No war? No frontline.

If you've been following along with me the past while, you'll notice that I have a tendency to focus on the language that we use, and how our shared understanding of that language really impacts how we respond and react to people and circumstances.

(I recently wrote about the problem with using the word "trigger", and how calling some behaviour "bullying" can be misleading and unhelpful).

As it so often happens, it's the language that's deeply engrained in our worldview and systems that we question the least, until someone kindly points it out to us, which is exactly what happened for me recently.

Jeff, can you write about the use of "frontline" to describe helping professionals?

It's a word so ubiquitous in addiction, mental health, healthcare and education that it hadn't been "on my radar" (to borrow another military term). It should have been.

Describing helping practitioners as being the "frontline" reinforces the notion that we're somehow "at war" with our clients or patients. And given the history of addiction and the "war on drugs" in modern society, it's no wonder that this term, originally used to describe those soldiers who had direct contact with the enemy, crept into our language.

But it's language that's worth considering much more closely.

Are our youth workers, social workers, addiction counsellors, therapists, nurses, doctors and all other helping professionals really fighting a war? If so, who or what is the enemy? It certainly isn't the client or patient who's accessing care...right? It would be awfully challenging to simultaneously provide "client-centred, strengths-based, solutions-focused" care while fighting with our clients...

But if we are on the frontline of a war, it would be worth considering what (or who) the enemy is.

The enemy is marginalization.

The enemy is systemic oppression.

The enemy is early childhood trauma.

The enemy is stigma and contempt.

We have seen the enemy, and he is us.

So let's stop calling our helping practitioners the "frontline", unless we're going to equip them with the tools and mission to fight the real enemies of healing, wellness and growth.

Let's call them what they are.

Let's call them Direct Service Providers.

Or maybe "People Who Care to an Irrational Extent About the Health and Wellness of Fellow Humans" (PWCIEAHWFH for short...the system does love a good acronym...).

Or, you can join me in calling them what they really are.

Let's call them heroes.