Sweetie Baby Honey Girl

Last week, a friend posted a question on Facebook: how do working women deal with people in the workplace who call them sweetie rather than using their given name? (Or honey, or girl, or . . . you get the idea.) The responses to that question were sadly predictable and fell into three basic categories.

Response #1: “Did they mean to be offensive? If not, just let it go.”

I am sick of letting things go (sorry, Elsa.) Im tired of acting like I’m not offended when I am. How on earth am I supposed to determine whether another human being “meant” to offend me?

Second–and much more importantly–why am I required to make this determination before acknowledging how I feel?

I think we all know at least one person who says offensive things and then says “No offense.” Does that change the way you feel about their statements? Whether or not someone meant to be offensive is irrelevant. Whether that offense is the result of “southern hospitality,” a generational difference, or something else altogether, is also irrelevant.

If you offended someone, you were offensive. It’s really just that simple.

Women are often called upon to be the peacemakers, to forgive and forget. They’re usually expected to do this so that men don’t have to monitor or change their behavior. Women who adopt this language–who call other women sweetie or hon–are doing it either because they’ve never questioned what it communicates or because they want to demonstrate that the language doesn’t bother them, either. They’re one of the guys. And the guys get to do whatever they want, apparently.

Response #2: “Don’t let it bother you.”

The thinking here is that your response–not the behavior–is the problem. If you aren’t offended, there isn’t an issue.

Right. Because people failing to treat each other as equals is never a problem.

How do we know this is an issue of equality? Ask yourself: when was the last time you heard a man complain about being called sweetie or hon in the workplace?

On the very rare occasion when this might happen, the man in question likely finds it amusing. That’s because his integrity isn’t being compromised; he still has the authority that comes with being male in our culture. If he’s not being given that authority in the workplace, he can easily find it elsewhere. He knows that. Being called sweetie certainly doesn’t send him into a tailspin of wondering what he can possibly do to make it stop.

And then, of course, there’s the matter of feelings themselves. If not being offended were as simple as saying “Okay, I’m not offended anymore,” the whole body of films that rely on revenge as a plot point would not exist.

But that’s not how feelings work, and everybody knows it. Telling people to ignore their feelings is essentially the same as saying “Keep those feelings to yourself.”

Response #3: “I hate that too, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

The pervasive sense of defeat that most women feel in the face of diminutive language stems from a single source: the cultural instruction to be sweet.

Don’t believe that’s a thing? Try this: go do a quick Google search for the phrase “be a pineapple.”

Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Obviously, that meme is directed at women–not men. We’re allowed to stand tall and wear a crown–be proud and powerful–but only if we stay sweet while doing so. Asking some to stop calling you sweetie (or honey, or girl) certainly doesn’t fall into that category of behavior.

So how do you handle this kind of language? Here’s what I have done in the past.

1. If the person in question is someone who understands humor, I might respond to “Hey sweetie, can you get me those invoices from yesterday?” with “Sure thing, sugarplum.” It might take two or three repetitions of this pattern for that person to get the point, but the behavior almost always disappears–or turns into a joke, which completely undercuts whatever power it might have possessed. When you dish out what others expect you to take, you quietly take control of the conversation.
2. If the person in question does not get humor, then a straightforward statement is better–“Actually, I prefer to be called Pam when I’m at work, not Sweetie.” Pointing out that you’ve heard and object to the language will often (but not always) make it stop.
3. If the behavior continues, then it’s time for a private conversation. Use “I” statements–“I’m really not comfortable with being called sweetie in the workplace.” Avoid accusative “you” statements–“You need to stop calling me sweetie.” There’s a virtual guarantee that this person will claim no intent to offend. That’s when you point out that you are offended, so their lack of intent is irrelevant.
4. Unless you’re prepared to leave the job behind (or willing to ignore the offensive behavior) should the suggstions above fail to address the problem, you need to document the steps you’ve taken. Write down dates and times of each conversation, as well as the name of anyone else who’s present. Giving someone the chance to change is a good first step, but going to their supervisor or the HR office is your next move. You may not get the response you’re hoping for, but doing something is more empowering than doing nothing.

What if this behavior doesn’t bother you–if you don’t mind being somebody’s sweetie at work? Then say nothing. You do you. But don’t tell other women that this behavior shouldn’t bother them because it doesn’t bother you (see Response #2). And don’t make excuses for it (see Response #1). If you’re the person who calls your coworkers sweetie, stop when you’re asked to. Whether or not you meant to give offense, you did. So apologize and knock it off.

As professional people, our job is to be supportive of everyone in the workplace. If your colleague is offended by being called sweetie, stop calling her sweetie. If you’re not the one at fault, and that language doesn’t bother you, say so: “It doesn’t bother me at all–but if it bothers you, say something.”

See how easy that is? And giving people the chance to change still allows you to be sweet.