What’s in a name?
In many cultures, a name denotes a person’s gender. We are conditioned from early in life to regard names as masculine or feminine depending on their history and their last letters. Most names are unambiguous and suggest a specific, binary gender, although gender-neutral names have become more popular recently.
Adopting a new name and new pronouns is a central part of transition. The move from birth name to preferred name is about altering both how we think of ourselves and how we expect others to view us; the new name is a reflection of who we were, who we are, and who we hope to become. The choice can be a positive affirmation and a statement to one’s world that we, as individuals, have made the decision upon our own authority to pursue a different course for our existences than those anticipated by our family and society. It is an act of empowerment.
And after a lifetime of being referred to by signifiers we have considered inauthentic, new labels can be a liberation. In short, a lot is wrapped up in a name and pronoun.
Referring to people by their chosen name and pronoun is a basic demonstration of respect. How are others to know how to speak about someone in transition? There is a simple and obvious answer: ask. Politely. Trans people would generally prefer a respectful conversation about their correct name and pronoun than to have someone make a mistake based on an assumption or ignorance.
Transition can be jarring for outsiders, especially the adjustment to new names. Family, friends, and coworkers have known us by our birth names for years, sometimes decades. Our parents may have selected our birth names to honor a loved one who has passed or to reflect a sentiment important to them. Changing a name may give the impression that we are dismissing that legacy—that we are being hostile to our families or even to our cultural backgrounds. Our birth names and assigned genders are imprinted on their brains.
Many cisgender people—even allies—may have trouble using a person’s new name or pronoun. When trans people are misgendered or called the wrong name, it can be difficult to tell if someone is being rude, habitual, or simply clueless. For trans and gender-nonconforming people, the experience can sometimes be severely upsetting.
Some allies will be fine immediately; others will take time to adjust. Trans people have radically altered how we want others to understand us, and early transition is such a painful experience that we often crave compassion and empathy; it can be difficult for us to have kindness toward others when we are suffering ourselves. All we may yearn for during this time is a hug and acknowledgment, but this may be precisely when our allies are most distant.
Parents or others may need time to grieve an individual’s pretransition gender and the name associated with it, both because that name and gender may have been coupled with particular wishes and aspirations, and also because birth names often have other meanings important to those around us. It requires patience to remember that our families are transitioning as well. An adjustment that happens gradually may not be a sign of disrespect.
Other times people do not recognize just how profound a name and pronoun can be. Many trans and gender-nonconforming people find our birth names so dissonant that we become triggered simply by hearing them uttered. Our pretransition lives so often demanded that we endure daily bullying, stigma, shame, anxiety, and depression, that existence became chronic trauma. Our birth names often recall each and every moment when we were harassed by classmates or sat alone in our bedrooms in misery, hopeless and despairing that we could ever manifest the people we knew ourselves inside to be, aware that our families or loved ones or employers or communities might never accept us, and terrified of the violence we might encounter within our homes or when we stepped outdoors. To hear ourselves called by the wrong name can be an uncomfortable reminder of an earlier life we struggle to put behind us.
Some trans and gender-nonconforming people use the term “deadname” to refer to their birth names, making unambiguous that they consider themselves reborn as new individuals and that their pretransition names and identities are no longer in existence. “Deadnaming”—calling someone by their birth name—is a profound insult when done deliberately and is often used as a means to ridicule and reject our trans identities. An example of this is when conservative commentators purposely refer to Caitlyn Jenner as “Bruce,” a blatant dismissal of her as a woman and of trans people altogether. This is often extremely distressing to someone with a traumatic past or someone preferring to distance themselves from their pretransition identity.
Other trans people feel no such need to separate their current self from their past and consider their birth names to be signifiers of the people they once were and now have evolved beyond, much the way someone might have had a previous career or last name before marriage but no longer. These individuals judge it a historical truth that they once were that pretransition individual, with a different gender, name, and other attributes. And yet, though it may be less agonizing to such people, it remains just as inappropriate to call someone by a birth name or pronoun when that person has requested something else.
Many allies develop significant anxiety thinking about what a trans person would like to be called and wonder if they will inadvertently offend a person by asking about pronouns, whereas many trans people advise allies not to overthink it. In a 2014 speech at Haverford College in Pennsylvania, Laverne Cox told the students about a recent clinic visit during which a nurse had introduced himself by saying, “Hi, I’m David. My preferred pronouns are ‘he’ and ‘him.’ What about you?” Cox, despite presenting as clearly female, said that she wished more people would introduce themselves this way.
There is some discussion within trans communities about whether the word “preferred” should be used to describe a person’s pronouns, as many trans people feel that their pronouns are simply reflective of who they are and are not what they “prefer.” Instead of using the term “preferred gender pronoun,” or PGP, some trans people suggest that allies ask “What pronouns do you use?” or “What are your pronouns?”
