It’s just grammar. So, why does it matter?

There is a question I get asked often, usually quietly and with genuine confusion rather than hostility: “Sukhmani, it’s just grammar. Why has it become such a big thing?”

I love this question because the person asking it is admitting that they don’t understand and genuinely want to. So let me answer it the way I would over chai, not from a stage.

First, the basics.

A pronoun is the word used for you when your name isn’t. She built this. He closed that. They solved it. It is the word your work travels under, especially when you are not in the room. So when you see she/her or they/them next to a colleague’s name in a signature, they are simply telling you which words fit them so that you don’t have to guess. That’s it. That is the whole mechanic.

Now, why does it matter?

Because grammar is never just grammar. In our own languages, we change entire sentences to convey respect. Aap, tum and tu are grammar too, yet use the wrong one with an elder and watch the temperature in the room change.

Small words carry weight. We have always known this.

For transgender and non-binary people, being referred to by the wrong pronoun is rarely a one-off mistake. It can happen repeatedly, in introductions, meetings, emails and conversations, often in ways that appear small to everyone else.

But when the same small mistake keeps reminding someone that they are not being seen as they understand themselves, it begins to carry more weight. You may not intend to exclude them, but intent does not always erase the effect.

Research from UCLA on social exclusion found that rejection activates some of the same neural regions associated with physical pain. It does not mean that every instance feels the same, but it helps explain why repeated experiences of being unseen or excluded can hurt more deeply than they appear to from the outside.

For many of us, pronouns are something we have never needed to think about. People have generally used the right ones for us without asking, so the experience remains almost invisible.

That is also why a pronoun such as “they” can feel unfamiliar when someone asks us to use it. The hesitation is often not hostility. It is simply that we are being asked to pay attention to a part of language we have rarely had to think about before.

So, a quick word on “they”, because this is where many people get stuck.

Using “they” for one person may feel unfamiliar at first, but it is already a natural part of English. We say, “Someone left their phone in the meeting room,” without knowing or needing to know that person’s gender.

Language has always evolved around how people live and understand one another. Using someone’s pronouns is simply another instance of choosing words that describe them accurately and respectfully.

Here is the reframe I offer everyone.

Using someone’s pronouns is not a statement about your politics. It is about referring to a person in the way that fits them, just as you would want your own name spelled correctly on your appointment letter.

And what about sharing your own pronouns?

Start by asking yourself whether you would feel comfortable adding them next to your name. If the answer is yes, doing so can quietly tell colleagues that this is a safe place to be themselves. If the answer is no, that is genuinely fine too. Not everyone is ready, and nobody should feel watched or judged for leaving that space blank.

This works only if it remains a choice. You will get it wrong sometimes. I have too. Correct yourself in five seconds and keep going. A sincere correction matters more than getting stuck in embarrassment or turning the moment into a long apology. The recovery matters more than the stumble.

It is just grammar, yes. And a handshake is just hands. Some small things are how we tell another person: I see you. Language has and always will be one of the ways we communicate respect.