I've had cause to think about this recently. I used the wrong pronoun for an online friend recently. They were very nice about it, but I'm feeling quite abashed and insensitive for making such a mistake. :(
Writing is often how I process my mistakes. I wrote a poem about pronoun usage, thinking about this with Paula's prompt. I wished I'd asked for permission rather than forgiveness. Alas, it's too late. Like I said, I think (hope) my friend has forgiven me. Still I feel ashamed. Especially considering how hurt many people have been by this particular error.
Yes, I'm taking back my blog to write this poem and my characters are letting me. Although one of them is nudging me to let them explore this issue themselves since they've had to cope with this mistake. I may use this prompt again in the future for their sake.
I can’t believe what I just assumed
Something made me think of you as ‘he’
I can’t even recall what it was
A fleeting memory, a distant reference
Perhaps someone else’s assumption
Such a small word
As tiny as a bullet, yet it can make a tearing wound
Carrying meanings which rip us to shreds
Associations, presumptions weigh it down, crush us beneath
The heaviness of backage we may not want to carry
Perhaps you got tired of lugging it around
Or perhaps no one noticed this part of yourself
I didn’t see it either
Rushing around, tweeting like a demented bird
Moving forward, moving fast
Running through a rat race of deadlines
I must seize time to stop and reflect
How we address our colleagues?
What’s the courteous response?
I don’t mind being called sir, my lady, or my lord
Once I finish being tickled, I should worry
What expectations come with such lofty titles?
Am I expected to account for the crop failures
Chase the bandits off people’s lands
Expectations walk hand in hand with address
I’ve been she, he, and they, not minding any of them
Sometimes I even consider myself an it
I’d rather you used words I recognize
I doubt and question presumptions about every pronoun
Not everyone feels the same
Pronouns have power
Casting a thousand nuances
Painting shades which cover individuality
Better to ask what you prefer
She, he, they, or something else?
Than to simply use and assume
It’s better to ask permission than to apologize
Sometimes it’s too late to anything else
All I can do is cringe, watching an old wound bleed
A wound I never intended to re-open
Causing deeper pains to ooze out
The only thing I can do is learn
Hoping I’ll be forgiven
Next time I won’t presume
I’ll ask.
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