Helen Murray | 2017
Many people oppose the idea of linguistic injury or, simply, the idea that words can hurt. This in turn leads to an opposition to political correctness. We elected a president simply because he said whatever he wanted to without thinking about being what we would call politically correct. Donald Trump said, “I think the big problem this country has is being politically correct.” Political correctness is viewed in a negative light by many, but it used to be a term that simply referred to the proper stance that one should take in politics on certain issues in order to be inclusive and appeal to everyone, even marginalized groups. Historically this term has been used to disparage different groups, but currently there seems to be a war against political correctness. People want to be able to say whatever they want and don’t seem to care about who may be hurt as a result of their words. Apparently, there is no time to be politically correct and many people are far too easily offended these days.
The reason many people oppose the idea of political correctness and, more specifically, the idea of linguistic injury, is because of a misconception surrounding the terms. Linguistic injury is not harm done purposely on another human being through words. It’s no longer trendy to be racist, so to insinuate such a thing in any way eliminates any opportunity for understanding. Political correctness can lead to less linguistic injury because linguistic injury has to do with interpretation as opposed to intention. There is almost always a disconnect between what a person says and how the other person interprets that utterance. Linguistic injury can be defined as the negative psychological effect of a given speech act on a given subject or subjects. An attempt to be politically correct, or sensitive to the extra space for interpretation that naturally arises in interactions between members of different identity groups, can be a way to combat it. Even though it can be unclear how and why linguistic injury arises, the damaging effects it can have on a person should not be ignored.
Judith Butler has worked hard to understand linguistic injury and where it may come from. She suggests that it does not originate from either of the subjects involved in such an interaction, but instead points to a “more temporally expansive ‘doing’” This suggests that there is something systemic at work in all of our interactions. There is a third subject involved in interactions which is the present and historical context provided by our society and the institutions we uphold. Butler talks a little bit more about this idea here:
Does tracing the injury to the act of a subject… not unwittingly stall the analysis of how precisely discourse produces injury by taking the subject and its spoken deed as the proper place of departure… How are we to understand the relation between the word and the wound? If it is not a causal relation, and not the materialization of an intention, it is perhaps a kind of discursive transitivity that needs to be specified in its historicity and its violence? What is the relation between this transitivity and the power to injure?
She poses a lot of questions which suggest areas to look at when trying to piece together the puzzle of linguistic injury. The first question challenges the notion that the proper place to examine discourse is at the level of the subject. Butler is claiming that may not be where linguistic injury originates, and that it is detrimental to view the subject that way. This leads Butler to also wonder about the relation between word and wound, deciding it cannot be a causal relationship (word leading to wound), and it has little to do with intention. Butler then leads us to this idea of “discursive transitivity,” calling for our discourse to instead be grounded in the history and violence of our society, briefly mentioning power. Power has everything to do with linguistic injury, and is a major factor in the ability of words to harm. Butler later speaks to what she believes is happening when someone utters something that is taken to be linguistic injury, “When the injurious term injures (and let me make it clear that I think it does), it works its injury precisely through the accumulation and dissimulation of its force. The speaker who utters the racial slur is thus citing that slur, making linguistic community with a history of speakers.” Butler, here, is calling to attention to the build up that can happen with linguistic injury. It is not just about what was said right now, or even today, it’s about the history behind today’s utterance. That’s what makes linguistic injury very real for many people.
There are a few different kinds of linguistic injury. One example is the microaggression. Microaggressions, specifically racial microaggressions, stem from more explicit and overt racist speech acts. Microaggressions can be more harmful in that they are harder for victims and perpetrators to understand and make sense of. It is no longer trendy to be racist, and some may say we are in a colorblind and post racial society, so how can one make sense of microaggressions? It is the doubt on both sides that makes them dangerous and the necessary interpretation on the side of one receiving the microaggression. Only in recent literature, both academic and creative, have microaggressions been acknowledged as linguistic injury.
Microaggressions are a moment in which a person’s race, gender, or other aspect of identity is called attention to which can momentarily seem reduce them down to that identity. It is a refusal to acknowledge the other parts of their identity, and it is a moment of objectification. Martin Buber would categorize a microaggressive speech act as an interaction in the I-It mode, as opposed to the I-You. The I-It is an objectifying mode of interaction. It doesn’t allow for much complexity on the other side. The I-You implies there are two subjects who view each other as such. A microaggression is, therefore, a reduction. It is an assumption based on a small piece of knowledge one may have about a person. That small piece of knowledge, or perceived knowledge, is inflated in significance in such a way that leaves little space for imagining a complex human.
