Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave...

One (of the many things) I've learned while living abroad and traveling is the value of language. For example: in Sierra Leone, when someone asks you how you're doing (as a general greeting in English), you respond "fine." To a Sierra Leonean, responding "fine" is the standard response. To an American listener, replying "fine" would probably imply that something was wrong, because the standard response for an American is typically "good." To an American, "fine" is somewhere below "good" and, since it doesn't fit the typically, rather neutral response, "fine" actually means "not good."

Another example is a bit more serious. A friend's Thai teacher, who speaks English very well (thanks, Friends and other imported American TV shows...), was offended when an English-speaking friend told the teacher he enjoyed the teacher's "company." To an American, this would probably be a positive compliment, meaning that you're interesting, or fun, or entertaining. The Thai teacher thought his friend was referring to prostitution, associating "company" with "factory" (a derogatory term for women who are prostitutes). While it did not make sense in the context of their friendship, the Thai teacher was offended until my friend helped explain the phrase.

Beyond mere differences in language or cross-cultural missteps, there are extraordinary differences in how people interpret their native language or a secondary language and what connotations words have among different groups of people. The importance of language is constantly under debate in the United States, to the extent that being "politically correct" is now a pejorative. But, really, it shouldn't be. I understand how frustrating it can be when certain terms are considered politically incorrect and you really don't mean to offend someone. I'm in a constant conundrum over how people with darker skin color would prefer to be referred to: should I say "African American?" "Black person?" "Person whose skin has more melanin than mine and most people who are Asian?" "Person who is less likely to get skin cancer because of said increased melanin levels?" I definitely know what terms should NOT be used, but I'd prefer to use a term that doens't carry negative connotations. I wouldn't mind being called "Irish American" but I might if I was only part Irish. I do mind being called "white person" because, well, I'm not white. At the moment, I'm pretty tan, thank you very much.

When Pepsi entered the Chinese market a few years ago, the translation of their slogan "Pepsi Brings you Back to Life" was a little more literal than they intended. In Chinese, the slogan meant, "Pepsi Brings Your Ancestors Back from the Grave."

My confusion, however, is really based on my ignorance and this, I think, gets to the root of why being politically correct, or using the language with the correct denotations and connotations, is important. What are the cultural, political, and societal implications of a term? How does the use of the term frame someone or something? How does it define the insiders and the outsiders? How has it been used in the past? Now, obviously, you can never know all of this for all of the words you use, but you can try to learn.

The Dairy Association's huge success with the campaign "Got Milk?" prompted them to expand advertising to Mexico. It was soon brought to their attention the Spanish translation read "Are you lactating?"

This topic is one I think about a lot (if you can't tell already). At a friend's wedding, I got into a discussion about the use of "Oriental" to describe Asia. I protested at a friend's use of the word "Oriental" because of its negative connotations and implicit ideas of colonization and Western idealizations. He argued that the term "Asian" was not accurate in the context he wanted to refer to and vociferously challenged me to explain why everyone had to be so politically correct (as a pejorative). I have similar objections to the simplified use of "Africa"  (This is Sierra Leone). Not that you can't use it to explain the continent, but you should not use it when using a country or regional name would be more accurate.

As a high schooler, I worked at a summer camp for children with disabilities. Note my sentence structure: "children with disabilities," not "disabled children." Why does this matter, you ask? I'll try to illustrate why with a more neutral example. I tend to be a quiet person - I'm rarely, if ever, the loudest person in the room. But that doesn't mean I want to be know as "quiet Katie." That puts one of my characteristics ahead of me! I'm also a writer, a scientist, an American, an Irish-American, a white person, a green-eyed person, a brunette, a lover of chocolate and the color purple, and a clutz with terrible hand-eye coordination. But, when you say "quiet Katie," you limit me to being one thing. Let's go back to the "children with disabilities" statement. A disabled child is just that - someone whose only characteristic is being disabled. The emphasis is on the disability rather than the child. In more formal terms, describing people this way is called "people first language."

Similar linguistic challenges occur when talking about people with HIV infection. The Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS (UNAIDS) publishes guidelines on important preferred terminology and errors to avoid. Some of the terms are just errors; for example, using the term "AIDS virus" is incorrect because there is no AIDS virus, HIV (human immunodeficiency virus) is the virus that causes AIDS. Similarly, you shouldn't say HIV virus because that's redundant. UNAIDS also adopts "people first language," emphasizing "people living with HIV," rather than "AIDS-infected" or "AIDS victim." I would argue that many of these terms can be used correctly in some situations, but only with the knowledge of how these terms are connoted.

At a recent meeting, a presenter challenged his audience to cut out the word "risk" from our vocabulary for one day. He was talking about the constant emphasis on high-risk people. He argued that people who are at high risk for HIV infection don't like being called high-risk people. It's limiting and, quite frankly, a bit insulting. A person isn't high-risk; a behavior or environment are high-risk.

So, you're probably asking yourself by now, where is she going with all of this? Well, most of it is rambling, a bit is constructively ranting, and a small part is trying to convince you to stop using the term "polically correct" as a pejorative. Yes, it can go too far, but the idea behind using accurate, non-stigmatizing, non-insulting words is important. It might be annoying to have to think constantly about the words you use... but c'est la vie.