Sitting at a computer months ago, I excitedly finished writing my very first news article for the Crimson. The subject was the forthcoming opening of the Shops by Harvard Yard. But little did I know I had committed a terrible sin; I had deigned to be specific. Gender specific, that is.

One of my paragraphs described a kiosk that had been set up in the newly renovated arcade. This particular stand dealt in women's hair accessories, and the salesperson (note the gender neutral term), had told me that female workers in the Holyoke Center were her best customers. I innocently included this fact in my article.

When it came time for my first edit, however, I was told that the world "businesswomen" would have to be neutralized. Being a lowly, intimidated comper in my first day on the job, I said nothing, although the change bothered me. After all, the stand sold gender specific in my terminology? I doubt many men frequented the kiosk, and men were certainly not the stand's primary clientele.

Nevertheless, my word was stricken from the article, presumably because it was somehow exclusionary. The rephrasing of my thoughts replaced "businesswomen" with "Holyoke Center staffers," completely corrupting the original meaning of the sentence. Now it sounded as if every executive in the building were shelling out money for headbands and berets.

Clearly, this was an exceptional snag in a generally sound policy. Often there is no need to make nouns gender specific. If the sex of the person holding a position is truly irrelevant, then terms like "chairwoman" and "salesman" provide extraneous information. There is no good reason why "he" should be used instead of "she" in the general case. And understandably, people dislike the term "freshman," which excludes half of the first-year class.

The policy of gender neutrality is supported by those who realize that language is a powerful force in shaping the way we think. As our primary means of communicating our ideas, words often reflect the boundaries we place on our own thoughts. By using a term such as "Congressperson," a writer chooses to convey only one relevant fact about an individual: that he or she serves in Congress. All other biographical information may be interesting, but unnecessary; all people are eligible.

But when gender specificity is taken to an extreme, it can undo the very goals it seeks to achieve. Stripping words down to their bare essentials can lead to a vague, nondescriptive--and practically useless--form of language. Imagine the birth of the human race told in gender neutral terms: God caused the person to fall into a deep sleep and took one of its ribs and closed flesh around it. God built the rib taken from the person into a person...This will be called a person, for from a person was it taken. Clearly, neutering language has its limits.

This linguistic problem is only the tip of a much larger debate on the meaning of gender in our time. Are the sexes best served through disregarding the differences between men and women, or through recognizing those differences? The most recent issue of Peninsula makes that publication's views clear. According to the magazine, one of the editors' women of the year, Maggie Gallagher, believes that "while mainstream feminism tells us sexual equality means recognition of the androgynous ideal and a denial of gender stereotypes, in the end, women will still be women, and men will be men."

Gallagher's view, though defending the uniqueness of each sex, leaves little room for change. The fact is, many stereotypes are embedded in our society; often, the only way to eradicate them is to eliminate gender from the social picture. If we believe that women and men exist in completely separate spheres, we can make little progress in the quest for gender equality.

But the point is well taken that certain immutable characteristics of men and women make complete neutrality inaccurate. Ideally, the value of "separate but equal," which American law has solidly rejected, is precisely what would render sexual justice. Women and men should be recognized for the different types of people that they are, while being guaranteed equal access to all the privileges of society.

The Harvard-Radcliffe Political Union held a recent discussion concerning the importance of Radcliffe as a separate institution. The forum revealed an overwhelming student opinion, across ideological lines, that Radcliffe has outlived its usefulness. Nearly all panel members saw the women's "college" as an obstacle to the complete integration of women into the Harvard community.

Though this may seem like support for a more androgynous environment, the students' logic led to precisely the opposite conclusion. Most panelists think that Harvard has placed women on a par with men, and any further segregation simply obstructs equality.

The University has adopted a pluralistic approach to gender differences, creating, for example, a committee on women's studies to allow those interested in this gender specific field to pursue their interests.

Language should reflect the beliefs of the times. At Harvard, where the current attitude seems to favor allowing differences to thrive in a pluralistic setting, gender specific language is not always a bad thing; indeed, it is often necessary in obtaining a clear meaning. By comprehending where the line between fairness and factual accuracy lies, we will all understand each other much better.