The Power of Language

Dear Chemistry Colleagues,

When I was in the fifth grade I was put into the remedial reading class. My sister had been in the advanced reading class with the same teacher just the year before. I remember to this day my feelings of inadequacy and incompetence, and I remember feeling excluded. The teacher wasn’t bad, he wasn’t mean, and he wasn’t wrong—I struggled with reading for a long, long time. When I went to college I worked hard to overcome these limitations. I’m still a slow reader, but I came to discover that my disability is a gift too. When I read, I want to understand everything—every sentence, how it is constructed, and why the author chose this word and not that. And, I came to understand that there can be inherent beauty in writing, that you can convey your voice through writing once you find it. I like to think that my struggles made me a better writer and gave me the patience to be a good teacher.

Many years later, it pains me to think of the times that I’ve been on the giving end of similar actions. Little things that hurt others. Not giving the benefit of the doubt to a student who is struggling to make it to class, or another who is getting a D. Or assuming one student is better than another because of some test score. In the forward to Fred Rogers book, his wife tells the story of being impatient with someone and Fred saying, “But I wonder what his story is.” Each of us has our own story, and it is important to listen to it.

Last semester, Kristin Finch, Associate Dean of Diversity and Inclusion, ran a workshop for our department on “The Power of Language.” There was a very good turnout and impressively there was representation from across the department: students, postdocs, faculty, and staff. We broke out into small groups and discussed the effect of language: using “freshman” vs. “first year,” “female” vs “woman,” of “Latino/a” vs “Latinx” vs “Hispanic” and so on. For someone who loves language, I was drawn into this process. Kristin reminded us that we all have biases and we all make mistakes. It might be referring to someone by a name they don’t prefer and not even realizing it, or it might be providing a box to check on a form that makes a group feel left out because they cannot check that box. When we are the doers of these things and others point them out to us, there is only one choice: to say “I’m sorry and I’ll try to do better next time.” Anything else—“I didn’t mean that” or “You shouldn’t be so sensitive”—will only make things worse, possibly much worse. I’ve had to put this into practice a few times since becoming Department Head.

Not too long ago, someone I admire gave me the gift of an apology. Somewhat nervously, I pointed out how words this person had used had hurt someone in my group. That person came back right away and apologized to me. They said they had no excuses, and that they would try to do better next time. I now hold this person in even higher regard. Language is powerful, and it is always OK to say these words, “I’m sorry and I’ll try to do better next time.”

With Warm Wishes,

Phil