Words are the building blocks of our reality. They don’t just describe the world; they actively shape it. Every time we choose a word, we are choosing to include, empower, or, sometimes, unintentionally, exclude or diminish the people around us.
Inclusive language is simply communication that acknowledges diversity, conveys respect to all people, is sensitive to differences, and promotes equal opportunities. It’s about ditching assumptions and embracing precision.
But why is this precision so powerful? Because when our language falls short, people feel invisible.
The Silent Harm of Default Language
For centuries, language has defaulted to a narrow, often privileged, norm. This “default language” often uses terms that exclude vast groups of people:
- Gendered Language: Using “man” or “mankind” to refer to all people, or “sir” and “ma’am” when a person’s gender is unknown or non-binary.
- Ableist Language: Using disability-related terms as metaphors for incompetence (e.g., “I’m so OCD about cleaning,” or “That idea is lame”).
- Outdated Labels: Using clinical or outdated terms that focus on the deficit rather than the individual (e.g., “the mentally ill” instead of “people with mental health conditions”).
The problem with these defaults is that they make certain groups the “other.” If the term for humanity is “mankind,” where does that leave everyone else? If we use mental health terms to describe bad ideas, we perpetuate the stigma associated with genuine health conditions.
Why Language Is More Than Semantics
Think about the difference between these two sentences:
“She’s confined to a wheelchair.” “She uses a wheelchair.”
The first sounds tragic, like something was taken away. The second is simply factual, a tool for mobility.
That shift changes everything.
When we describe a child as “autistic” or “ADHD” (using the condition as their identity), we reduce them to a diagnosis. But when we say, “a child with autism” or “a student with ADHD,” we put the person first.
That child is a reader, a soccer player, a younger sibling, and yes, they also have autism. But autism is one part of their story, not the whole story.
Person-First vs. Identity-First Language
Person-First Language: The official standard in clinical and educational environments, where you acknowledge the person before the disability. This is generally the safest approach.
- Examples: “A child with Down syndrome”(not “a Down syndrome child”),“An individual with cerebral palsy.”
Identity-First Language: Preferred by many self-advocates and members of the community (particularly in the Autism and Deaf communities). IFL treats the trait as an inherent part of their identity.
- Examples:“An Autistic person”or“a Deaf individual.”
Our Approach at ABE Clinics: We primarily use Person-First Language because it provides a foundation of respect for parents navigating a new diagnosis and for educational settings. However, we acknowledge and respect that many self-advocates use and prefer Identity-First Language. The key is always to center the individual’s dignity.
When we use person-first language, we’re saying: “I see you as a whole person. Your diagnosis doesn’t define you.”
For parents navigating a diagnosis, teachers developing IEPs, and communities learning to be inclusive, this language creates a foundation of respect.
Words to Stop Using (And What to Say Instead)
Some terms are outdated or unintentionally harmful. Here are shifts that make a real difference:
Instead of “wheelchair-bound” or “confined to a wheelchair”:
Say: “Uses a wheelchair”
Wheelchairs provide freedom and mobility. They’re not prisons; they’re tools that empower people to move through the world.
Instead of “suffers from” or “afflicted with”:
Say: “Has [condition]” or “Lives with [condition]”
Most people with disabilities aren’t suffering every moment. They’re living full, meaningful lives. A child with autism isn’t suffering from autism; they’re a child who has autism and is learning, playing, and growing.
Instead of “special needs”:
Say: “A child with disabilities” or “A student with [specific condition]”
“Special needs” is vague and can feel infantilizing. Being specific is both more respectful and more useful. Does the child need speech therapy? Occupational therapy? Sensory accommodations? Specificity creates understanding.
Instead of “normal” or “healthy” (when referring to people without disabilities):
Say: “Typically developing” or “people without disabilities”
Calling people without disabilities “normal” implies that people with disabilities are abnormal. Many people with disabilities are healthy. Disability doesn’t equal sickness.
Instead of “high-functioning” or “low-functioning”:
Say: “Has significant support needs” or “Requires minimal support”
Functioning labels are misleading. Someone might need extensive support in communication but minimal support in academics. Focus on what kind of support someone needs, not arbitrary functioning levels.
It’s Not About Being “Too Sensitive”
You might hear pushback: “You’re being too politically correct” or “We used to say [term] and no one cared.”
Here’s the reality: inclusive language isn’t about political correctness. It’s about respect.
If the disability community and the families we serve tell us that certain language is hurtful, the respectful response is to listen and adjust.
Nobody expects perfection, just a willingness to learn and try.
Teaching Children Inclusive Language
Children learn language from adults. If we model respect, they follow.
When a child asks questions about someone with a disability, answer honestly and simply:
“Everyone’s brain works differently. That person has autism, which means they communicate in their own way.”
When a child uses outdated or hurtful language, correct gently:
“We don’t say that. We say ‘a person with a disability’ because we want to see the person first.”
Show children that people with disabilities are just people, with hobbies, preferences, good days, and challenging days.
Language in Clinical and Educational Settings
Professionals, teachers, therapists, and doctors set the tone. Families often adopt the language they hear from experts.
In clinical and educational settings, consider these shifts:
“Your child has autism” (not “is autistic”)
“She benefits from visual supports” (not “she needs visuals because of her autism”)
“He’s working on grade-level skills with accommodations” (not “he’s behind”)
“Students with disabilities” (not “special ed kids”)
These small changes shape how a child is seen and supported.
Common Ableist Language We Use Without Thinking
Every day, phrases often use disability as a metaphor for something negative:
- “That’s so lame.” → Try: “That’s disappointing.”
- “Falling on deaf ears” → Try: “Being ignored”
- “Turn a blind eye” → Try: “Overlook”
These phrases reinforce the idea that disability equals something negative or less-than.
The Bottom Line: It’s About Dignity
At the heart of inclusive language is dignity.
Every person, no matter their diagnosis, support needs, or abilities, deserves to be spoken about with respect. They deserve to be seen as a whole person, not reduced to a label.
At ABE Clinics Foundation, we’re committed to honoring that dignity in how we provide care, train professionals, and support families.
Because how we speak about people shapes how we treat them.
And everyone deserves dignity.
How ABE Clinics Can Help
If you’re navigating a diagnosis, advocating for your child, or looking for guidance on inclusive practices, we’re here.
We provide:
- Comprehensive assessments and therapy
- Family education and support
- IEP consultation and advocacy
- Training on respectful, person-centered language
And we do it all with care rooted in respect.
Because words matter. People matter. And dignity starts with how we speak.
💙 If you believe language shapes how we see each other, share this post. Let’s build a more inclusive world, one conversation at a time.