How using trans-inclusive language benefits us all

16-year-old student BSK writes about how failure to use inclusive language erases the stories, struggles and experiences of gender-diverse people. (Courtesy of BSK)

16-year-old student BSK writes about how failure to use inclusive language erases the stories, struggles and experiences of gender-diverse people.

In early June, I went to a march for reproductive rights in my rural Wisconsin town. Like many people in the United States and around the world I was and am still angry about the overturning of Roe v. Wade, which ended the constitutional right to abortion in the U.S. I was hoping to feel a sense of camaraderie and strength in numbers.

However, things started to feel uncomfortable soon after my arrival. I had just finished making my sign and was waiting for my group to arrive when I took my first good look at the swath of protesters around me. What caught my eye were the signs. “I’m with her.” “Her body, her choice.” “The future is female.” And one word repeated on almost all of them: women. 

To most, this use of women-only language would seem fine as it is often the norm for marches and protests around reproductive rights. For me, it sparks a feeling of unease. I’m transgender, and this isn’t the first time I’ve found myself uncomfortable in a feminist space.  

There isn’t anything strictly wrong with the language I saw the protesters around me were using. It’s true that the Supreme Court’s decision will mostly affect cis women or women whose gender identity corresponds with the sex they were assigned at birth. The problem was the lack of any inclusive language at all. Transmasculine, genderqueer, gender-nonconforming, nonbinary and other people of gender-diverse identities all need access to reproductive health care, too. Including me. 

“Transmasculine, genderqueer, gender-nonconforming, nonbinary and other people of gender-diverse identities all need access to reproductive health care, too. Including me.”

— BSK

You may be hearing some of these terms for the first time, but the people who identify with them have always existed. Trans activists — such as Sylvia Rivera, Laverne Cox, Marsha P. Johnson, Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, Cecilia Chung and Alok Vaid-Menon — have always participated in movements for feminism, gay and queer rights, civil rights, the rights of disabled people and more. Yet trans and gender-diverse people are often excluded from these causes. In the case of Roe v. Wade, not only are we often actively excluded from the conversation, but the repercussions for our community are also misunderstood and usually go unaddressed. It is widely known that people of color have a harder time accessing reproductive care, including abortion, as do people under or near the poverty line. Many queer people are both, and face the added barrier of finding culturally competent care. 

The causes you care about may not affect just women and girls or may not affect all women and girls the same way. Anyone capable of giving birth — including transmasculine, nonbinary, gender-nonconforming and other gender diverse-people — may need period products, pap smears, contraception, competent prenatal care, safe and legal abortion access or childcare. Cis women, trans women, gender nonconforming, transmasculine, nonbinary and other gender-diverse people may need access to mammograms, lactation support, fertility services, contraception and shelter from domestic abuse and houselessness. And everyone, regardless of gender identity, has a right to access to education, culturally sensitive physical and mental health care, protection from discrimination in school, work and housing as well as respect and equal rights.

When discussing gender equality using inclusive terms such as “people who menstruate” and “pregnant people” as well as addressing groups as “folks,” “friends” or “siblings” acknowledge all who share the experience in question. For example, if a group of activists or community leaders is planning to address period poverty, they will cast a wider net if their efforts are addressed to all who menstruate. Many women, for various reasons, don’t menstruate, while people of other gender identities do and have unaddressed issues surrounding access. Directing efforts toward all people in need is more effective. The purpose of inclusive language is to include more people. It creates awareness of the existence of those who struggle outside the mainstream. It invites participation by those who otherwise may feel unwanted or excluded.

“When discussing gender equality using inclusive terms such as ‘people who menstruate’ and ‘pregnant people’ as well as addressing groups as ‘folks,’ ‘friends’ or ‘siblings’ acknowledge all who share the experience in question.”

— BSK

Failing to use inclusive language erases the stories, struggles and experiences of gender-diverse people from public knowledge and understanding, leading to stigma and a culture of violence. When I went to that march, the fact that neither the organizer’s speech nor my fellow protesters’ signs used inclusive language caused me to not want to put my time or energy into supporting that group. I couldn’t tell if they were unaware or being actively exclusionary, which made me concerned about my safety. At feminist gatherings like these, inclusive language signals to transgender and gender-nonconforming people that they are welcome. If you’re organizing an event, group or action, even something simple like putting an acknowledgment on your website, in an article or on a flier assures people that they will be safe in your space and educates everyone who comes into contact with the material about gender expansiveness and inclusivity.

Introducing yourself with your pronouns, calling friends and family out on transphobic and homophobic behaviors, being supportive to the LGBTQIA2S+ people in your life, and supporting LGBTQ+ charities and organizations are all small ways to be an ally. Furthermore, everyone — but especially activists working in the feminist space or toward reproductive justice — should educate themselves on the experience of trans people, both in their country and around the world. Follow trans activists and educators on social media, read our books, listen to our podcasts and watch our movies. Educate yourself with resources from trusted sources like The Trevor Project, Human Rights Watch and the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association. Learn about the unique histories of trans and gender-nonconforming people in different cultures and countries, like the stories of third gender Indigenous people from around the world, Muxes communities of Mexico or the hijra community in Pakistan, India and Bangladesh.

“It’s important that we cultivate a culture wherein hatred simply isn’t tolerated. It isn’t enough simply not to be transphobic; it is important to stand firmly and actively against transphobia, when it is expressed by friends, parents, relatives, teachers, professors, governments. It is important that a cis person uses that space of privilege to amplify our voices and stand by us as we fight for our rights.” — Dr. Trinetra Haldar Gummaraju, activist and doctor