Gender Offender                                                                                      Home ... at last

Words are my life, or at least my heart. That’s why I’m so pithed at the way political correctness has insinuated itself into our world of words, demanding gender neutrality in language.

Even a decade ago, we gals could brag about promotions to ‘chairman’. Now, it must be ‘chairperson’. Why the need to neuter titles? What inferences are we afraid of? Ever see the portraits in most headquarter portals? More gentlemen’s club than roughhouse Rambo, and surely no threat to madame chairpersons. As for the unbridled power in the inanimate term ‘chair’ – hardly electric.

We adopted ‘postal carrier’, too. Apparently, ‘postman’ has so much hard core virility, such potent testosterone that the whole other half of humanity feels unwelcome in the calling. If that’s true, why not take homonyms hostage, too? Refuse to call it ‘mail’. And make the film academy redo the awards, with an Oscar nod to: ‘The Postal Carrier Always Rings Twice’. The statue can stay as is, though. Haven’t we physique tweaked the poor eunuch enough?

Closer to home than Hollywood: Quebec. The very core of communiques relies on gender, ‘le’ or ‘la’. Let them print it twice, once each way – see how they like it. And quieter on the western affront – ‘Ms.’. It’s equality more than neutrality, but my point is, I like ‘Miss Ross’. I sound like a fun teacher or nanny, adored by her wee charges. (Plus, if dating, it pays to advertise.)

So, it’s a ban on the ‘far out, man’ of the 70s. And while today’s pop culture clichés lack our wistful, bell-bottomed naivety, at least ‘yo, dawg’ won’t gender offend politically correct-ors. Let’s agitate animal lovers instead.

by Sandy Ross