Despite the fact that Hispanic and Latino people account for about 20% of the United States population, the conversation about gender-inclusive terms rarely ever leaves the bounds of the English language.
It seems simple. Among Spanish speakers, many older generations perceive Latino to be an inclusive term because it is the default. Latina for women. Latino for men and mixed-gender groups. Spanish, like English, is a gendered language that exists in rigidly gendered societies, often rooted in machismo and the feminist struggle against it.
So if not Latino or Latina, then what? “Latinx” is a commonly seen attempt at a gender-inclusive term. In practice, words like “amigos” or “amigas” would use “amiguix,” instead.
No one says that.
“I’ve seen [Latinx] since 2019, but not a lot of people use it in my opinion,” said Sarah Clark, a Hispanic Linguistics and Culture Ph.D. student at Michigan State University.
An article from the Pew Research Center reveals that even though half of the U.S. self-identifying Hispanic population knows of the word “Latinx,” only about 4% of people use the term to refer to themselves. It has not caught on, despite being part of the conversation for roughly ten years.
“Latinx” poses a practical issue since the ending is nonexistent in Spanish grammar, says Micah Rose, a Spanish Linguistics Ph.D student at the Universty of Illiniois, Urbana-Champaign.
Is it lah-tee-necks? Is it lah-tin-eck-is?
“Latinx is essentially unpronounceable, and certainly unnatural, within Spanish phonology,” Rose said.
Another perspective that deters “Latinx” from mainstream use is its view as an Anglicism. The conversation about using Latinx seems to be co-opted by a desire to inject inclusivity into the language, rather than letting Latine queer spaces create their own shared language.
“[Latinx] has gained significant traction in the United States and is often viewed as a marker of inclusivity. At the same time, it is frequently perceived as a U.S.-centric term, which leads many Latinos—even within the U.S.—to avoid it,” Rose says. “In everyday conversation, I typically default to Latino/a, as … the most widely used and broadly understood term.”
Additionally, older generations feel compelled to preserve the language in its currently-understood forms as an attempt to avoid colonization, as well. “Public commentary … illustrates this divide, including statements such as: ‘[We are losing even the language],'” Rose says.
Although there is some documentation of Latinx in Latin American feminist circles, the perception of Latinx as both an intrusion and an academic term is rigid.
“In my bubble at MSU, I see it all the time. they use it for literature … In classes I teach and am a student in, [we] use Latinx,” Clark says.
So if not Latinx, then what?
Latine is increasing in popularity in both academic and interpersonal settings.
“Since nouns ending in -e are grammatically ambiguous with respect to gender, Latine functions as a morphologically coherent strategy for inclusive reference and for respecting preferred gender agreement,” Rose says. “It may appear when aligning with an individual’s preferred gender agreement or in informal expressions such as amigues—or other instances in which a grammatical article can be avoided.”
Latine lends itself to a natural pronunciation due to its roots in the Latin language.
The future of gender-inclusive terminology is nebulous. “Latinx” is controversial at best, and “Latine” is gaining some traction, with mixed acceptance. Regardless of which ending people use, the push for gender-inclusivity in Spanish will persist.