This is a guest post by Ártemis López, a native of Spain and an ATA-certified translator (ES>EN) and CCHI-certified Spanish healthcare interpreter based in Washington, D.C. They have been interpreting and translating for D.C.’s queer, trans, and non-binary communities since 2011. At the 2018 American Translators Association conference, Ártemis presented a session on the challenges of “de-gendering” when we translate and interpret from or into languages with grammatical gender, and especially when we translate or interpret for LGBTQ clients. The presentation received rave reviews, which prompted me (Corinne) to request a guest post from Ártemis on this topic.
As translators and interpreters, most of us are familiar with the idea of binary inclusive language (i.e. using “he or she” to designate “any random person”). The difference between the binary (i.e., limited to men and women) approach to inclusive language and non-binary inclusive language can be best explained in the singular. Imagine an e-mail sent to all staff of a store. The email could read, “If a customer needs help, ask him or her what he or she needs.” We know the email isn’t referring to one singular person: although the email says “customer,” there must be many customers, some of whom are male and some of whom are female. It really means, “If one of our male customers needs help, ask him what he needs, and if one of our female customers needs help, ask her what she needs.” While this sentence is inclusive of women, it remains binary and ignores people who are not male or female.
A non-binary person (i.e., someone who doesn’t identify as solely male or solely female—perhaps the person identifies as a mix of the two, as neither, or as something else entirely) cannot be referred to as “he or she,” or by any other binary inclusive construction.* It could be argued that they are included in sentences that are grammatically singular but semantically plural–like the email in the paragraph above–but it would be both erroneous and dated to maintain that binary construction in regular speech: “I saw Alex at the store and he or she said that his or her advisor liked his or her dissertation!”
There are many reasons to care about truly inclusive language, the most important being that non-binary people exist and deserve to be acknowledged. For translators and interpreters, there’s another reason: we have a responsibility to honor the true meaning of the source. One of my go-to examples is a local organization’s bilingual (EN/ES) intake paperwork, which tries to be inclusive by asking for the person’s pronouns but gives these options: “he/él, she/ella, they/ellos/ellas, other/otro.” The translator simply didn’t understand the meaning of the source, and translated “they” as “plural he/plural she.” While Spanish doesn’t have a normative non-binary pronoun, both “elle” (/eʝe/) and “ellx” (/eʝeks/) are widely used by queer, trans, and non-binary Spanish speakers. This organization cares enough about gender identity to ask for people’s pronouns, and one can safely extrapolate that they would rather give a nonstandard pronoun option than adhere too closely to traditional binary grammar. This is where the intended meaning comes in: translating “they” as “ellos/ellas” is as unfaithful to the source as a translation could possibly get, although by traditional grammatical standards it is correct—perhaps more correct than “elle” or “ellx” could be. In case of doubt, or if we are concerned about using nonstandard language, we can always ask our client what their priorities are.
This isn’t just a matter of hypothetical people insisting on nonstandard language. The community has anecdotally known about this issue for years, if not decades, but now it has become clear to anyone who is paying attention that the refusal to use inclusive language is putting people at risk. For example, it’s now documented that in Canada, non-binary and trans people are opting for medical care in their non-native language (or skipping care altogether) because their doctors won’t honor their identity through their language.
Each language has a different degree of adaptability to non-binary expression, but we must learn how to use it and how to recognize it in all our working languages. In English, “he or she” can become singular “they” (“Alex missed their bus”) in almost every case, most gendered words can also become neutral (“husband” into “spouse”), and sometimes gendered words can be omitted entirely: “excuse me” can replace “sir” or “ma’am” to politely get someone’s attention. Newly constructed non-binary alternatives to language are gaining traction: Merriam-Webster added the gender-neutral honorific “Mx.” to its unabridged dictionary in 2017; the word “nibling”–a gender-neutral term for “niece or nephew”–is under consideration by the Collins Dictionary, and Facebook famously added 51 gender options to its platform in 2014 (all defined here) and has since added more.
Interjection from Corinne: If you struggle to accept the singular use of “they” for a specific person–as in Ártemis’ bio–rest assured that even the venerable Chicago Manual of Style now allows this even in formal writing, and states that “a person’s stated preference for a specific pronoun should be respected.” It’s also worth noting that many of these emerging terms may be viewed with the same level of skepticism that once greeted the now-common title “Ms.,” as recently as the 1980s. (End of interjection!)
My favorite approach to non-binary language is to reframe the sentence. Conventional Spanish rules would say that words ending in “o” can be both male and neutral. I recently saw a Twitter post by a linguist that read, “¿Ya estás suscrito?” (“Are you subscribed yet?”) I couldn’t help but wonder why they didn’t say “¿Te has suscrito ya?” (“Have you subscribed yet?”) instead. Their version uses an adjective in the masculine form and, therefore, genders the reader as male. Using a participle instead would be one character longer, but it would take gender out of the equation altogether without the need for nonstandard language.
