Pardon Me, Sir, But I Believe Your Water Just Broke

My friend Jane reminded me yesterday that I have a bone to pick about the latest victim of political correctness - pregnancy.

I'll admit to having a fair number of pet peeves with regards to diction, and the use of gender-neutral language where the ability to bear children is concerned is definitely one of them. I don't know why it bothers me so much when I hear reference to "a pregnant person." At least, I didn't know why. But, the more I think about it, the more my raised hackles make sense.

When it comes to what is known as "politically correct language" (usually by those who don't like being told to use it), I tend to be a fairly avid supporter. Words define us. Tell a child he's stupid and just see if you get any A's on the ol' report card. Consistently use the word "chef" alongside the masculine pronoun and you've probably made it more difficult for your daughter to even consider entering Le Cordon Bleu School for the Culinary Arts.

Because of this, I believe that we can speak the change we wish to see in the world (to paraphrase Gandhi). We can use words in ways that empower, that encourage, and that engender change, simply by choosing to speak them. The opposite, of course, is true - consider the troubled history of the "N-word" - ostensibly a collection of six letters, but in reality so much more.

I remember the first time I heard a writer referred to as "she" - it was startling (and saddening, to realize that I'd always pictured an old white guy with pen in hand). Or the first time I prayed to "God the Mother." The seemingly simple use of the feminine pronoun opened up a space of possibility that didn't exist for me before.

I absolutely believe in using gender neutral language when it makes sense (hearing my daughter use "him or her" the other day warmed the cockles of my heart extraordinarily); firefighter vs. fireman and you could check with your local public health nurse and ask him what he might suggest are powerful choices that present possibilities. Breaking stereotypes in our choices of pronouns has the power to create alternative worldviews and give those around us a new, grander framework.

But "pregnant person" is a meaningless use of inclusive language that undermines far more appropriate attempts towards the de-masculinization of language. To assume that simply replacing "he" with "s/he" and "pregnant woman" with "pregnant person" will somehow usher in a utopia of equality is at best, silly and, at worst, makes questionable the very values such usage purports to uphold. Using the words "pregnant people" does not bespeak possibility; even if we all make a point to be uber-PC and make labour and delivery an equal-opportunity employer, I suspect I will not soon see a man in Thyme Maternity holding up the latest fashion and wondering how soon his belly will have grown enough so that he can wear it.

The ridiculousness of "pregnant person" strikes a blow against all inclusive language; it renders the use of gender-neutral language meaningless and, in so doing, undermines other attempts to change the way people view the world.

Am I being too strict? Perhaps. But I can't help but feel that the well-intentioned but misguided use of "pregnant person" suggests that language that promotes equality of the sexes is about as effective as asking me to turn my head and cough or The Husband taking pre-natal vitamins.