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A terrible tragedy, and a persistent pronoun problem

The Pronoun Tightrope

Lisa Selin Davis has written one of the most uncomfortable pieces on gender language in journalism—and that's precisely what makes it necessary. A mother wrestling with her own cognitive dissonance at the dinner table. A journalist admitting she used the wrong pronouns out of habit. A profession caught between competing truths about what language should do.

The Dinner Table Test

Davis opens with her children. They knew their new math teacher was male. They also knew he wanted she/they pronouns. They used them without hesitation.

A terrible tragedy, and a persistent pronoun problem

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "Pronouns, to them, weren't attached to sex. It did not cause them cognitive dissonance to use them this way. Pronouns were more like a nickname."

Her own experience differed. She tested a workaround: asking a non-binary teen's mother about natal sex before the conversation began. Once she knew, using they pronouns felt manageable. The conversation flowed better than any she'd had with an affirming parent in nine years.

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "Using those pronouns allowed the conversation to move forward, and it went better than any conversation I've had with an affirming parent in the last nine years."

But she draws a line. Children shouldn't be asked to call a man she/they. She acknowledges she can't change New York's gender identity protections—though she mentions the option of suing the state for free speech violations. She won't do it. But she notes it.

"Where it gets much, much more serious is in anything official, from medical forms to reporting."

The Rachel Levine Confession

Here the piece turns inward. Davis admits she used she/her pronouns when writing about Admiral Rachel Levine's role in pressuring the World Professional Association for Transgender Health to remove age limits for pediatric gender medicine. Why? Out of habit. She had only known that human being as Rachel, not Richard.

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "I should either have avoided pronouns altogether or used sex-based pronouns—and explained why I did, since many people are accustomed to identity-based pronouns, and many young journalists have been trained to use them."

This confession matters. Rachel Levine's influence on WPATH and pediatric gender medicine remains one of the most consequential stories in medical journalism. Getting the language right isn't pedantry—it's accuracy about who holds power.

When Crime Reporting Gets It Wrong

The piece sharpens when Davis turns to crime reporting. She cites the Trans Journalists Association guidelines: don't trust police reports on names, gender identities, or pronouns. Seek other sources. Verify self-identification.

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "That is: don't listen to any official sources; what matters is reporting accurately the gender identity of the person—even if said person is the perpetrator."

This approach, she argues, embeds bias into stories. Conservative media says the perpetrator was a troubled young man. Liberal media uses she/her and adds a transition history six paragraphs down. The framing differs. The truth-telling differs.

She references the Tumbler Ridge shooting: Jesse Strang killed his mother and stepbrother, then went on a shooting rampage. Police called him a "gunperson." The New York Times used she/her, then noted Strang was biologically born male and began transitioning six years ago.

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "Well, aside from the fact that one cannot become female—though one can think of themselves as a girl or woman, or dress in clothes marketed to them, or undergo medical treatments to appear as female—that was at least a decent start to some kind of shift."

But she concludes: "We journalists need to not be afraid to say that."

Critics might note that Davis's framing assumes biological sex is the only relevant truth for crime reporting. Patterns of male violence matter—but so do patterns of media sensationalism, and the risk of using sex to imply inherent criminality. The 83-year-old killer she references was called she; Davis argues this obscured male violence patterns. But obscuring isn't the same as lying, and the line between them depends on what you think language should do.

The Guidelines Nobody Follows

Davis quotes the Trans Journalists Association extensively. Their guidance is detailed: ask sources what pronouns they want published. Respect changes between conversation and publication. Don't avoid pronouns awkwardly. Explain usage only when identity has shifted during reporting. Neopronouns like ze/hir shouldn't be swapped for they/them. Multiple pronoun sets are common—he/they, any, all. Ask which to print.

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "Avoid the phrase preferred pronouns. Someone's pronouns are not a preference, but rather the only appropriate way to refer to that person."

Yet Davis argues these guidelines create problems when applied to crime reporting, official forms, and historical accuracy. The profession needs new discussion.

Lisa Selin Davis writes, "For years I tried to hold an event for journalists about how to understand the science of pediatric gender medicine, how to report accurately but still be sensitive to the subjects you're reporting on, how to figure out what language to use when words that once carried almost no political meaning are now radioactive with politics."

The event never happened. The discussion remains urgent.

"We can't continue this way."

Bottom Line

Lisa Selin Davis has done something rare: she's admitted her own pronoun mistakes while arguing the profession needs sex-based clarity in crime and official reporting. The tension between respecting self-identification and reporting biological reality isn't resolved here—it's exposed. That exposure is the piece's value. Journalists reading this will feel uncomfortable. They should. The language is still being written, and the stakes are real.

Sources

A terrible tragedy, and a persistent pronoun problem

by Lisa Selin Davis · · Read full article

At dinner every night during the first few weeks of this school year, my kids would talk about the new teacher: she said this, she wore that. “You know that person is a man, right?” I would ask them. Over the summer, the principal had hired a mask-wearing male math teacher who went by she/they.

Their response: duh. They knew she/they was male. They used the pronouns she/they requested because it was polite to do so. Our conversations were always the same. I’d try to explain why I didn’t think it was polite to ask or demand that other people lie or pretend or participate in someone else’s self-conception that departed from reality, and they’d say: it’s not a big deal. We’re used to this.

Pronouns, to them, weren’t attached to sex. It did not cause them cognitive dissonance to use them this way. Pronouns were more like a nickname. They could kind of see my point of view but also: not really.

I tested their version of reality out myself recently when talking to a mother of a non-binary teen. Soon after we started chatting, I said, gently, “Do you mind if I ask the natal sex of your child?” She told me, and then after that it was easy for me to use they in the conversation without feeling that cognitive dissonance myself. Using those pronouns allowed the conversation to move forward, and it went better than any conversation I’ve had with an affirming parent in the last nine years.

Those are different situations. I still don’t believe it is right to ask children to call a man she/they, but there’s very little I can do about it—other than suing the state of New York for its gender identity protections that violate free speech. (I’m not going to do it, but if you do, let me know.) But in conversation, having some wiggle room can be really helpful.

Where it gets much, much more serious is in anything official, from medical forms to reporting.

When I wrote about Admiral Rachel Levine’s role in pressuring WPATH to remove age limits for pediatric gender medicine, I used she/her. Why? Here’s the big secret: out of habit. I had only known of that human being as Rachel, not Richard, and it didn’t occur to me to use he/him pronouns even though of course I knew Levine is male and always will ...