Across sectors, organizational websites are the go-to resource for understanding an organization’s mission, values, and activities (Powell et al., 2016; McAllister and Taylor, 2007). This is especially true for nonprofit environmental organizations, where websites play a key role in raising awareness, engaging supporters, showcasing impact, providing information, facilitating action, and building credibility (Lowman et al., 2025). Websites function as communication platforms, informing the public about environmental issues and the organization’s mission and goals (Kenix, 2007). They also enhance engagement by creating a community of volunteers, donors, and advocates through content (Lovejoy and Saxton, 2012). At the same time, we understand that the cost and expertise required to develop and sustain a professional, engaging, and informative website can be prohibitive, especially for smaller nonprofit organizations, which may lack the financial resources to hire skilled web developers or the technical knowledge to manage and update their websites regularly. These limitations can result in outdated content, reduced functionality, and a less impactful online presence, ultimately hindering an organization’s ability to have a consistently up-to-date website if they have one at all. Nonetheless, an organization’s audience receives messages from what appears (or does not appear) in digital spaces.

Our previous study introduced and employed Critical Signaling Theory to examine how environmental organizations in Buffalo, a city characterized by systemic inequities and significant racial segregation, communicate their mission, commitment to justice, and organizational diversity through their websites (Lowman et al., 2025).

As a team with individuals with multiply-marginalized identities, we draw on the results of our previous study raised broader concerns about the persistent absence of transgender and gender nonconforming (TGNC) identities and pronoun usage to indicate a welcoming space for those identities (Johnson et al., 2021; Kruk and Matsick, 2021; Human Rights Campaign Foundation, 2025) on these websites. This gave rise to the current study, which extends our application of Critical Signaling Theory by examining how environmental justice organizations communicate (or fail to communicate) inclusion of people with genderqueer and trans identities. As environmental justice is inherently intersectional, understanding how these organizations represent multiple marginalized identities online is essential for assessing their legitimacy, reach, and effectiveness in advocating for truly inclusive environmental futures. To guide our investigation, we asked the following research question: How do nonprofit environmental organizations in Buffalo use pronouns on their websites to signal gender inclusivity, and to what extent does this reflect a substantive commitment to diversity and justice?

Environmental justice (EJ) has historically centered on race, class, and geographic disparities in environmental harm; however, contemporary scholarship increasingly emphasizes the need to account for intersectionality in understanding environmental burdens (Ergas et al., 2021). Intersectionality, originally theorized by Crenshaw (1991), explains how overlapping social identities, such as race, gender identity, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status, shape individual and group experiences of oppression. In the context of EJ, this approach is critical to uncovering the compounded vulnerabilities faced by LGBTQ+ communities (Grant et al., 2011).

As Goldsmith and Bell (2022) identified, environmental justice scholars have attended to racial disparities in social determinants of health but have understudied the impacts of environmental exposure and health disparities on LGBTQ+ people. Part of the reason for limited information on environmental justice issues for the LGBTQ+ population is fear of discrimination within that community, as well as the way that census and other agency data are collected (Goldsmith and Bell, 2022). These agencies typically offer only sex designations as options for gender, which effectively erases trans and non-binary people from such data, and trans people are disproportionately unhoused (Goldsmith and Bell, 2022; Romero et al., 2020). Another study by Gaard (2022) highlights how climate crises and environmental degradation uniquely affect queer and trans populations through mechanisms such as evacuation discrimination, health service exclusion, and the neglect of chosen families and companion animals during disaster planning.

Environmental pollutants and climate-related stressors also interact with LGBTQ+ health disparities, such as elevated rates of chronic illness and mental health conditions (Hill, 2025; Grant et al., 2011). As documented in Hill’s (2025) thesis, the need for inclusive policy approaches that prioritize LGBTQ+ communities in climate adaptation and environmental health planning is paramount. Such policies would signal a welcoming attitude toward the queer people and their needs, as Kim’s (2023) work, while rooted in public relations, pressed. Her findings suggest that LGBTQ+ individuals are more likely to engage with and trust organizations that demonstrate a commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion, an insight that is relevant for EJ advocacy groups seeking to build coalitions with queer communities.

