollably all the way home, falling into our own inside jokes like teenagers. I feel sure that other passengers moved away from us, and had I been less tired and hysterical I might even have noticed and settled down.

(I’m tempted to say I hadn’t laughed like that in a very long time, but to be honest I laughed just as hard on Tuesday night when a member of the NWMAF Board of Directors offered me a ride back to my dorm and instead took me—and three esteemed conference presenters—on a variation of Toad’s wild ride in a college-issue golf cart. There was a commuter rail platform, and a sheer drop above a two-lane highway with one of my martial arts foremothers muttering “Don’t look down, don’t look down,” and not a few onlookers surprised to discover the perpetrators of the golf-cart getaway joy-ride were, to all appearances, a collection of nice grown-up ladies. So much for appearances.)

Jender confided, “I’ve divested my vocabulary of a lot of biased language, but I have trouble not using the word ‘lame.’”

I had to admit that I have the same difficulty and it’s not only because the disabled member of my household endorses some measure of ablest speech, as when she drives through a parking lot ranting about the absence of “crip spots.” That’s insider talk and, according to Barrett, it’s pretty much ok. It’s not the same as a word synonymous with impaired mobility entering general usage to mean something diminished, unworthy, ineffectual or contemptible.

“John Stewart says ‘lame,’” said Jender. “Rachel Maddow says ‘lame’—a lot.” I know it cost her considerably to admit a flaw in her idol, Dr. Maddow.

Jender and I tried valiantly—in our depleted state—to find a substitution for ‘lame’ that we could both wholeheartedly endorse. We agreed that ‘lame’ is widely considered the unbiased upgrade to ‘queer,’ adopted by those of us who repudiate the equation queer=pathetic. Feminists now use ‘fail’ in the same way but I was a double-major in English and Women’s Studies and I can’t get behind incorrect usage. We’re looking for an adjective here.

Jender and I weren’t able to find a word we liked. For the remainder of our trip we settled for cracking each other up by declaring ourselves, our inability to communicate without the biased term in question, and anyone or thing uncool, pathetic or ineffectual that crossed our minds, “that thing formerly known as lame.” It was riotous in the way your own stupidity always is when you are tired and safe and with someone you really love.

A train ride through a dark night sets the scene for intimate confessions. I let Jender in on my deepest fear around letting go the word. “Maybe the answer is just to be a nicer person, someone who doesn’t need such a disparaging and dismissive term,” I told her. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to be that nice. I really think I still need a word like that.”

A good friend doesn’t let you wallow in such self-doubt for long, and Jender was on-the-spot. “There’s no need to be that nice,” she countered. Plenty of people still deserve the sentiment inaccurately attached to the word ‘lame.’ Us for example. Or people who persist in saying ‘lame.’

In the days since we’ve been home I’ve been astonished to notice the prevalence of ‘lame’ in common parlance. I’ve heard it used by a writer and social justice activist and by an academic and lay-preacher. I’ve seen it in print and heard it in song lyrics. It’s under the radar and in regular usage by nice, smart people who wouldn’t dream of using other biased language.

It seems relevant that one of things I overlooked in planning the SDIC conference was access for persons of different abilities. Despite the fact that I move with a differently-abled partner I have not come to expect that the world—or I, when I’m in charge of setting up some aspect of the world—should plan for differences in ability. Throughout my conference I saw auditory, visual and mobility challenges addressed through the patience and generosity of both the women affected and their companions, in much the same way that Sweetie and I adjust to whatever obstacles appear in her journeys. But their experience would have been so much better if I had planned for folks who hear, see or move differently than I can.

It proved Barrett’s point that language matters. A word carries with it history and all of its meanings. If one is able to use the word ‘lame’ without remembering that it first meant “disabled so that movement, especially walking, is difficult or impossible” then it becomes easy not to remember that some people are disabled so that movement, especially walking, is difficult or impossible. In speech and action, we acclimate to overlooking some portion of our community. We diminish our collective humanity.

We can do better than this. Settling for ableism in our language and in our world is not at all cool, in fact it’s quite—well, I haven’t found a word for it yet. But I’m looking.