
The traditional North American honorifics “Mr., ” “Ms., ” “Miss,” and “Mrs.” are being reexamined as society becomes increasingly sensitive to diverse gender identities. The gender-neutral title of “Mx.” (pronounced “mix”) is gaining traction, marking a shift toward inclusivity for transgender, nonbinary, and gender-nonconforming teachers. This trend, as forward-thinking as it is, has its challenges and opportunities, changing classroom dynamics and inciting broader societal debate. This essay analyses fifteen pivotal aspects of this shift, marking teachers’ expertise, systemic obstacles, and the transfiguring potential of inclusive language.

1. Maddie Luebbert’s Classroom Advocacy
Maddie Luebbert, a 25-year-old nonbinary English teacher in Philadelphia, uses “Mx.” and they/them pronouns. When a substitute was disrespectful of their pronouns and name, students protested, saying, “The substitute was really disrespectful.” This incident showed students’ awareness and advocacy and presented a “healthy back and forth of empathy and respect.” This experience of Luebbert shows how gender-neutral honorifics construct inclusive classroom cultures, with students often leading the demand for inclusivity, validating their teacher’s identity.
2. Isti Fuller’s Transition to Mx.
Isti Fuller, a 28-year-old nonbinary science teacher from Sacramento, struggled with gendered honorifics. “I did not like that I had to decide on an honorific,” they said, originally using “Ms.” as the least jarring option. Being called “Ms.” was “jarring” and also brought about gender dysphoria. Discovering “Mx.” through their mother’s research was a relief, aligning their professional name with their true self. Fuller’s shift to Mx. is a case in point on how gender-neutral titles can alleviate discomfort and promote authenticity in the classroom.

3. Tai Tran’s Validation Through Mx.
Tai Tran, a 24-year-old trans educator in Richmond, California, didn’t feel “Mr. Tran” was representative of who they are, so their initial year of teaching “wasn’t very good.” A shift to “Mx.” felt empowering and affirmative, stating, “It’s very validating of my own gender identity.” Employing Mx. also teaches students about diversity and shows that a queer person of color can be a great teacher without losing identity. This provides a welcoming environment where students learn acceptance and academics.

4. The Origin of Mx.
The honorific “Mx.” is not new. Its earliest known use was in a 1977 article in Single Parent magazine, reports Emily Brewster of Merriam-Webster. Its inclusion in the dictionary in 2016, and online in 2017, shows growing use. Brewster’s research confirmed Mx. passed criteria for entry on evidence of “evidence of words in use,” and not because of pressure from politics. Such official sanction confirms Mx.’s legitimacy, grounding its acceptance in linguistic development and sociological movement towards gender inclusivity.

5. Beck Watt’s Struggles with Implementation
Beck Watt, a 25-year-old nonbinary music teacher in Winnipeg, requested “Mx.” modifications in school systems before the semester. “Nothing had been done,” however, with their name inaccurately on paperwork and misgending them as “Ms. Watt.” Students were not a problem, but staff was, highlighting a generation gap. Watt’s case highlights the real-world obstacles to the application of gender-neutral titles, where institutional resistance is able to be pitted against individual identity, requiring constant advocacy in an attempt to get systems into line with inclusivity.
6. Describe Colleague Resistance to Change
Misgendering is more frequently practiced amongst peers than students. Shani Kartanė, a 28-year-old Bay Area nonbinary teacher, stated, “It’s worse with my colleagues than my students.” Marvin Shelton, a Black nonbinary teacher in New York, experienced staff acceptance behind until June. Workshop leaders, teachers typically lead, with the aim of enlightening colleagues, but there remains resistance. “Not everyone was on board,” Shelton said, calling out for ongoing education to bridge knowledge gaps in workplaces.

7. The Individual Cost of Misgendering
The fight for identity affirmation takes a toll. Kartanė grappled with self-doubt, feeling, “I’m too much work.” Shelton faced mockery, with some seeing their identity as “a joke.” A Southeast student-teacher, facing accusations of pushing a “political agenda,” left teaching after being labeled “aggressive” for correcting pronouns. In Florida, a transgender teacher was reassigned after parental complaints about “Mx.” These stories highlight the emotional and professional costs of navigating identity in resistant environments.

8. Florida’s Legal Crackdown
In Florida, Melissa Calhoun was terminated from Satellite High School for referring to a student by their preferred name without the permission of parents, violating a 2023 law signed by Gov. Ron DeSantis. The law requires parental permission to employ alternative names, highlighting “parents’ rights.” Against student petitions and 13,000 online signatures supporting Calhoun, the school district upheld the dismissal. This scenario illustrates how legal decrees can punish inclusive practices, having a chilling effect for educators that appreciate student identity.

9. State-Level Legislative Backlash
Florida’s law is part of a trend across states such as Alabama, Arkansas, and Indiana, where policies demand parental permission to use preferred names or permit teachers to ignore them. In Indiana, there is a requirement to report pronoun requests to parents, making things in the classroom more complicated. A RAND survey conducted in 2022 discovered that 25% of teachers adjusted curricula because of such restrictions, undermining critical thinking and empathy skills. These laws position inclusivity as an adversary, undermining teachers’ capacity to build inclusive environments.

10. Refusal to Comply Court Victories
Teachers who have refused to use preferred pronouns have won substantial settlements. Peter Vlaming, who was let go in Virginia for avoiding a trans student’s pronouns, was awarded $575,000. In Wisconsin, Jordan Cernek, for refusing to use preferred pronouns due to religious objections, was awarded $20,000 for the termination of his contract. These cases indicate tensions within the law, where a teacher’s religion appears to override inclusion policy, resulting in costly conflicts and disputes over balancing personal belief and pupil rights.

11. Religious Objections in Court
Pamela Ricard, a Kansas teacher, won a $95,000 settlement after her suspension for refusing to use preferred pronouns, citing religious beliefs. Her lawsuit argued that forcing compliance violated her faith. Conversely, LGBTQ advocates like Joel Baum of Gender Spectrum emphasize that misgendering harms students’ mental health, increasing risks of suicidal ideation. This clash between religious freedom and student well-being fuels ongoing legal battles, complicating school policies.

12. Student Activism in Iowa
In Iowa, a proposal to shield teachers from punishment for misgendering students was met with stern student resistance. Nine-year-old JD Wilson, who preferred they/them pronouns, averred that the bill “allows kids to be bullied.” Fourteen-year-old Berry Stevens declared it dehumanizing. Their activism, supported by the Iowa State Education Association, ensured the bill’s defeat. This exemplifies students’ increasing influence on making inclusive policies, speaking louder against discriminatory bills.

13. Federal Executive Orders’ Impact
One past federal executive order barred federally funded schools from allowing trans students to use names, pronouns, or facilities consistent with their gender identity. Critics like Lambda Legal’s Nicholas Hite condemned it as “unconstitutional nonsense” that endangered trans youth by exposing them to bullying and violence at home. Requirements like these place pressure on schools to conform in detriment of the safety of students, contradicting attempts to create inclusive spaces.

14. The Trans Educators Network
Harper Keenan developed the Trans Educators Network after a trans friend took his own life, bridging a sense of isolation among trans educators. From a handful of contacts to over 400 members, the network offers a space for brainstorming struggles like non-gendered titles. Beck Watt valued its support, saying, “It’s hard to be struggling day-to-day for your identity.” The network builds solidarity, sharing strategies like the use of “Mx.” or “Teacher [last name],” making trans educators stronger.