I recently read an article referencing the need to get rid of the word “fireman.” It’s not the first of its kind and won’t be the last, but it should be. I don’t remember wanting to be a fireman when I was a kid, but apparently I said I wanted to “wash fires” when I grew up. And after a few years of trying to find my place, I found my way to the job. When deciding to make the leap, I began studying the history and the culture of what it was really like to be a part of the fire service. One word stood out: “firemanship.” This word clearly contained so much meaning; it defined a trade, a craft, a passion for doing work well. When I looked into people who used the word, they were individuals who constantly strove to be the best they could be and then share that with others. It was about service. Citizens before self. It was more than just a job. It was a life’s work, a “calling.” And for someone who felt like they needed to find their purpose, this word was my answer.
Webster defines “firemanship” as “the practice, skill, or occupation of firefighting.” Dictionary.com defines “fireman” as “a person employed to extinguish or prevent fires.” I see no mention of gender there. It’s purely about the unachievable pursuit of perfection. It’s a career that constantly pushes you to improve. Skills will never be “perfect.” There’s always a way to do things better.
The more I dug into the word, and specifically the culture, the more I fell in love with it. Never once did the letters “m-a-n” in the middle of the word make it feel like it was something I couldn’t be a part of. That’s akin to saying I can’t help my daughter build a snowman, because she’s a little girl. “No honey, you can’t build a snowman, it has to be a snowWOMAN. Not that carrot, it’s too manly for the nose…better pick a dainty one.” Do we really think she cares? Or does she just want to make something from snow? Do you think when she’s 10 she’ll be afraid to go build one herself because it’s a “man,” therefore only boys can do it? Of course not.
You know who doesn’t have this problem? The military. Are we going to start asking them to change the term “corpsman” to something more “inclusive?” Should they be “corpspeople”? Is every word that ends in “man” destined to be changed to avoid the prospect of offending someone? At some point, we have to stop singing the same song. It’s time to realize that the argument claiming “fireman” is not inclusive is a red herring, and that those days are long gone. If the only way you can talk about the job is to complain about it, maybe you should just stop talking. I’d like to go back to studying tactics.
Now before I get crowned the woman-hater, I do understand that generations before me struggled to get on the job. I’m not naive. I know there are people who still to this day treat women poorly, who think they don’t belong. There are people who think women shouldn’t be in any workplace. Does that keep you from thinking you can be a teacher? A nurse? No. I myself have had plenty of “they let women do that?” comments. I’ve had moments where someone is concerned about two females working together for our “safety.” You know who else has these issues? Guys under 5’8”, the nerdy dudes, minorities, and more. So why are we the only ones whining? Why aren’t we embracing the silent professional mindset and ignoring the noise?
Anything that doubts your ability should be fuel. That’s the gas in my engine on days I want to settle. Hearing someone say they “had” to prove themselves—they “had” to work harder, as if it’s a bad thing—is disgusting. You should want to prove yourself. You should want to be the best. You can’t say you’re here for “them” and whine about having to work hard at the same time. If you don’t have the drive in you for improvement, then maybe this isn’t the job for you.
The last person I want working in my firehouse is one who’s comfortable settling in for the status quo.
That’s the whole point of the word, “firemanship.” It’s a craft, a drive, a never-ending pursuit of excellence. Anyone can be a firefighter; only those who constantly strive to be the best can be a fireman. Don’t want to be one? Maybe that tells me everything I need to know about you.
Maybe instead of focusing all our attention on a word and claiming that it’s hurting recruitment, we should focus on the things that are actually hurting recruiting: work schedules (looking at you, 24/48), soul-sucking call volumes, cancer, lack of sleep, unsupportive officer’s and admin…the list goes on. It’s about much more than a singular word.
As someone who enjoys psychology, it’s fascinating how this word, meant to describe a craft, has been morphed into something intended to oppress women. It’s become yet another thing to divide us. There’s the group screaming we needed to remove it, solely because it is offensive. They tend to become so busy talking about sexism and culture they forget to talk about actual firefighting.
And then there are those of us who are trying to use it to describe striving for excellence, all while trying to focus on the job. One group wanting to be recognized for something they identify as; one wanting to describe a craft. One group distracting from the mission; one solely focused on it. And frankly, the ones who hate the word, based on behavior, would likely not earn being called it.
How about this: I’m offended you want to prevent me from being a part of a culture, a history. By demanding we remove the word fireman from the fire service, you’re taking away a piece of me. You’re preventing me, a woman, in 2025, from being involved in a part of the job. It may be an unpopular opinion, but maybe you are the problem, not me.
Here’s the thing. Since the beginning I’ve been worried about being better; you’ve been worried about being a female. We are not the same.
The above represents the opinions of the author and are not representative of her employer.
Lex Shady is a firefighter/paramedic with the University City (MO) Fire Department. She is a two-time FDIC instructor as well as a contributing author to Fire Engineering. She also co-hosts the podcast “Main Street Firefighting” and co-authors the monthly “Main Street Memo.” She instructs locally with the North County Training Association, Engine House Training, and the St. Louis County Fire Academy.
