For words that say so much about us, we probably think about them very little. Gender pronouns, the "he" or "she" in a sentence, are almost invisible in everyday English and yet they carry an important piece of our identity.

When Elliot Page, the actor of Juno and Umbrella Academy fame, came out as transgender in December, he told the world his pronouns were "he" or "they". In 2019, singer Sam Smith announced they were non-binary, meaning they do not identify as explicitly male or female – the neutral "they" is the right pronoun for them.

As our understanding of gender has expanded beyond anatomy (and pink and blue baby clothes), pronoun etiquette has become increasingly front of mind. It's no longer unusual to see pronouns listed beside contact details in email signatures and Twitter bios. Some universities invite new students to share their pronouns when telling the class “a little about themselves”.

Researcher and writer Quinn Eades recalls explaining his own transition from female to male to his two young children. "So you'll still be mama, just a boy mama?" They asked him. "Exactly," he said. And he is.

But the new pronoun normal has also sparked a wave of backlash – and lots of confusion – in the public arena. Many are just terrified of getting it all wrong.

So how are pronouns changing, why do they matter and how do we use them respectfully?

What pronouns do people use and why?

If you bumped into Melbourne fashion stylist Deni Todorovic at a party, they might say: “Hi, I’m Deni, my pronouns are they/them/theirs. Did you watch the footy last night?”

If you wanted to introduce Deni to someone else, you might say: "Have you met Deni? They LOVE footy!"

It's not a big change, dropping the traditional he or she, but it makes a big difference, Todorovic explains. "When I came out as non-binary or gender-non-conforming, I didn’t change my pronouns right away. I was scared to let go of that last chord of masculinity, I guess. But I’m not completely male or female, I live in the space between so it makes sense to use ‘they’. That feels like me.”

“They” and even brand new gender-neutral pronouns such as "ze" and "hir" can be used in place of a male or female designation, for people who “don’t fit into the two boxes on forms”, Eades says, and sometimes those who wish to actively avoid being classified by gender altogether.

It's not unlike the way "Ms" found its way into the lexicon to avoid women being either listed as married (Mrs) or single (Miss).

At other times, someone “coming out” as trans such as Elliot Page will move to the pronouns that reflect their identity.

When Teddy Cook of LGBTQ health organisation ACON affirmed his own gender as male 15 years ago, he didn’t have any language to help him. “I'm actually a twin but I was the only trans person I knew then, that’s so often the case.”

Gender, he says, is largely a presumption made by those around you at birth based on “what’s in your pants”, your genitals (known as your sex). “Most people agree with that presumption, they identify with that gender."

Usually these people, known as cisgender people, also present to the world in a male or female way, in line with their gender and sex, so they don't declare their pronouns whenever they enter a room. People just tend to guess right.

"But there have always been some of us who don’t identify with what we're assigned at birth," Cook says.

This gender diversity has already been a part of the language and culture of Indigenous nations around the world for millennia, he says. "Think of the [term] 'Sistergirls' [used in many Aboriginal cultures for trans women] and 'two-spirit' for non-binary people in Native American [nations]."

Some people may not connect with the transgender term at all or may be living "stealth", keeping their transition private. Others might use "rolling pronouns" meaning "they" might feel as comfortable as "he".

Eades, who identifies more as trans masculine than a trans man, goes mostly by "he" but doesn't mind being called "they" either. So long as it's not "sir" or "buddy" or "champ". "I don't like all those masculine ways men hail each other. I never got called chief or boss before I transitioned."

Why does it matter what we use?

When pronouns don’t match our gender identity, it can be disruptive, even dangerous. The deliberate "misgendering” or "dead-naming" of trans or genderdiverse people (using the wrong pronoun or their original name) has been linked to spikes in mental health concerns, including suicide. This is a vulnerable community already much more likely than the general population to face violence and bullying, to be murdered or suffer from conditions such as depression.

“But when people get [your pronouns] right it’s so affirming, it’s hard to describe how it feels,” Cook says.

"This isn't about political correctness or snowflakes. Imagine if someone relentlessly called you by the wrong name or gender – even just for one day."

Because pronouns speak to our identity, they are inherently bound up in emotion, Todorovic adds. “My parents still struggle to use my pronouns, they don’t want to let go of their son. It's really personal, it's about family relationships, too. But that’s exactly why we need to get them right. For the same reason, if I know your name is Sherryn, I would feel bad if I called you Sharon."

But my English teacher told me "they" can’t be singular?

An email lands in your inbox from Sam. A Sam you don’t know. What do they want?

A penguin is born in a zoo. They won’t show markers of gender until adulthood. Their name is Ziggy.

Did you notice anything strange about these sentences? Generations of tyrannical English teachers might be screaming that old rule in your ear – that "they" usually means more than one person.

