Name Game
By Kiki Tan

He didn’t have feet – both were amputated just above his knees.  And seemingly crawling, it was disturbing looking at him.  But he tugged at my pants, all the while saying “Piso, piso.”

“Sorry,” I said, trying to walk away from him as fast as I can – an easy task since, with his feet amputated, his mode of moving was only via an improvised kariton.  Then, feeling guilty, I turned and walked back to him, coins ready to be given. 

“Salamat,” he smiled, though his demeanor immediately changed when another beggar shouted: “Kumita na naman si abnoy (for abnormal).”  Without delay, he retorted: “Excuse me – hindi ako abnoy, no!  I’m physically challenged!”

This, I suppose, best exemplifies how terminologies are changing when it comes to identification – somehow necessary to be more sensitive to the changes brought by time, though at times also funny because of the approaches, particularly of the changes made for self-serving purposes.

RIGHT

There was a time, it can be recalled, when people had to resort to so many words (often unrelated to their real meanings) to express themselves, e.g. “birds and bees” to refer to the sex organs when parents talk to their inquisitive kids.  Somewhere along the way, being blatant to the point of being vulgar became accepted, mainly to re-claim the meaning of words, no matter the meaning already stereotypically attached to them, e.g. “cunt” as used in The Vagina Monologues.  And then came the time when reverting to the seemingly avoiding terms became more acceptable because the original words can no longer be re-claimed, what with their supposed meanings (often negative) already in the consciousness, e.g. drunkard, addict and, yes, abnoy.

This was when politically correct terms came up – softening the weight of the terms used to describe human situations by removing the negativity of the old terms.  So drunkards ceased to be such and became “alcohol dependent”, drug addicts to “chemical dependent”, deaf to “hearing impaired”, gay to “sexual liberators”, and so on. 

The move is understandable – after all, I’d rather be called a “person with weight problem” than obese, since if I were one, I’d be in a situation where I don’t want to be, thus needing all the help I can get to lose weight.  And subtlety (if not kindness) when discussing my issue wouldn’t hurt.  Besides, if you were lampayatot when you were young, wouldn’t you rather be called “iron deficient”?  Definitely, mas sosyal.

Of course, I wouldn’t be the first to point out that the politically correct terms seem to stick only among the elite.  When a – ehem – chemically dependent unemployed man held a small boy hostage, he was portrayed by the media as buang, as if excusing the fact that since he was a loony his death amounted to nothing.  But when a chemically dependent son of a politician raped a girl, he was considered “psychologically disturbed”, needing treatment to rehabilitate, thus help him become a productive member of the society.  Then there’s may bulate for the poor and lack of proper nutrition for the rich, taba vs. high cholesterol level, yosi kadiri vs. oral fixation, et cetera.
Indeed, political correctness still has a long, long, long way to go.

WRONG

And then there are the terminologies that were only recently developed to suit not so much the needs of specific social groups as to benefit particular persons, or situations. 

I recall approaching a girl prior to a scheduled interview.  “Excuse me,” I said, “are you the secretary?”

If looks could kill, I would have died on the spot with what she gave me.  “Excuse me,” she said, “First Impressions Manager.”

I apologized, trying not to laugh aloud.  The title was not a lie – she was the first person you see when you enter the office, so, indeed, she provided the office’s first impression.  But since when did receptionists cross the line to managing positions, i.e. of first impressions? 

Of course, that isn’t the only one.  There’s Executive Assistant for the dakilang alalay, Officer-in-Charge of Safety and Security for the guard, Maintenance Supervisor for the janitor, Transportation Facilitator for the driver, and so on and so forth.  Beyond titles, there are terms used to replace what we are already used to using, e.g. horizontal dancing for sex, social lubricant for booze, and confirmed bachelor for gay.  Seemingly similar to the usage of politically correct terms, these cushion the users from the stereotypes attached to the words used.  I would be excited if called sexually curious, but be offended with slut.  Or visually challenged instead of duling.  Or cultural dancer instead of a-go-go dancer. 

Nonetheless, there are terms that, no matter the seemingly poetic use, will always be offensive.  Take fungus-face, political prostitute, teacher’s pet, village idiot, or banana republic.  In these, nothing can cover up the basic facts, i.e. of ugliness in fungus-face, et cetera.
The end to beautifying terms is far from over, of course.

…OR WHATEVER

As soon as you switch on any form of media, you’d be bombarded by performers proudly carrying “titles” – locally, there are Pops Fernandez as Concert Queen, no matter that her partnership with Martin Nievera (himself the Concert King) has ended, and with that the end of the patronage of their big number of fans; Jaya as Soul Diva, no matter that she mainly murmurs instead of sings these days; and Aiza Sueguerra, as, stupidly (and politically incorrect, not to mention gender insensitive) Diva-Bae, a play at her being a lesbian, that once was seen as making women less of a woman, and more of a man.  Overseas, there are the Pop Queen Madonna, Pop Princess Britney Spears, and Prince of Pop Michael Jackson – no matter that these are all self-proclaimed.  Considering that genres tend to mix, would we soon have a Halo-halo Queen?  It is a title-crazy world gone, well, crazy, indeed.

When the beggar with disability rolled away from me, he was still mumbling, “Physically challenged,” much to the amusement of the other beggars.  But the insistence seemed justified – though he has a physical limitation, he could question our concept of abnormality (what is normal, after all).  And in this I tend to agree.  Calling someone abnoy, as if the totality of the personality is defined by the lack, will do no one any good.  But admitting the limitation, and yet acknowledging that that is but one aspect of a person, is more beneficial.  The variations in terms should therefore be driven more because of a necessity than whim, a need of some sort, a must.

So skip the limiting “sticky rice”, “salami queen” or “bisexual” labels, and focus on the “fruit salad queen” or, as Samantha Jones would have it, “try-sexual” to connote openness to at least try anything once.  There is where the essence of the name game lies – not to limit but to be inclusive, and thus more accepting.  But then again, I’m looking too far ahead already.  We’ll have to go beyond Jukebox Queen first!