Why Words Matter

A few years ago, I met two new clients in their homes in one week. The first client lived in a beautiful townhouse from the 1930s. Everything in her interior was selected with care and put on display where it caught the best light. Her bookcases were filled with books about art, literature, and even rows and rows of antique books in fragile leather covers. Her own artwork hung on the walls, and there were fresh flowers in a pretty vase on the table. My client said she wanted to move house, but she didn’t know what to do with all “that old junk” that she had filled her house with in four decades. I was surprised to hear her choice of words, as everywhere I looked, I saw beauty and color and art. I could easily picture myself living there.

To the owner of possessions, words matter.

The next day, I drove to my other client. Upon arriving at the house in the countryside, I saw a cluttered driveway and garden and lots of broken furniture and garbage bags. Inside the house, it wasn’t much better: narrow pathways, big piles of dirty clothes in the kitchen, and full boxes and empty food wrappers everywhere. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, animal hair, or mold. Four dogs and six pedigree cats were competing for my attention. My client told me she wanted to declutter the ground floor, including her bedroom, so she could bring in and enjoy the treasures she kept in the attic. She told me there was nice furniture there and bags of pretty clothes that her sister gave to her. My client hadn’t been in the attic for years because she could not climb the stairs anymore. Still, she was convinced there were treasures there that she now wanted to have downstairs. Upon inspection, I found the attic almost worse than the ground floor. Trash bags filled with clothes were inhabited and soiled by mice. The pretty furniture was broken and dirty or infested by bugs. The cats and dogs in the house seemed to use the attic to defecate. I was allowed to take some pictures and showed them to her. My client was shocked: “That is not my house, and those are not my treasures!” It took some time to convince her the pictures were real and were definitely taken in her house.

Is it junk, or is it a treasure?

I was completely confused by those two experiences. How could my first client call her beautifully displayed and valuable possessions “old junk”? And how could my second client truly call the destroyed stuff treasures?  Never before had I seen more clearly that words matter and are strongly influenced by one’s (sometimes incorrect) beliefs or lived experiences.

Usually, I listen to the words my clients use and then choose how I will respond. When someone calls her possession “old junk,” I will not repeat those words. I will carefully use the words possessions or name the categories. When a client talks about her “treasures” when her belongings are clearly broken, soiled, or otherwise damaged, I will not use the word “treasures.” But neither will I use the words “junk,” “garbage,” or “trash.” Again, I will choose neutral words like “stuff” or “possessions” or name the category my client is referring to. In no way should my client feel judged or corrected, not even when I believe the “old junk” to be actually treasures! My clients express their experiences with the stuff; it’s not an objective judgment.

Words matter to the organizing professionals.

In our profession and within ICD^®, we strive to be careful with our words. We don’t speak of “hoarders” or “the chronically disorganized population.”  Instead, we choose people-first language, e.g., a client affected by chronic disorganization. We see the disorganization or the large amounts of stuff with our own eyes. Of course we do. But we should always put the client first, not their environment.

The meaning and the weight of words also change over time. Recently I spoke to a colleague who accidentally used incorrect language, e.g., “chronically disorganized people.” When we had a conversation about those words, my colleague mentioned that those words literally came from a book by Judith Kolberg, the Institute for Challenging Disorganization^® (ICD) founder. My colleague thought that if Judith Kolberg could use those words, so could she. But…the book she was referring to was 20 years old. Appropriate words back then are not appropriate anymore. A word like “hoarders” is also a good example. That word defines a human being solely on their disorder and consequently their behavior. It’s not respectful, and we ignore the person in all their complexity and experiences. And regardless of who used those words in the older days, the words are outdated now.

Dr. Devon Price, who spoke at the ICD conference in 2023, called themselves “a proud autist” in their presentation. In a way, it was refreshing to hear and completely understandable from their perspective. Yet I would not encourage you to call another person with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) “an autist.” Dr. Price has their own unique experiences and viewpoints on ASD; we can never assume everyone in the autism spectrum is okay with Dr. Price’s terminology. Better stay on the safe, respectful, and professional side!

Dr. Maya Angelou once said, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

Hilde Verdijk, CPO-CD^®

Yourganize

Chronic disorganization may not go away, but it can get easier.

Psst: The ICD^® Blog Task Force has come up with a ‘Timeliness’ style sheet, a document about appropriate language for subscribers, aspiring bloggers, and vloggers on this website.  When you want to contribute to the Blog Timeliness, please let us know, and we’ll send it to you.