The absolute best way to familiarize yourself with non-binary language is to interact with your local non-binary community. The second best would be to interact with the community online, such as through Twitter or Tumblr. I find Twitter particularly useful as a language search engine, as you can easily see how and when people are using specific language.
As the field of queer translation is in its nascent stages, there are very few works that analyze it critically (so far). However, some voices stand out from the crowd. Translating for Sexual Equality (2017, ed. José Santaemilia) and Re-Engendering Translation (2011, ed. Christopher Larkosh) are two great introductory cross sections of voices on queer and feminist translation. Depending on your language pair, it may be easier to find authors by searching for the programs of conferences such as Lavender Languages and searching for presenters’ other works.
The English non-binary language introduction par excellence comes from Teen Vogue. For Spanish, the Universidad del País Vasco has a beginner’s guide to inclusive language, and Asamblea no Binarie put out a shorter but more specific guide. There may be guides for your language(s) written by the community, but it’s also possible that there are none yet; in either case, as I mentioned, it’s best to search for examples of people using language rather than to stick to what a guide says. Language can change rapidly and guides can only present information that is current at the time they are published.
There is no single approach for translating non-binary language, particularly when translating or interpreting across languages with very different grammatical gender (as is the case between Germanic and Romance languages, for example), but that’s the “it depends” reality of our field. All we can do is continue adding tools to our toolbox and learn how to use them to our advantage.
* As is often true in our profession, some of the terms in this article depend on context. Some non-binary people do use “he” and/or “she.” Some people don’t care about pronouns, or use them interchangeably.
Readers, over to you! Especially if you’ve encountered these issues in your own work, we’d love to hear how you handled them!
This makes me so happy to see on such a high-profile blog. Thank you, Corinne, for being aware of these issues and promoting them, and thank you so much Artemis for representing the community and making this post!
Thanks, Sam! Glad you enjoyed it!
Thank you for raising this important subject. I would like to share this article (not by me), which gives an overview of how non-binary identities might be expressed in different languages: https://theestablishment.co/what-happens-if-youre-genderqueer-but-your-native-language-is-gendered-d1c009dc5fcb/.
Thanks, Maria!
That’s a great article I wasn’t aware of, thank you so much!
Excellent article, very informative. Thank you for posting it!
Thanks, France! Glad you enjoyed it!
Excellent and I am so glad this is coming from Spain, having thought binary gender appears more pronounced in Spanish than English languages (-prejudice of a learner contrasting with their first language! ). By the way decades ago I heard Shakespeare used They and Their for third-person-single .
Thanks, Mark! Glad you enjoyed the post.
Thanks for this! A lot to learn and get used to…
Thanks, Christian! Glad you enjoyed it.
Thank you Corinne for having a guest post with a topic about inclusive language. And thank you to Ártemis for writing such a clear article and for adding references. This post comes in right as I’m translating some inclusive language posters into Spanish for a university. Ártemis: how is the use in Spanish for the Direct Object Pronouns? Are we leístas going to enjoy some “le”, “les”, instead of “lo, la, los, las”? Thank you!
Thanks, glad you enjoyed it!
Hi Leyre, sorry for the delay!
Yes, if using elle, the direct object pronouns would be le and les (le intérprete, les compañeres). Explaining the use of elle is pretty straight-forward, but using it consistently does require practice: you start with a female-coded sentence and change the female As to neutral Es while following spelling rules. E will inherently look odd because it has different spelling rules than A and O: “chicas” becomes “chiques,” “antigua” turns to “antigüe,” and “amigas” is “amigues.” We’re preserving the sound, not the letters.
Since writing this post, I found a great episode of a linguistics podcast I love that speaks about E. The episode speaks from a plural inclusive lens, but a lot of what’s discussed applies to the singular lens as well. The podcast is The Vocal Fries, and it’s by two linguist women who focus on linguistic discrimination. The episode in question is #31, “Todos/Todas/Todes,” and can be found here: https://radiopublic.com/the-vocal-fries-GOoXdO/ep/s1!16a71 It’s an hour long, but I promise it’s worth it! Dr. Santiago Kalinowski, the special guest, has some really interesting thoughts about the surreptitious complexity of using E and its juxtaposition to the way opponents of inclusive language speak about its use; frequently in terms of us lacking basic linguistic education.
¡Gracias Artemis! I too just saw your post 🙂
Thank you for your answer and the podcast hint. I’ll listen to it pretty soon.
Leyre
Thank you Corinne for doing a guest post on a topic about inclusive language. And thank you Ártemis for writing such a clear article and for adding references. This is real information about such things. Now, when a new a translator has an issue, they can get help from your article.
I’m still ruminating over the content and intent of Ártemis López’ article here. Shall I call they simply ‘the author’? What I find of concern is the emphasis on subjecting language to contortions of expression to avoid offending a small group of people who consider themselves nonbinary or queer. The way they choose to identify themselves may or may not influence the way others write about them or speak to them.
