Tus palabras importan: Why the vocabulary you use in community work matters
In the weeks and months following the surge in racial justice protests spurred by the murder of George Floyd in May 2020, which reached the DR as well, my current workplace struggled to move beyond talking about the need for change to implementing it. We set up regular sessions to discuss the need for increased equity to accompany diversity among our staff, how fellow colleagues can contribute to the movement for black lives in their daily lives, and acknowledge the role of “international development” in maintaining a world order established with colonization – and how our work, and livelihoods, play into that. However, what could we do about it when we were bound to our funders and their priorities?
I work on a global nutrition project funded by the U.S. government. We work with organizations in over 10 countries to implement programs to increase the diversity of diets, decrease the rates of nutrition-related illnesses, such as anemia, and improve data collection and analysis on nutrition-related outcomes among specific communities. We also produce guidance and communication materials for government and international agencies, policymakers, and healthcare providers to improve the nutritional status of individuals, especially women and children – all under the name of the U.S. government (for better or worse).
One of the elements we’ve decided we can and are working to change: the words we use in our work, both when sharing our products with the global health community and engaging with our partners in countries outside the U.S. Changing the tone and connotation of how we say what we do can alter the impact of our work.
Much of international relations and development language actually stems from militaristic vocabulary: (boots) on the ground, deployment, intervention (sobre el terreno/en el campo, despliegue, intervención). Even the term “gringo” originated from U.S. military occupations in Latin America. It’s important to know this history and context and take into consideration the impact of these terms, especially if one is a foreigner from a country that has been involved militaristically.
Some vocabulary switches are clear: instead of working “in the field” (en el campo, sobre el terreno), just specify which country or region; instead of a reading or health program participant being a “beneficiary” or “recipient,” call them people, communities, or a specific group. Even saying a program or project “empowers” a group of people indicates that those coordinating the program have the ability to bestow power on others, rather than everyone having the power within themselves. As someone from the U.S., I always try to remember to call myself “estadounidense” rather than “americana,” as America represents a whole continent, not just one country within it.
Some terms are more complex. In community development and non-profit work, practitioners typically will use the terms “vulnerable” or “at-risk” (vulnerable, en riesgo) groups or individuals. While it is true that a certain person can be more vulnerable to illness or even low reading ability due to their circumstances, using these terms as general descriptors, or worse, as euphemisms for low-income communities or communities of color, becomes disrespectful and shows a fundamental lack of knowledge, or interest, in the real context. “Capacity building” or “strengthening” (fomento de capacidades) is another tricky one and one that I honestly used when first describing the purpose of my service fellowship that placed me at DREAM. This term comes with a lot of underlying assumptions about the capacity that already exists, the need for it to be built and the way it should be built, and who should build it.
This was the case at DREAM and in the DR, as well. In my year and a half at DREAM, there was a steep learning curve in soaking in the Dominican accent (where they say an “l” for an “r” and an “r” for an “l”), vocabulary (“zafacón,” “nítido,” “guagua”), and all of our DREAM-ismos (“kilo,” “cosita”). Nevertheless, taking the time to learn all of this and respect it was more valuable in my life and work in the DR than any book or movie I could have read before moving to Cabarete.
Ultimately, specificity wherever and whenever possible is key; awareness of the context is also vital. In my experience in Cabarete and at DREAM, some of the most memorable and funny conversations you can have are asking where a term or name came from. En el mundo hispanohablante, la diversidad del lenguaje es un punto de orgullo, uno que se debe apreciar y respetar.
For more on language use in community work, check out these resources:
17 global development cliches to avoid in 2017, Sarika Bansal, 2017
From Where I Stand: Unpacking “local” in aid (blog series), CDA Collaborative, 2021
How we talk about public health and why it matters, PATH, 2020
It’s time to put an end to supremacy language in international development, Ann Hendrix-Jenkins, 2020
About the Author: Victoria Anders
Originally from Washington, DC, Victoria is a 2018 graduate of Pomona College in Claremont, CA, where she studied Public Policy Analysis, Biology, and Cognitive Science. She conducted research with the Claremont Project on Memory and Aging, focusing on bilingualism, and carried out thesis research on Human Papillomavirus (HPV) vaccination mandate legislation in the U.S, with a focus on California. She also spent one semester studying abroad in Rabat, Morocco, completing a program on migration and transnational identity. While there, she conducted ethnographic research on sub-Saharan migrant integration in Moroccan health systems and the role of public-private partnerships to guarantee healthcare.
As a Princeton in Latin America fellow at DREAM, Victoria worked with the Deportes para la Vida, the LUCEROS Documentation Project, and Monitoring & Evaluation teams from August 2018 until December 2019. The project she most loved being involved with was an annual health fair hosted at the public elementary school in the Callejón. She currently works on the Monitoring, Evaluation, and Learning team on USAID Advancing Nutrition, the Agency’s flagship nutrition project. The things she misses the most from Cabarete are the jugos de mango, the music-filled commute to work, and (of course) easy access to beautiful beaches!