Words are never entirely innocent. Over time, some expressions become loaded, offensive, or simply ill-suited to describing a changing society. Thus the old word for a school caretaker gives way to school support worker; a street sweeper becomes an environmental services worker; a servant becomes a domestic worker. Terms once in common use, such as handicapped, have gradually been replaced by expressions like person with a disability, which put the person before the condition.
In many cases, this change is a good thing. A job is not merely a collection of tasks: it is also a social role, a responsibility, and a set of skills. Calling someone by a word that has been used for decades as an insult or a synonym for inferiority inevitably carries that burden forward. Changing our language can therefore be an act of civility.
When the Name Changes
| Traditional Italian term | More commonly used or institutional Italian term today |
|---|---|
| Bidello (school caretaker) | Collaboratore scolastico (school support worker) |
| Spazzino / netturbino (street sweeper) | Operatore ecologico (environmental services worker) |
| Handicappato (handicapped person) | Persona con disabilità (person with a disability) |
| Donna di servizio / serva (servant) | Collaboratrice domestica / colf (domestic worker) |
| Secondino (prison guard) | Agente di polizia penitenziaria (correctional officer) |
| Postino (postman) | Portalettere (mail carrier) |
| Becchino (undertaker) | Operatore funebre / necroforo (funeral worker) |
| Guardiano (watchman) | Addetto alla vigilanza / operatore di sicurezza (security worker) |
| Usciere (doorkeeper) | Addetto all’accoglienza / operatore di servizio (reception or service worker) |
| Infermiere generico (general nurse) | Operatore sociosanitario, nei ruoli previsti (healthcare assistant, in the applicable roles) |
| Spazzacamino (chimney sweep) | Tecnico manutentore di impianti fumari (chimney-system maintenance technician) |
| Imbianchino (house painter) | Tinteggiatore / decoratore (painter or decorator) |
| Boscaiolo (lumberjack) | Operatore forestale (forestry worker) |
| Facchino (porter) | Addetto alla movimentazione / portabagagli (materials handler or porter) |
| Centralinista (switchboard operator) | Operatore di contact center / addetto al centralino (contact-centre or switchboard operator) |
These examples show how words change; they do not establish an automatic equivalence between qualifications or duties. In particular, the Italian infermiere generico and operatore sociosanitario are distinct professional roles.
The Best Side of the Change
Behind many of these shifts lies an important gain: recognising that a person’s dignity does not depend on the social prestige of their work, their health, education, or position. Saying school support worker, for example, reminds us that this person does more than open a door or clean a corridor: they help the school function. Likewise, saying person with a disability avoids reducing an individual’s entire identity to a single characteristic.
Language can educate the way we see others. When a word has been used dismissively for decades, replacing it can help break a cultural habit. That is not necessarily hypocrisy: it can be attentiveness, sensitivity, awareness.
But a New Word Does Not Solve an Old Problem
Here is where the most important question arises. If we change only the name and leave a person’s circumstances untouched, have we really moved forward? A worker may receive a more elegant title yet still have low pay, few protections, little recognition, and difficult working conditions. A person with a disability may be addressed in impeccably respectful language yet still encounter stairs without ramps, inaccessible services, interminable waits for assistance, or barriers to employment.
In such cases the risk is plain: society improves its vocabulary faster than it improves reality. Replacing a word in a regulation is far easier than removing an architectural barrier, raising pay, hiring enough staff, making a service effective, or genuinely guaranteeing equal opportunity.
The Chase for the Next Euphemism
There is also a curious linguistic mechanism at work. A new term is introduced to show greater respect. But as the years pass, if the social condition associated with it continues to be viewed negatively, that term too can acquire an unpleasant undertone. Then another expression is sought, and then another.
Sometimes, then, the problem is not the word but the way we look at reality. If we look down on an occupation, sooner or later we will look down on its new name too. If we think disability diminishes a person’s worth, no clever turn of phrase will be enough to erase that prejudice.
Language Must Be Accompanied by Action
The conclusion cannot be that words do not matter. They matter greatly. Words can wound, exclude, and label; they can also acknowledge, include, and restore dignity. The point is different: we should not be content with words alone.
If we call someone a collaborator, we must then truly treat them as one. If we speak of inclusion, we must build inclusive environments. If we choose a respectful term for disability, we must back it up with assistance, accessibility, independence, and real opportunities. If we rename the street sweeper an environmental services worker, we should also recognise how essential that work is to the health and quality of our cities.
Real progress comes when words and conditions change together. Language can be the first step, but it must not become the last. A civil society is not one that finds the most elegant name for every hardship; it is one that, having chosen more respectful words, commits itself to making people’s lives more respectful too.
Changing a word is easy. Changing the way we see others is harder. Changing reality is what truly matters.
What I Would Like to Leave My Children
The words we choose say a great deal about us, but our actions say even more. Always choose respectful words, because no one deserves to be hurt needlessly; but never stop at saying the right thing. Look at how people are actually treated. Dignity is not a title, a definition, or a bureaucratic formula: it is the concrete way in which we recognise in others the same worth we ask them to recognise in us.
Papy