“Hey guys.”
It opens meetings. It starts Zoom calls. It feels normal until it doesn’t.
Etymologists will tell you the word comes from Guy Fawkes, the bomb-plotter from 1605. He tried to assassinate King James. Then the name stuck. It shifted from a specific criminal to a catch-all for a crowd in modern American English.
But in an office? It signals inclusion for some. Exclusion for others.
Why Masculine Words Stick
Amy Jeffers is an organizational development specialist. She deals in diversity, equity, and inclusion. Her take? “Guys” is a masculine word. Period.
There are easier options. “Hey everyone.” “Hey folks.” Neither assumes gender. Both do the job.
Sociologist Sherryl Kleinman nailed this in a 2002 essay. She argued against “you guys.” It reinforces language that already favors men. Think about other generic terms that are actually male-specific.
Chairman.
Postman.
Freshman.
Kleinman quoted the dismissive crowd: “Get over it.”
But then she asked the hard question. How come so-called generic words are always male?
The GLSEN Guide
GLSEN advocates for LGBTQ students and marginalized identities. They push for a default. Drop “guys,” “brothers,” and “sisters.”
Use “folks.” Use “all.” Use “y’all” if the geography allows it. Avoid “ladies,” “sir,” and “ma’am” too. They carry baggage.
This creeping bias goes beyond greetings. Think about describing someone you haven’t met.
Do you say “that guy”? Or “that woman”?
GLSEN suggests being descriptive. Tell them the physical details instead of guessing identity. “Pass the paper to the person with the white T-shirt.” Safe. Accurate. Human.
Jeffers puts it another way. It isn’t about splitting usage fifty-fifty between “he” and “she.”
It’s about asking why we need the split at all.
Couldn’t we just be using “they”?
Fixing Mistakes Without Centering Yourself
You will mess up. You’ll slip.
The problem isn’t the error. It’s the apology that follows.
Lily Zheng studies gender ambiguity. In a 2019 Harvard Business Review podcast, she shared a story. A colleague misgendered her. Then that person apologized for ten straight minutes.
Zheng ended up playing therapist. She had to reassure them it was fine. She called it awful. She told the colleague something sharp.
Correction is a courtesy. If you react badly to corrections, I stop giving them. That ends learning.
Jeffers agrees. She hears people whine that change is hard. That they are “used to” the old language.
Stop defending intentions.
Acknowledge the miss. Say you will do better. Then actually do better.
Practice Makes It Habitual
How do you improve? Repetition.
Practice gender-neutral language even when you are alone. Practice it when the room is safe. Build the habit.
Jeffers notes that leaning into these words reduces errors. Less room for assumption. Fewer awkward silences.
Get good at it. Regardless of who is listening.
