Language is one of the ways we make ourselves known to each other. Words let us convey our feelings and ideas. Our choices about which words to use really matters. Here are some terms that concern me.
"Less fortunate." This is a feel-good phrase. It's completely unpoliticized, but usually appears in instances that call for political awareness. It also patronizes whoever it describes.
The phrase "less fortunate" has enjoyed seemingly unending ascendancy since I first became aware of it as a student in Margaret Thatcher's Britain. My adopted country was run by an alpha-PM who famously propagandized "there is no such thing as society, only individual men and women and families". Suddenly "less fortunate" was all over the place. We could now mindlessly believe that people slept in the streets, because they weren't as fortunate as those of us who had roofs over our heads. It was a matter of luck really ---nothing to do with Britain's dog-eat-dog economic system and the dismantling of the welfare state.
Closer to home, it's easier to believe that residents of Vancouver's Downtown Eastside are simply unlucky than to have to think about the structures that put them where they are. Certain charities cater to the "less fortunate" --food banks, at least in these parts, seem particularly fond of the phrase-- so when we donate, we feel good. I'm not sure about those on the receiving end, though.
"Atlantic Canada." This is a business concept that also gained currency in the ghastly right-wing atmosphere of the 1980s. Multi-national corporations didn't want to deal with four relatively small jurisdictions (Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland and Labrador). The federal government rapidly followed suit, rapidly centralizing their services and offices in Halifax --1000 kilometers from where I live. The federal government is almost invisible in my province, which raises the national unity issue. By the way, there are only three Maritime provinces: Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island.
"Native." Is it just me or does this word conjure up images of club-wielding cavemen? I know a lot of Indigenous people who recoil at this word. Terminology is always a matter of debate in Indigenous Canada and for good reason; settlers and lawmakers started things off by labelling Turtle Islanders "Indians." The continent's original people were and are Inuit, Navaho, Cree, Haida, Penoscot, Cherokee, Hopi, Mayan, etc. I try to say "Indigenous," because it's a good descriptor.
"Hispanic." Popular south of the border, this word is not unrelated to "Native". Prodded by Richard Nixon for a whole bunch of reasons, some policy wonk in Washington D.C. came up with it. One of five affirmative action categories in the United States, it doesn't describe the diversity of people it purports to describe. Although it's meant to, it doesn't capture the differences between --or the commonalities among-- the multitudes from Texas to Buenos Aires. Many of them don't even speak Spanish: Haitians and Brazilians, for example, as well as the millions of people who speak their Indigenous languages.
If we de-construct this word, it essentially means "them," not "us." Brown is the natural colour of the Americas, but we have no language to express this, and certainly not in a positive way. This is particularly true of North America. Richard Rodriguez really engages with this whole topic in his book Brown.
"Christian." Here again, I'm putting our neighbours in my line of (friendly) fire. To many of them, including much of their media, a "Christian" is a Southern-born, Protestant evangelical à la George Bush. (Actually the cowboy-wanna-be president was born in a posher bit of Connecticut, but you get my meaning).
As Social Edge readers know, the word "Christian" also includes Catholics steeped in liberation theology, members of the gently revolutionary United Church, Anglicans, Presbyterians... as well as those Christians that Americans are referring to when they use the word.
"Culture." I guess it's the anthropologist in me that chafes a little whenever I hear "culture" used as a noun. Especially when it alludes to curried chickpeas or Eastern European folk dances on Canada Day. Cultures, if we must, are outlooks, world-views, complexes of values, norms, and mores --much more than traditions. I wholeheartedly recommend Anthropology 101 for all!
Our individual and collective relationships to language, whether our mother tongues or languages we adopt, is so much a part of who we are. Words are precious. Words can change minds. Hey, words can even change the world.
Dr. Maura Hanrahan (maurahanrahan.com) is an anthropologist and best-selling Canadian author living in St. John's. The new feature on her web site "What I'm Reading" appears every Monday.