Attempting to be politically correct can be a way to avoid such a reducing interaction. Inherent in an attempt to be politically correct is an awareness of how the things one says could affect others who have different life experiences. The objectification of microaggressions comes from power and this power comes from societal structures outside of our control. An awareness of them and of where we stand within them goes a long way. Butler speaks on this and according to her, “The power to race and, indeed, the power to gender, precedes the ‘one’ who speaks such power, and yet the one who speaks nevertheless appears to have that power.” There are different levels of power and interpretation inherent in microaggressions, which contributes to the complexities that cause the psychological damage or linguistic injury.
When reading Claudia Rankine’s book, Citizen, many of the situations she described resonated with me because I have either seen or experienced similar incidents. The way she described the psychological effects was also incredibly powerful. At the end of the third section of the book Rankine eloquently describes the psychological effect of linguistic injury, specifically microaggressions:
You take in things you don’t want all the time. The second you hear or see some ordinary moment, all its intended targets, all the meanings behind the retreating seconds, as far as you are able to see, come into focus. Hold up, did you just hear, did you just say, did you just see, did you just do that? Then the voice in your head silently tells you to take your foot off your throat because just getting along shouldn’t be an ambition.
The first thing that Rankine makes clear is that these microaggressive interactions are unwanted. Despite good intentions, microaggressions are clearly burdensome. She also hints at the inescapable context and history that she and others who experience this sort of linguistic injury are forced to be aware of. Someone who says or does something that is considered microaggressive most likely believes there is nothing wrong, but that comes from a lack of awareness of the context and history. This fact also makes dealing with microaggressions more difficult, because the blame rests on the context of the interaction, the somewhat violent history of the American people, and the society in which we live. Black Americans have historically not gotten the same opportunities as white Americans. Although many wish to believe great strides have been made, not everyone feels the same way and there is evidence showing we still have a great deal more to do.
Linguistic injury is something I am all too familiar with. I often feel unseen for who I actually am after being reduced and objectified by people who do not wish to acknowledge who I am. As a mixed race woman I am assumed to have certain life experiences and I am seen not for who I am but for who others want me to be, whether it is white, black, or neither. The diluted appearance of my blackness and seemingly “white” way of talking makes people feel comfortable and almost seems to invite microaggressions. People make the connection between their own words and our historical context even less because I am sometimes assumed to be on the privileged side of that context. It is true I hold a great deal of privilege, but race and privilege exist on a spectrum and not a binary.
“Your hair color is so lovely. It goes with your skin tone so well,” An older woman in a coffee shop thought she was paying me a compliment, but it felt… wrong.
“Are you upset about the police shooting young Black men?” Everyone assumed I would feel a connection to the Black Lives Matter movement, but that movement is what awakened my racial identity. Isn’t everybody upset by these shootings? You don’t have to be black to recognize injustice.
“Where are you from?” A common question, no doubt one that comes from a place of innocent curiosity. There is an othering inherent in the question and an assumption that my answer will not be America.
“Can we get more people of color talking, please?” There is an underlying assumption there based on stereotypes I will never live up to. This moment, more than any other, showed me that race is often seen as a binary when it should not be. Being well spoken and having an understanding of multiple points of view is associated with whiteness. That is a part of my identity, but blackness is also a part of it.
There is a kind of linguistic injury I will never be able to fully understand, and that is the forced erasure of language that many identity groups in America have had to deal with. This kind of linguistic injury has less to do with speech acts that contribute to psychological harm and more to do with controlling speech as a way to control identity which then leads to psychological harm. Attacking one’s form of expression in order to censor them is a violation of the first amendment, but a fear of difference means America continues to do it anyway. This “linguistic terrorism,” which is the word Gloria Anzaldua uses for what we are calling linguistic injury in this piece, is something that she, a woman whose identity is somewhere between English and Spanish but at the same time is not either, grapples with in her work. Using the term linguistic terrorism takes into account just how damaging this is to entire groups of people. She reflects on the power of linguistic terrorism:
So, if you want to really hurt me, talk badly about my language. Ethnic identity is twin skin to linguistic identity–I am my language. Until I can take pride in my language, I cannot take pride in myself. Until I can accept as legitimate Chicano Texas Spanish, Tex-Mex and all the other languages I speak I cannot accept legitimacy of myself… I will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing.
