I really like this series, it gave me a gift of realizing that “low intelligence” isn’t morally or objectively worse than high, which is quite hard to wrap my head around but liberating. I have shared it with a few friends and they were willing to think about it hypothetically but disagreed. But we’ll see.

The only word from the list I am not letting go of is scab, because strike breakers minimize the effect of the strike to the organization like a scab does. But I will probably not say it, I just won’t worry that I should be correcting people who use it. (And it is a bit relevant as my school is in the throes of protesting a huge fee increase and reduced funding for student workers and grad students. Oh, California…)

Also: You (generalized you) don’t get to decide how someone hears what you say. Especially if that someone is a marginalized person and you are speaking from a position of privilege. This is a fundamental concept of social justice language work.

You don’t have to change how you talk, either. We certainly aren’t going to stop you as long as you aren’t using abusive language here. If it makes you uncomfortable to have it pointed out that your use of language is privileged, that’s how it works. Examination of internalized privilege is always uncomfortable. It stings when I do it. But it’s my responsibility to live with that discomfort because it’s certainly not worse than the discomfort of actually living with institutional discrimination.

But– and this is a legitimate question/thought on my part, so please don’t assume I’m trolling, and I’m sorry if it’s offensive– thinking about it, I don’t entirely understand what makes language ableist or not ableist. It seems to be different from the idea of racist or sexist language. Some of the words mentioned have legitimate definitions that don’t have anything to do with disability. When I refer to something as “crazy,” I’m not implicitly invoking a comparison with a “crazy person,” but trying to invoke one of the other definitions. Is the idea that, presumably, these other definitions came out of the use of “crazy” as a descriptor of disability? Most of them didn’t, though– the primary definitions for “crazy” date back to about the same time. Is something considered ableist if any of its definitions apply to disability?

Thanks for the clarification; this is a very interesting idea!

That’s a good way to put it.

However, I’m trying to erase it from the rest of my speaking and from conversation on the internet – it’s easier in writing, because you can look back and there’s a delete key! (or a mod) It also makes you more creative – you don’t rely on the “crutch” of ableist words – it’s like when an English teacher bans a word from the class or when you have to write a definition in French.

I’m not making fun of people who object to certain words, I think it’s a matter of being polite, being a decent person to abide by their wishes.

What gets me is that my sister REFUSES to do so. I hate people using “gay” as their go-to word for something or someone annoying, or stupid. My mom still says, “You’re dad’s so gay – sorry he’s…”

But Becky… I once talked to her and her friend and asked them to stop. They started calling things “homosexual” instead. If I can barely get my mom to not say gay, I don’t have high hopes for the ableist terms we use.