What is worrying is the somehow prescriptive tone of this article. I may have talked to a nonbinary person and not noticed that particular nature simply because the person in question didn’t feel affronted, offended or singled out by my choice of language, and I didn’t have to shoehorn strange expressions, in English or Spanish, to achieve communication.
The article further hijacks the concept of fidelity to the source to make its prescriptive point. Inclusive language does have a place, but it has to happen by the will and action of the users, which means organic development, not dictated by a few who feel slighted by the language use of their interlocutors.
Hi Mario,
I’m interested in what “organic development” might be that isn’t “the affected communities bringing it to everyone else’s attention, like by guest blog posts on high-profile blogs.” Meaning, I’m pretty sure this *is* the organic way these things develop, and your resistance to it is likely to be based on your own biases.
Speaking of those biases: what’s the problem, exactly, with adapting language so as to not offend a “small group” of people? That’s the purpose of language. There are terms used to refer to Black people in American movies, TV, books, all media from the 1950s that we would *never* use today–because the Black community was finally able to make their voices heard and tell the ruling classes that those words are offensive.
What your (unfortunately very common) argument comes down to is “I have to make an effort to not offend people, and that annoys me, so why can’t I just talk however I want?” I, personally, don’t like to offend people, so I am happy to modulate my speech accordingly. As an ally, I actually find it exciting to get to change my speech to reflect someone’s gender identification as a way of supporting them without shouting it from the rooftops.
Perhaps you should consider why you are so resistant to this particular language change.
Best,
Sam
Hello, Samantha,
Thank you for taking the time to read and reply to my post. Let’s see the facts at hand. One: the LGBT community has enlarged and enriched themselves with nonbinary and genderfluid people, judging by the news in the last few years. This is a powerful reality in America, but it is not necessarily mirrored in every other single country or culture.
Two: let me use an example of the organic development I meant: how dictionaries are built. It takes several years to collect the usage of words, including words that users retired because of lack of use. A dictionary is not prescriptive by nature, but shows how users use words and expressions. Of course, I’m generalizing the role of dictionaries for the sake of space.
Third: Not every member of an affected community read popular blogs. They talk to each other, on the street, at work, school, etc. So, to expect a blog to build some sort of consensus on how language should be used is a bit misguided. Blogs may contribute, but they aren’t the arbiter of language usage.
Fourth: to demand language change even if the motive is well-meant is a prescriptive action by definition. Those who don’t heed that demand are viewed as insensitive, disrespectful or worse. There is no dialog taking place.
Finally, it is people who decide how to talk to each other, by simple human contact (in different ways, of course, direct and indirect). Human groups have been doing it for millenia and way before blogs, the internet and social media made their appearance.
As a corollary, we would all do well in giving others the benefit of the doubt and not assume the worst, like “I’m trans but my boss referred to me as he, which I found deeply offensive.” Instead of assuming, have a talk, solve the real or imagined issue. The larger bias I sense, especially in social media, is that equivocation, the wrong approach or form of addressing, tends to be automatically tagged as offensive, worthy of our strongest and harshest condemnation.
Hi Mario, reading your comment made me wonder if we read the same blogpost.
Let’s face it, inclusive language is not a recurrent topic in translation articles nor conference presentations. I read Ártemis López blog post with a lot of interest. I recognize that I don’t automatically use inclusive language when speaking or writing. I need to think about it when I do want to use it, as it doesn’t come “natural”. And it’s OK, I understand my limitation. But I do want to make the effort. Hence, this article was a step in the right direction.
It’s not about not offending, it’s about accepting and acknowledging different people, including them, creating a safe space for minorities (yes, a safe space where they won’t get physically attacked, or harassed on social media and where they can express themselves), and giving visibility (they exist!).
Ártemis L.’s article talks about including the client’s and the audience’s needs through inclusive language (it wasn’t an exposé of inclusive language and imposing it). Inclusive language goes beyond using new pronouns to refer to people. In fact, the references he made to articles in Spanish show examples of inclusive language such as “firefighter” vs. “firemen”, or “personal de enfermería” (nursing staff in Spanish) vs. “enfermera” (female nurse). Understanding our client’s linguistics needs is key in our daily translation work.
The post is very clear on how this language is changing, so it’s far from being prescriptive.
It’s not my place to decide how people want to be called, but if people tell me they want to be addressed as “he”, “she” or “they”, that’s how I will call them.
It’s also not my place to decide what the best way to address “they” in my language, Spanish, should be “elle”, “ellx”, “ell@”? As Ártemis López points out, talk to the experts, in this case the LGBTQIA+ community.
I don’t have the power, nor Ártemis, to make language prescriptive. Thankfully, we all do, collectively, by using language every day, shaping it to our needs and realities. It’s just a question of time.
Non-binary people exist, I see you, I hear you and I respect you.