It was just the other day when a colleague casually remarked that the word “gay” was simply part of the common vernacular, essentially meaning “stupid.” As someone dedicated to education, and particularly on a platform like learns.edu.vn, specializing in educational content, this comment struck a nerve. How can we, as educators and role models, genuinely advocate for acceptance among our students if we ourselves don’t model respectful language? I knew I had to address this, much like in previous situations where speaking up was crucial.
Context is everything when it comes to these sensitive conversations. In the past, I’ve learned that misjudging the setting can shut down dialogue before it even begins. However, this was a peer, and we were in a relaxed environment, offering the perfect opportunity for an educational approach. Drawing on the principles of constructive dialogue, I decided to gently challenge this perspective.
“We work with students,” I began, “some of whom may already be navigating their identity as LGBTQ+. Using ‘gay’ as a synonym for ‘stupid’ can deeply invalidate their feelings and make them feel like their very being is equated with something negative.”
My coworker offered a shrug and a vague defense about “culture,” a common deflection when confronted with ingrained habits.
Undeterred, I continued, striving to maintain a calm and informative tone. “When I hear students using words like that, my first step is always to understand their intent. I ask them, ‘What do you mean when you use that word?’ Then, and this is crucial, I always guide them to choose a different word.”
“And how effective is that, really?” my coworker questioned, a valid point.
It’s true, it’s not always a simple fix. The “choose another word” strategy, something I adopted from another insightful educator, can be challenging even for adults. With students, the dynamic is different, often easier due to the inherent teacher-student authority. However, this authority also presents a limitation. While we can train students to avoid certain words in our presence, are we truly fostering a deeper understanding of why thoughtful word choice matters? When we ask for alternative words, we must also teach them how and why to choose words that build up, not tear down.
I’m reminded of a student who habitually declared she couldn’t complete tasks because she was “retarded.” “I can say it,” she’d argue, “because that’s what I am,” referencing her special education status.
There’s a distinction between reclaiming a term and internalizing a harmful label. In her case, this young elementary student seemed to be accepting a limiting label imposed by others, using it as a barrier to avoid challenging herself. So, beyond simply asking her to “choose a different word” when describing herself or others, I began highlighting her strengths. I pointed out her talents – crafting beautiful tissue paper flowers, crocheting intricate patterns, mastering the hula hoop, and inventing games that captivated her peers. I also engaged her in conversation, asking what the word “retarded” meant to her and if she understood why I wanted her to consider different language. When she didn’t understand, I explained my reasoning clearly and patiently.
Over just two months, a noticeable shift occurred. She stopped using the r-word to describe herself. Furthermore, the other students in our after-school program followed suit, at least during program hours. We initiated community meetings, focusing on the power of building each other up through positive language, rather than tearing down with hurtful words. We explored the true meaning of friendship and what it means to be a supportive friend. We even made it a daily practice to reflect on and share actions we took to make someone else’s day better. This consistent effort to cultivate a positive language environment, focusing on other words to use instead of offensive language, made a tangible difference.
Summarizing this nuanced transformation for my coworker, I simply stated, “Mostly, it works. It’s an expectation I set, and my students understand that.”
“I talk to my students too,” my coworker conceded. “But it’s just so ingrained, you know?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “But we can still hold students accountable for their language. We can actively work to combat the bullying that’s often embedded in name-calling.”
In that conversation, I consciously chose my words with care, aiming to keep the dialogue open and ongoing. There are many avenues for educators to advocate for respectful communication. While past approaches of direct confrontation sometimes led to defensiveness, framing this discussion around our shared responsibility to guide students in their word choices resonated with my colleague. By emphasizing the impact of language on young people, I could subtly demonstrate the importance of choosing alternative vocabulary that uplifts and includes, rather than diminishes and excludes. This conversation, focused on finding other words for hurtful terms, became a small but significant step towards fostering a more compassionate and understanding environment for everyone we teach.
