I am a white woman named Karen. That means that I routinely see my name used as a shorthand for privileged white women asking to see the manager. And, because “karens” are portrayed as complainers, I find myself sucking it up. After all, complaining would just prove that I am a “karen.”

In August 2020, Helen Lewis wrote in The Atlantic, “Karen has become synonymous with woman among those who consider woman an insult. There is now a market, measured in attention and approbation, for anyone who can sniff out a Karen.”^[3] Lewis also noted what she called the “finger trap” of the term, saying “What is more Karen than complaining about being called ‘Karen’? There is a strong incentive to be cool about other women being Karened, lest you be Karened yourself.”^[3]

Karen. (2025, May 26). In Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_(slang)

Today, I decided to push back a bit. I recently joined a welcoming community of women. This morning’s email used the karen slur twice, once in the email subject line and then in the message itself. I replied to let them know that this did not make me feel welcome. I received a lovely apology and an offer to cancel my account, but I plan to remain.

I do have a sniggle of guilt for speaking up probably from growing up in the “if you can’t say something nice” era. Plus, I hate to make another human being feel badly about themselves. But, a slur is a slur, and if your stated goal is to be welcoming, language must be a priority.