The destabilizing effect that linguistic terrorism seems to have on identity is evident here. Anzaldua feels ashamed of her language and thus feels ashamed of her identity. She questions her personhood and feels vast amounts of discomfort when unable to take pride in her language and her identity. In the last line we see a strength coming through in her insistence that she “will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing.” Not everyone can arrive at this declaration in the same way, however. When the institutional power structures consistently subjugate marginalized groups it can be difficult to ignore that fact and insist on one’s own personhood.
George Yancy reflects on his own connection to the African American Language or AAL. He challenges the dominant discourse surrounding language in academic papers by using AAL in an academic setting. To no one’s surprise, he faced criticism for doing so which he briefly addresses, “By using AAL I had somehow fallen from the true heights of academic professionalism and broken the norms of respectable philosophy-speak. Indeed, perhaps he thought I was being ‘too black’ in my speech, not white enough, not ‘proper’ enough.” It is evident in what Yancy says here that there are some forms of speech that are equated with whiteness and some that are equated with blackness. “White” speech is often privileged. The association of “white” speech as good and AAL as bad is internalized by the marginalized groups destabilizing the identity they hold dear. White, English speaking America is afraid of any language or identity that is different. Difference cannot be controlled. As Frantz Fanon, a revolutionary writer, once said, “Mastery of language affords remarkable power.” He was absolutely right. Not only can a person, entity, or institution control another through control of language, one can also maintain systems of power and oppression. The group in power can also decide what mastery of language looks like, which is another way to control expression and identity. An attempt to control language and identity comes from fear, but also from ignorance.
As a person who speaks Standard English I do not feel any strong attachment to my language because I have never had to fight for it. I can draw parallels between the two forms of linguistic injury, however. Both are caused by institutional power and oppressive structures in our society yet also work to maintain them. Both do not originate from an individual, but are actually caused by something much larger. Both cause deep psychological damage and destabilize identity through objectification and reduction as well as ignorance. It is clear that all forms of linguistic injury, whether microaggressive speech acts or linguistic terrorism against a marginalized group for their way of speaking, are detrimental, but is there a way to combat it? If there is, it can be hard to know what that solution or alternative might look like.
A good place to start could be no longer demonizing political correctness. There is a reason why many people make an attempt to say things that do not offend marginalized people. Educating yourself and those around you is a good start. Understanding what does and does not have negative and oppressive historical context for specific groups can go a long way when it comes to limiting microaggressive speech acts. Making an attempt to understand and empathize with a need for distinct languages can go a long way when it comes to cutting back on linguistic terrorism and forced assimilation of language and culture. Political correctness should not be demonized as it now is. An acknowledgement of complexity and difference when it comes to identity could also be a form of resistance.
Instead of seeking simplicity and reduction, we could make room for complexity that is inherent in being a human being and make sure that there is adequate representation of that complexity. Gloria Anzaldua, as a Chicana, occupies a sort of border culture which is not one side or the other, but something different entirely. An attempt to split identity and only represent both sides separately is a reduction. The most powerful thing Anzaldua did was expose her students to Chicano books and read them herself. This sort of exposure could accomplish a lot in the fight against linguistic injury, specifically the linguistic terrorism that Anzaldua talks about.
Discourse tends to fall into patterns, creating a dominant discourse. Making room for plurality and multiple discourses could be a way to achieving less linguistic injury. Every person wants a way to express the different experiences we go through. Yancy discusses how black people in America began to try and find ways to express their unique experience. In his writing he quotes Geneva Smitherman, also known as Docta G:
“The emergence of the Black Freedom Struggle marked a fundamental shift in linguistic consciousness as Black intellectuals, scholar-activists, and writer-artists deliberately and consciously engaged in an unprecedented search for a language to express Black identity and the Black condition.”
Here we see an important term, “linguistic consciousness,” being used. This term seems to suggest the importance of language not only to our identity but also to how we make sense of the world. The reason an attempt to express difference through alternate languages and cultures is scary to those in power is because of the power inherent in being able to make sense of the world. There is a lot of power inherent in the position of sense-maker. By building a powerful sense-making tool in the form of language, the black people involved in the freedom struggle were searching for freedom through language and freedom from language.
