The 'G-word': The slur you didn't know was a slur

Episode 1: "The G-Word." In the fall of 2019, reporter Faith E. Pinho received a tip from Paulina Stevens. Paulina said she had grown up in an insular Romani community in California, where she was raised to be a wife, mother and fortuneteller — until she decided to break away. This opened the door to a story spanning multiple continents, hundreds of years and complex, even metaphysical, realities.

Read the episode transcript.

Whenever I describe the “Foretold” podcast to anyone for the first time, I always run into the same problem: a linguistic snag tripping me up before I even begin. How do I say this? The only way to get through is to address it head-on.

So I ask, “Have you heard of Romani people?”

Then I pause for signs of comprehension and recognition. If I don’t get it, I follow up with: “They’re also known by the slur ‘Gypsy.’”

The issue here is that this term — the G-word — is more widely recognizable than the preferred term “Romani people” or “the Roma.” But when used by non-Romani people, the G-word is a pejorative. Somehow, the word exists in many forms at once: It’s a widely known epithet of a bygone era, a counterculture shorthand for something exotic and spiritual, a proud self-identifier and an unspeakable slur.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of people don’t know that. Just a few weeks ago, Whoopi Goldberg issued an apology after she faced backlash for using a derivative of the slur — a word that means cheated: In discussing supporters of former President Trump on national television, she mentioned “people who still believe that he got gypped somehow in the election.”

Clearly, the slur status of the G-word hasn’t been fully absorbed by the mainstream.

This issue has presented a unique problem for us. Some people already know that the G-word is offensive; some don’t. So how does one describe a podcast about a Romani American fortuneteller to those who have never heard the term “Romani”? There’s no way around the conversational roadblock. We must address it and acknowledge the context.

Faith E. Pinho in "Foretold"

When “Foretold” host Faith E. Pinho first met Paulina Stevens in a cafe in 2019, she didn’t know the G-word was a slur. She didn’t know the first thing about Paulina’s culture beyond the top news results on Google.

What dominates the mainstream news coverage about Romani people are stories about psychic scams. So, naturally, when Paulina first approached Faith, she led with a tip about a psychic shop, hoping that the intrigue would work in her favor.

Faith E. Pinho in "Foretold"

But Paulina’s story was more than it seemed.

Faith E. Pinho in "Foretold"

Paulina’s experience resonates with anyone struggling with which parts of their upbringing they want to perpetuate and which parts they want to leave behind. Her story explores the push and pull of individuality and community. What do you owe to your culture? What does it owe to you?

This is the kind of story that starts off complicated. No stone can be left unturned. No simple truth is truly simple. You have to hold several contradictions in your mind at once, to sit with the discomfort and beauty of each layer that’s peeled back.

There are so many different layers in Paulina’s story, just as there are so many versions of the Romani American experience.

Paulina Stevens in "Foretold"

— Jazmín Aguilera

Go even deeper

Dr. Ethel Brooks, the Romani cultural consultant for the "Foretold" podcast, dives into history and describes how her heritage fits into her own life.

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.