Recently, many colleges have started to introduce the practice of asking for pronouns into classes and other activities. This has garnered considerable backlash from conservative professors and students. In 2016, the University of Michigan began to allow students to add their preferred pronouns to its database through the university’s website to inform professors of students’ pronouns. A Fox News opinion piece titled “Student Single-Handedly Defeats an Army of Gender Neutral Activists” praised a conservative student who logged in and, “in order to point out how absurd this new policy is,” gave himself the pronoun “His Majesty.”
In September 2016, University of Toronto psychology professor Jordan Peterson posted a video on YouTube titled “Professor Against Political Correctness: Part 1,” in which he spoke against a Canadian bill that would increase protections for gender identity and expression, and stated that he would refuse to use gender-neutral pronouns. More than 250 faculty members signed on to a letter in protest. Peterson, ignoring the presence of intersex and nonbinary people, later told a VICE reporter, “I don’t know what the options are if you’re not a man or a woman. . . . It’s not obvious to me how you can be both because those are, by definition, binary categories.”
Though many other professors have successfully integrated into their classrooms the practice of asking for gender pronouns, even some who are generally in support of transgender students have, at times, wondered about the potential drawbacks of having every student name their pronoun in a public setting. In a 2016 New York Times op-ed, Elizabeth Reis, a professor of gender studies at the City University of New York’s Macaulay Honors College, wrote that “this ice-breaking ritual, in my experience, is easy only for those for whom the answer is obvious. It can ‘out’ or isolate others, particularly those who are still considering their gender or who have just begun to transition.”
During one early class session, when Reis instructed the students to go around the room introducing themselves and giving their names and pronouns, one student who looked traditionally male gave a female name and pronouns. “This is the kind of student for whom we might think the pronoun exercise would be perfect,” wrote Reis. “Once she identified herself, no one would accidentally mis-gender her in class. But in fact, as the student explained to me later, having to say her pronouns in a room full of strangers terrified her. She would have preferred to state her female name and leave it at that.” After this experience, Reis tried a new strategy with her next class. She had students give their first names and add their pronouns if they desired. She wrote, “This strategy seemed to work. Half of the students disclosed their pronouns and the other half just introduced themselves in the standard way. No one became the object of scrutiny.”
Once someone has asked about another person’s pronouns, the next step is starting to use them. While switching from “he” to “she” (or vice versa) may be difficult for the network of allies and others surrounding binary transpeople, or around those who “pass,” it can be more problematic when the individual identifies as gender nonconforming, genderqueer, or as some other variety of nonbinary gender. Binary people fit into traditional norms, and so even if someone is changing which pronouns they use, the pronouns themselves are familiar.
Nonbinary people who feel their genders do not align with traditional cultural norms may use a wide variety of pronouns, or sometimes even none at all. “He” or “she” does not capture their identities and often feels too simplistic to encompass the more nuanced and complex genders of those outside the binary.
“They”/“their” is common, and though some people find this awkward because it might seem to imply a plural, it has historically been used to denote a singular individual when the gender of the person being referred to is not clear. For example, a professor might ask, “Who left their notebook here last week?” or a doctor might say, “Each patient should bring in a copy of their results.”
Genderfluid people whose sense of self fluctuates may even alter their preferred pronouns on a daily basis depending on their feelings or expressions on any given day, making it even more confusing to outsiders.
Other people use pronouns that are new or of their own invention, such as “xi”/“xir” and “ze”/“zir.” Some use their own name or initial as their pronoun. For example, Justin Vivian Bond, a trans performance artist, prefers the straightforward “V.”
Titles, like pronouns, can be male, female, or gender neutral. Most men use “Mr.,” and women generally choose from among “Miss,” “Mrs.,” and “Ms.” However, there are also a variety of gender neutral titles, such as “Mx.” (pronouned “mix”), “Misc.” (pronounced “misk”), and “Mre.” (pronounced like the word “mystery”).
Trans and gender-nonconforming people are addressing fundamental issues of our identities, our bodies, and how we relate to the world. Those who do their best to use our preferred names and pronouns allow us to feel respected and safe.
• “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m in the process of changing my gender. I just wanted you to know that I am now going by the name XYZ and prefer the pronoun PDQ.”
• You do not have to answer any additional questions if you do not want to.
• Stick up for yourself! And try educating them if you feel you can. While there is no need for more disclosure than is comfortable, you may be able to simply say, “I’m trans and go by the name X and prefer [male/female/neutral] pronouns.”
• Step 1: Politely say: “Can I ask what pronouns you use?”
• Step 2: After the person answers, say, “Thank you.”
• Step 3: Move on.
• Step 1: Apologize.
• Step 2: Move on.
• Making it into an “issue” is often more uncomfortable for the trans person than a simple acknowledgment.