How inclusive content analysis leads to more inclusive reporting practices
When I applied to Impact Architects as a research intern for a project about inclusive content productions, I knew exactly what I wanted from the position: a better understanding of inclusive language, and more importantly, the application of inclusive language in my own work.
Currently, I’m the emerging journalist fellow at Crosscut, a small digital publication in Seattle affiliated with the local PBS station. As a journalist, I’ve learned that as the world around us changes (and it is always changing), the way we report has to change with it.
Take, for example, the way we talk about gender. I remember reading a tweet in 2020 from Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling, where she commented on an article with the headline “Opinion: Creating a more equal post-COVID-19 world for people who menstruate.”
“‘People who menstruate,’” the author, who has since made many-a transphobic comment, wrote. “I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud?”
She came under fire, as expected. After all, it was pretty uncool of Rowling to mock a reporter’s legitimate care for being inclusive. But even just a decade ago, wording about only women being people who menstruate wouldn’t have turned heads. Assuming that only women can have periods was, well, normal.
But times have changed, and so the way that journalists write about the communities and individuals we cover must follow suit. I knew that this internship would open my eyes to words and verbiage that I otherwise wouldn’t have given a second thought to and make me more intentional with my writing.
In general, I’ve become sensitized to gendered language. When I write stories about theater, I don’t feel the need to distinguish “actors” from “actresses,” even if I am identifying them correctly.
Because, to be quite frank, why does it matter?
If I’m reviewing someone’s performance and artistic process, why should their gender matter? And why would I make it a point to include that detail when that can lead to negative preconceptions of the non-male actors? Even Rowling only used her first and middle initials as an author due to the negative stigma around female authors.
My close reading of articles from The Washington Post honed my eye to the use — and avoidance of — gendered language. Take, for example, this story about sustainable period products. Immediately in the first sentence, the reporter writes “a person who menstruates.” Not all of their stories did so — I flagged one guest column about breastfeeding for consistently referring to breastfeeders as women. Still, there’s evidence, such as with the former example, that show The Washington Post was already taking some care to employ inclusive language even before hiring Impact Architects on this project.
I’ve taken the perspective that if the reader assumes all the actors are men, or all the firefighters are men, or all the police officers are men, then that’s on them. I’m going to stick to using gender neutral terms as opposed to distinguishing actors from actresses, firemen from firewomen and policemen from policewomen. I don’t want the reader to make preconceptions based on my language. I just want to deliver information in the most unbiased way possible.
But there’s another thing to think about, too: my sources. How do they choose to be identified? Their preference is more important than what I may think is right. It’s their identification, and it’s their story that I am telling — their preference matters.
Hence why when I wrote a story focused on the LGBTQ+ community in Athens, Georgia, I was very clear with my sources about wording. How would they like me to define their sexuality? Do they see the word “queer” as a fluid, all-encompassing positive term, or as an offensive slur? Would they like for me to say “X person identifies as bisexual” or “X person is bisexual”?
These are important questions to ask. As I did my research, I flagged for times the language felt non-inclusive or stigmatizing, but it could very well be that the source preferred to be identified in that particular way. In that case, their preference trumps all. After all, this is their story and it is proper journalism to identify people the way that they say they identify.
While some may argue that utilizing inclusive language can be nitpicky, I think it’s exactly what it is: inclusive. Again, as the world changes, so must the way journalists write. If this research has taught me anything, it’s to ensure that I’m paying attention — to the world around me, and the language I’m using.
Nimra Ahmad is the emerging journalist fellow at Crosscut in Seattle. She covers arts and culture, features, and also works in audience engagement.