But, as linguist Kate Power explains, the singular ‘they’ is not actually wrong, however much “linguistic snobbery” it still provokes. It has appeared in the written language as far back as the 14th century, in Shakespeare, Austen and Chaucer.

If you don’t know Sam’s gender when their email arrives, it’s natural to refer to them as "they". If Ziggy the penguin has no gender identifiers until adulthood, why pick a pronoun at random?

“‘They fell out of favour as a singular pronoun but it’s having a comeback now,” Power says. "It can indicate multiple people, but it can also indicate ambiguity or diversity of gender."

It might be confusing, she says, but many languages don't have gender pronouns at all. Others, meanwhile, have genders for nearly everything, even objects. In French, for example, a table is female but an office is male.

Besides, language is not just about rules, Power says. It's about being human, too.

"Some people want to politicise pronouns and make them [carry meaning] about [biological sex] instead of gender. That's not what this is about. Whether or not you feel comfortable is irrelevant. The gender a person identifies with is the important bit. That's what pronouns are meant to do."

Will new pronouns such as "ze" and "hir" catch on?

Cook and Eades think it unlikely but Power says the strength of new pronouns, however strange they might seem at first, is that they also come free from our existing grammatical moulds.

"There's not that same shock to the system of ‘they’ being used in ways we’re not as familiar with," she says.

“Language is changing all the time and we usually try to keep up. The women’s movement helped us see that doctors aren’t always 'he' and nurses aren’t always 'she'. And just look at all the words we’ve added to our vocabulary this year like 'iso' and 'contact tracing'."

Family titles can evolve too, says Isabel Kenner from Trans Pride Australia. "I'm a trans woman — for the uninitiated I was born with male primary sex characteristics I do not associate myself with. But clearly they worked because I have three beautiful children. [They] don't use Mum, I am 'Dizzy'. I let the kids choose it when I transitioned, it's a combo of 'Dad' and my name 'Izzy'. I just use Mum with others to reduce confusion."

Eades, meanwhile, is excited to have a "nibling" – which is a gender-neutral term for a niece or nephew. "These are our [gender-diverse] young people we have to make room for and care for in our language choices."

So should I ask people for their pronouns?

It might feel awkward but asking in order to avoid making a mistake is always better than misgendering someone, Cook says. Consider again all that daily guesswork that goes into choosing pronouns for the people around us.

"We rely on cues. Men with long hair get mistaken for women. But we can never really assume someone's identity. Besides, not many languages other than English have these gender pronouns so it's a reasonable question."

So we should think of that genderless penguin – and never assume? "I kind of love that. Yes!"

But isn't asking for pronouns rude?

It depends on the intention, Todorovic says. "If you're not singling someone out and being aggressive about it, then it's not rude at all."

They suggest this handy trick: offer your own pronouns first.

Power says this preemptive invitation is actually a common linguistic tactic. "It's taking the risk on yourself. And it doesn't have to be a big showy thing. If you're introducing yourself, just add your pronouns. 'I'm Kate. You can call me she/her. What do you go by?''"

Todorovic adds: "The more cisgender people who bring it up or put out their pronouns in bios and signatures, even if they're not a surprise, the more normal it is for the rest of us who need it to be talked about."

Should we do away with "he" and "she" altogether then?

In 2019, the singular "they" was named word of the year by the dictionary Merriam-Webster, and some think it's the only pronoun we need.

But Cook stresses most people still identify as one gender or another – including people who have transitioned.

"Being called by the right pronoun after transitioning is really important for a lot of people. It was for me."

Power agrees "they" should not be the default, even if it's often the easiest option. "That's another assumption. This is about listening to each other."

What if I get it wrong?

“Everyone stuffs up, myself included,” Todorovic says. “We're not used to thinking about pronouns so much. There's a lot of rewiring to do."

If you make a mistake, just acknowledge the correction, apologise and move on.

"It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Over-apologising just makes things awkward. We know when it’s a genuine mistake and when it’s something else,"Todorovic says.

Cook and Eades agree. “The amount of times I've had to console someone else for misgendering me or how hard they find pronouns,” Cook says.

If you really are stuck, he suggests acknowledging that too and spending some time practising or researching in your own time. "You can say 'I'm not getting this but I will'. When someone reveals who they are to you, it's a big thing. It's worth practising the words they use."

Eades recalls a dear friend who was still stuck using his former pronouns a year on from his transition. “It wasn’t feeling OK for me any more so I finally said something. And he … went away and found a little workbook online to practice with and he got it right.

"That was really special for me. There was love in that. This is about using language with love and kindness.”

You can find more information on gender terms at Transhub or watch Deni Todorovic explain pronouns in more detail here: