LaundroMatt Transcript

LaundroMatt: Don't Call Them Hoarders

Matt Williams examines the word "hoarder" and the way labels can reduce complicated human beings to a single struggle. He considers the influence of television, the role of stigma and shame, and why person-first language can help create a safer path toward understanding and support.

Announcer: You're listening to *Unpacked: The Truth About Hoarding*, a podcast that goes beyond the mess to explore the heart, humanity, and healing behind hoarding disorder, hosted by Matt Williams.

Matt: All right, welcome back to *Unpacked: The Truth About Hoarding*. I'm your host, the commonly named Matt Williams, coming to you live from high above the Rockwellian Main Street of Irwin, Pennsylvania.

Today, I want to talk about just one word - a word you've probably heard hundreds of times, or maybe you've even used it yourself: "hoarder."

It's in television titles. It's in news stories. People use it casually in conversation: "My neighbor is a hoarder." "My uncle is a hoarder." "Look at that house. A hoarder must live there."

We've heard the word so often that we've almost stopped hearing what it actually says. But I think it's time we did, because words matter.

I don't call the people I work with hoarders. I call them people. People affected by hoarding disorder. People living with hoarding disorder. People struggling with clutter. Friends. Group members. Neighbors. Human beings.

There is an important difference.

Think about how our language has changed around other conditions. There was a time when someone struggling with alcohol was simply called a drunk. We understand now how demeaning that can be. It takes an incredibly complicated human being - with a family, a history, talents, pain, dreams, and struggles - and reduces that person to one behavior.

Imagine introducing someone this way: "This is John. He's a drunk."

You probably feel immediately that something is wrong with that sentence. I hope you do.

John may have an alcohol problem, but John isn't an alcohol problem. There's a person underneath the diagnosis, and the same thing is true with hoarding disorder.

When I call somebody a hoarder, I've taken something they struggle with and turned it into who they are. That's a very different message from saying, "This is a person who lives with hoarding disorder."

One describes a condition. The other becomes an identity.

And I think television has played an enormous role in making that acceptable. For years, millions of Americans have watched programs with words like *Hoarders* right in the title.

It was the title. Think about that for a moment. Before the episode even begins, the person has already been labeled.

They're not Mary. They're not Robert. They're not a retired teacher. They're not someone's mother. They're not an artist. They're not a veteran. They're not a person who lost somebody they love.

They're a hoarder.

Once you've put someone into that box, it becomes much easier to judge them.

That's one of the problems with labels. Labels make complicated people simple.

Television needs simple. Television needs characters, heroes, villains, victims, and problems that can supposedly be solved before the credits roll. But human beings aren't that simple, and hoarding disorder certainly isn't.

I've talked before on this podcast about the people I've met through this work. I've met extraordinarily generous people, creative people, funny people, intelligent people, people who care deeply about animals, the environment, their families, and helping other people.

I've met people whose biggest problem may actually be that they see too much value in the world around them. They see possibilities where somebody else sees garbage. They see memories where somebody else sees clutter. They see something that could help another person where somebody else sees something that belongs in a dumpster.

Now, those qualities can absolutely contribute to serious problems. A home can become unsafe. Relationships can suffer. People can become isolated, and often do.

Hoarding disorder is real. I'm not suggesting otherwise. But here's the important part: the disorder doesn't tell you everything you need to know about the person. Not even close.

And yet, the word "hoarder" encourages us to believe that it does. It creates a picture in our minds, usually a picture created by television: extreme clutter, garbage, infestations, and someone screaming while a cleaning crew carries things outside.

Now imagine you're someone struggling with hoarding disorder. That is the picture society has attached to the word being used to describe you.

Would you want to ask for help? Would you want your neighbors to know? Would you want your co-workers to know? Would you tell your family?

Or would you just close the curtains, lock the door, and hope nobody finds out?

This is why stigma matters. Shame creates isolation, and isolation makes recovery that much harder.

If we want people to seek help, our language has to communicate something very different. It has to say: you are welcome. You are not your disorder. You are worthy of dignity.

We're interested in understanding what happened, not judging what's wrong.

And that's why I prefer person-first language: a person with hoarding disorder.

It sounds like a small change, but listen to the difference:

A hoarder.

A person with hoarding disorder.

In the second sentence, the person comes first. And I think that's exactly where the person belongs.

Now, I also want to be careful about something. Some people with lived experience use the word "hoarder" to describe themselves. And that's their choice.

People have the right to choose the language they use to describe their own experiences and themselves. This isn't about policing language at all. It isn't about being offended by every word.

It's just about respect. It's about asking ourselves whether the language we're using helps someone feel understood or helps them feel ashamed.

There's another reason why this matters so much to me. When we change the language, we begin changing the question.

If I see a hoarder, my first question might be, "How do we clean this up?"

But if I see a person affected by hoarding disorder, my questions become different:

What happened?

What might this person need?

What does this person value?

What are they afraid of losing?

Those questions lead us somewhere very different.

And that's what this podcast, *Unpacked*, is about: changing the way we see people.

Because long before we ever change someone's home, we need to change the way our society looks at the person living inside it.

So here's my challenge this week: listen for the word.

You'll hear it on television, online, and maybe in conversation. When you hear "hoarder," try replacing it in your mind with "a person affected by hoarding disorder."

Then notice what happens.

Because when we change the words, often we change the picture. And when we change the picture, we may finally begin seeing the person.

Not a hoarder.

Not a house.

Not a television spectacle.

A human being.

And every human being deserves to be more than the worst thing someone can see about them.

So thank you once again for listening to *Unpacked: The Truth About Hoarding*. Until next time, let's keep changing the conversation - one word, one story, and one person at a time.

Talk soon.

Announcer: Thanks for listening to *Unpacked: The Truth About Hoarding*. For more information or support, visit [fighttheblightinc.com](https://fighttheblightinc.com). We'll see you next time.