I’m a teacher; my pronoun is _______.
If you answered, My pronoun is they, you’ve done nothing wrong. Yes, teachers are expected to model good grammar as well as teach it—they could lose their jobs if they don't—but no matter what you’ve been told before, singular they is grammatically correct, and the American Psychological Association's influential Publication Manual (7e) is the latest authority to agree. The APA manual stresses correct grammar in writing, and it approves the use of they, them, their, themselves, and even themself, when an individual’s pronouns are unknown or irrelevant.
It's only recently that style guides have come to acknowledge singular they as correct, but it may take a while before they is greenlighted in the classroom. The last time the National Education Association had a style manual, back in 1974, it didn’t even consider singular they as an option. Mildred Fenner, editor of Today’s Education, reported at the time that for many years the NEA journal had used generic she for teachers because most teachers were women. But in the 1960s men began to complain that expressions like the teacher . . . she were responsible for teachers’ poor public image and their low salaries. One man objected at an NEA meeting that generic she was both bad English and a bad look for the profession:
The incorrect and improper use of the English language is a vestige of the nineteenth century image of the teacher, and this conflicts sharply with the vital image we attempt to set forth today. [It] conjures up an anachronistic image of the nineteenth century schoolmarm. [Mildred Fenner, “After All.” Today’s Education 68 (Sept.-Oct. 1974), 110]
Of course another stereotype of that dreaded schoolmarm was someone who enforced good grammar on her charges, but this anonymous male teacher seemed to feel that only men and their pronouns could make a profession both grammatically correct and “vital.”
Not long after that outburst, Fenner reported, the NEA abandoned the teacher . . . she in favor of generic he “on the theory that grammatically [he] includes both sexes.” But while that may have soothed the bruised male egos, it did nothing to boost either the image of teachers or their salaries. Plus, by the early 1970s, sexist language was on its way out, and women teachers began protesting that the teacher . . . he rendered them invisible. So, renewing its search for an inclusive pronoun, the NEA briefly considered ne, nis, and ner.
Ne was coined by Fred Wilhelms, former executive secretary of the American Society for Curriculum Development, who found the word “by going roughly half way from the ‘h’ in he to the ‘s’ in she.” Scrupulously fair, Wilhelms then took the possessive nis from the masculine his and the objective ner from the feminine her.
But the NEA didn’t opt for a coined pronoun or for singular they. Instead, the 1974 edition of the organization’s Style Manual for Writers & Editors recommended rewriting a sentence in the plural or omitting the pronoun altogether. If a pronoun is absolutely necessary, then writers were told to use the shortened form, she/he, or the full phrase, he or she.
Still, Fenner was intrigued by Wilhelms’ neo-pronouns and asked any Today’s Education reader who liked ne to write in with nis answer to the question, “How does one effect a change in the common language?” One reader favored ne, nis, ner because writing he/she was too tiresome and generic he filled ner with guilt—but ne offered no plan to get the paradigm into use. Another flatly rejected ne, nis, and ner as too weird. Instead, they proposed rehabilitating singular they, “which may sound like hell but offers the considerable advantage of actual usage.”
But actual usage be damned, teachers just weren’t ready for singular they. That 1974 style manual may have been the last that the NEA produced, but writing textbooks repeated its three-step pronoun advice—rewrite in the plural; avoid all pronouns; if you must use a pronoun, use he or she (or she/he). So teachers began perpetuating the myth that he or she is the only grammatically correct gender-neutral pronoun. No mention of coined pronouns. No mention of they.
But except for teachers telling students to always use the phrase, everyone else hates he or she, him or her, and his or her for being too awkward, too long, and most recently, too damn binary.
I’m pretty sure teachers don’t use he or she when they’re off the clock. But most are reluctant to even mention coined pronouns or singular they, lest they be hounded from their jobs by a public which still doesn’t respect its teachers or pay them well, but requires them to teach a stereotypical “good grammar” that is often far-removed from how speakers and writers use English. Case in point: the Florida teacher who in 2017 asked their fifth-graders to use singular they was promptly transferred to an adult learning center because some parents objected to a teacher who is trans and others complained just as loudly that no teacher should teach their students bad grammar.
As for ne, nis, ner, along with everyone else, teachers can use those pronouns on social media, on OkCupid, even in edited writing that follows APA style. Well over 200 such pronouns have been coined in the past two hundred years, and gender pronouns like ze, hie, hir, and E are finally getting some use. Or you can use singular they. Or she. Or even he. And with authorities like the APA Style Manual to back them up, don't be surprised if teachers start experimenting with pronouns in the classroom.
It turns out that today, for expressions like I'm a teacher, my pronoun is ________, there are lots of acceptable ways to fill in the blank.
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For the whole story on gender-neutral and nonbinary pronouns, click here to order your copy of my new book, What’s Your Pronoun? Beyond ‘he’ and ‘she.’