There is, however, a fundamental problem with how we communicate that seems to cross boundaries of language. Nonviolent communication, as popularized by Marshall Rosenberg seeks to change our inherently violent way of speaking Rosenberg claims to have solutions to every problem that may come up between two people or even two groups of people. People are not inherently violent, exploitative, and selfish, but they learn to be that way because of the language we have learned, how we have been taught to think and communicate, and the specific strategies we have picked up to influence others. Rosenberg claims that we all have the same needs regardless of race, gender, educational level, etc. and that the only thing different is the strategies we utilize to pursue those needs. This is an admirable position to take, but it is arguably a colorblind one. Our race, gender, or other identifiers may not dictate our needs, but they do often dictate who is privileged enough to pursue their needs. Rosenberg does not acknowledge the temporally expansive “doing” that Butler does, and so the strategy of nonviolent communication is incomplete, lacking key context and historical understanding.
All interactions have not two, but three participants. The third participant is the historical context or the temporally expansive doing that Butler described. In many of the situations Rosenberg describes, he pushes the two parties to arrive at an understanding of their needs by filtering through the violence of what they are saying and the strategy to get to the common needs. In a way, he plays the part of the third party influence, but clearly sometimes lacks an understanding the historical context that many conflicts come from. There is very little acknowledgement on his part of the many factors that lead to conflict in his evident desire to treat all conflict the same. Rosenberg utilizes the same steps and often very similar language when addressing all of the conflicts he mediates, not leaving room for alternative discourses or language.
At one point Rosenberg deliberately attacks an important tool many people utilize because it is a violent communication technique. He claims that labelling or judging a person as sexist or racist eliminates our power to get what we need. This almost makes sense, because if a person is called racist or sexist they usually react negatively, which then makes it impossible to have a rational discussion. Is it bad to apply that label and not vocalize it? To not do so suggests an ignorance of structural sexism and racism. Is this desirable to Rosenberg and should it be an aim in nonviolent communication? Being aware of the systematic oppression in this country is important when engaging in nonviolent communication or any kind of communication, because that is the first step we can take in fighting linguistic injury. Linguistic injury is violent communication.
Nonviolent communication may be problematic in some regards, but there is value in a desire to speak in a less violent manner. Utilizing some aspects of nonviolent communication while taking into consideration the structures and historical context we are operating within would be worthwhile. It is important to remember that it isn’t the individual speech act that causes linguistic injury, but that speech act utilizes historical context to undermine a person’s complex identity and ability to make sense of their experiences. Microaggressions destabilize and cause discomfort through objectification, narrowing in on an aspect of identity which is often interpreted through stereotypes. The erasure and forced assimilation of language causes shame and takes away the means to communicate and understand specific experiences. Both have extremely negative psychological effects which should not be ignored. Political correctness should not be demonized because it is a worthwhile goal which can begin to fight linguistic injury. Many people, in their interactions, are misguided but it is through no fault of their own. People oppose the idea of linguistic injury and political correctness because of misinformation or a lack of information. The society in which we live has gradually demonized political correctness, propagated violent speech, and maintained a status quo that subjugates specific groups of people while leaving little room for alternative discourses. An awareness of those powers at work when we are interacting with each other would go a long way.
Works Cited
Anzaldua, Gloria. How to tame a wild tongue. na, 1987.
Buber, Martin, and Ronald Gregor Smith. I and thou. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2013.
Butler, Judith. “Burning acts: Injurious speech.” U. Chi. L. Sch. Roundtable 3 (1996): 199.
Chow, Kat. “‘Politically Correct’: The Phrase Has Gone From Wisdom To Weapon.” NPR. December 14, 2016. Accessed December 10, 2017.
George Yancy. “Geneva Smitherman: The Social Ontology of African-American Language, the Power of Nommo, and the Dynamics of Resistance and Identity Through Language.”
Rankine, Claudia. Citizen: An American lyric., UK: Penguin Books, 2015.
Rosenberg, Marshall B. Living nonviolent communication: practical tools to connect and communicate skillfully in every situation. Boulder, CO: Sounds true, 2012.