Unbanned: Reclaiming Words, Reclaiming Visibility

In March 2025, a list of banned words circulated from the federal government through media outlets. Many of us had seen attempts at language suppression before. But this moment carried a different weight. It wasn’t just a list; it was a message. A signal about who and what could be named in public life, in policy, and by extension, in our workplaces. 

And Plexus felt it immediately. 

Partners who had once shown up proudly, who had sponsored events, shared our resources, and aligned themselves with inclusion, began to pull back, some quietly reduced engagement, while others terminated memberships entirely. At the same time, we heard from individuals in our network who asked to swap their work email addresses for personal ones in our database. Not for convenience or because they preferred Gmail; but because they were afraid. 

Afraid that words like LGBTQ+, gender, trans, or queer would show up in their work inbox and trigger scrutiny. Afraid that being seen could cost them trust, opportunity, or safety. Afraid that the simple act of receiving an email that reflected who they are or the people they support could be interpreted as “political,” “inappropriate,” or “too much.” 

When people have to hide their inboxes, they start hiding themselves. 

That’s what language censorship does. It doesn’t only silence words, it teaches people to shrink. It makes identity or allyship feel like a liability. It turns self-recognition into self-editing. It pressures individuals to become careful in ways that others never have to consider: careful with pronouns, careful with introductions, careful with what they share about their weekend, careful with which photos they keep on their desks.  

Language suppression may be framed as “neutral” or “administrative.” But marginalized communities and their allies recognize it for what it is: a method of erasure. Words are not just labels. They give people something to hold onto when they are trying to understand themselves, articulate their experiences, and find community. 

Think about the first time someone learned a word that finally fit. For some, it was gay. Or lesbian. Or bisexual. Or transgender. Or nonbinary. For others, it was queer, a reclaimed word that carries both history and defiance, rawness and strength. 

Finding the right word to describe yourself or an experience can make one feel lighter, as if a large weight were removed, they did not realize they were carrying. That word doesn’t create a person, but it can validate what they’ve always known but didn’t yet have language for. It can replace shame with clarity. It can transform isolation into belonging. It can make someone’s story legible not only to others, but to themselves. 

So when institutions attempt to ban identity-based words or words meant to humanize, they are not regulating vocabulary. They are regulating visibility. They are trying to make certain people harder to recognize, harder to advocate for, harder to protect, harder to count, and harder to include. 

At Plexus, we are committed to staying strong, loud, and proud. Because for every attempt at silencing, there is an equal and opposite possibility: naming. Speaking. Reclaiming. Insisting. 

We will continue to use the words that matter, even when they become inconvenient for others. We will continue to build relationships with organizations that understand inclusion is not seasonal and not optional. We will continue to show up for individuals navigating fear and uncertainty and make sure they are supported. 

And to our partners, allies, and community members: this is a moment that asks something of us. Here are a few ways that courage can look right now: 

• Say the words. Use LGBTQ+. Use trans. Use queer when someone claims it. Use words that affirm people’s humanity. 

• Create space for self-identification. Encourage pronouns when appropriate. Normalize correction and redirection without punishment. Let people define themselves without debate. 

• Audit your workplace systems. Look at HR policies, inclusion statements, benefits, vendor relationships, and communications. Ask: “Where are we unintentionally encouraging people to hide?” 

• Protect psychological safety. Train leaders to respond to bias and microaggressions, to intervene with care, and to model inclusive language consistently. 

• Stand with consistency. If you or your organization are an ally, be one when it costs something and not only when it gains something. 

Words can help build the workplaces we all deserve, places where no one has to trade their safety for their authenticity and where belonging is not conditional or fragile. The choices we make now, what we say, what we defend, and what we refuse to erase, will shape the cultures we work in for years to come. This is how we create workplaces that do not just tolerate differences, but proudly welcome all of the words and all of the people behind them.