While some scholars have begun integrating an intersectional approach to their studies of environmental justice (e.g., Bowleg, 2012; Jampel, 2018; Zota and VanNoy, 2021), research using an intersectional framework has been limited (Hill, 2025). Taking an intersectional approach to environmental justice would mean considering the ways in which environmental injustice acts on individuals across multiple axes of identity (e.g., race, gender, sexuality, disability status). When taken together, the scholarship shared on EJ and intersectional justice cannot be fully realized without integrating intersectionality into EJ theory and practice. Policies that aim to rectify environmental inequities must not only account for race and class but also address the unique experiences of LGBTQ+ individuals who navigate overlapping systems of oppression.

Critical Signaling Theory (CST, Lowman et al., 2025) provides a useful analytical framework for understanding how organizations communicate their values and commitments through their websites. Signaling theory Spence (1978) suggests that individuals form perceptions about organizations based on limited but strategically presented information often drawn from publicly available sources such as websites (Hoefer and Twis, 2018). Prior research has shown that the way organizations present themselves online significantly influences external perceptions (Allen et al., 2007; Rynes et al., 1991). To address the limitations of signaling theory in capturing racial inequities, we utilize CST, which incorporates Critical Race Theory (CRT; Bell, 1980). CST enables a critical examination of how signals—the presence or absence of visible representations of racial diversity or professed commitments to justice—are communicated both explicitly and implicitly in ways that either perpetuate or challenge existing racial hierarchies. For example, when an environmental organization explicitly integrates inclusive language and references to diversity and justice within its website, it signals a stronger commitment to these principles, potentially attracting collaborators, donors, and community support (Miles and Ya’Ukuu, 2024).

Conversely, a lack of clear, intentional signals, such as the omission of pronouns or superficial references to diversity, may indicate a performative rather than substantive commitment to inclusivity (Holt et al., 2019). Holt et al. (2019) found the importance of inclusive online communication for TGNC individuals seeking mental health services. The study highlights that initial points of contact, such as websites and intake forms, can either facilitate access to care through gender-affirmative messaging or impede it through enacted stigma, potentially causing further harm.

This insight is especially relevant to our ongoing research on environmental organizations in Buffalo, NY. Applying our understanding of intersectionality, we turned our attention to the use of gender markers on organizational websites. We were particularly interested in whether environmental nonprofits signal gender inclusivity online, specifically through practices like including staff pronouns on websites.

The inclusion of pronouns in digital spaces such as staff bios or email signatures is a relatively simple yet powerful act that affirms TGNC people by normalizing gender diversity and reducing the burden they often bear in disclosing or defending their identity (Spectrum Center, n.d.). Michigan University’s Spectrum Center (n.d.) describes how gender inclusive practices also enhance workplace culture, improve employee satisfaction, and reflect an organization’s broader commitment to equity and inclusion. Failing to incorporate these signals, by contrast, may alienate TGNC visitors and signal to broader audiences a lack of awareness or care around issues of gender justice. By foregrounding race and power, CST aligns with CRT’s commitment to challenging dominant ideologies and amplifying marginalized voices. Thus, applying CST in the EJ context reinforces the idea that intersectional justice must be both a communicative and structural commitment.

Particularly in the aftermath of Executive Order 14168 (2025), which attempts to codify a chromosome-congruent gender binary, and the erasure of environmental justice from the Environmental Protection Agency’s website, it is important for environmental organizations to signal their commitment to gender justice and inclusion. While these developments reflect the U.S. policy landscape, similar tensions between gender inclusion and environmental governance occur globally. For example, international NGOs and government agencies also grapple with how to integrate gender-affirming practices into sustainability frameworks, often influenced by cultural norms and legal structures. Thus, though rooted in a U.S. context, our research brief speaks to broader challenges in aligning environmental advocacy with intersectional justice worldwide. Many environmentally focused non-profits exist to fill gaps left by civic and governmental agencies, but their seeming lack of awareness of the importance of self-identification for TGNC individuals can act as a site of further exclusion and injustice. In excluding pronouns from their websites, organizations contribute to the erasure of TGNC people by presenting a false narrative in which gender attribution (how others perceive one’s gender) always reflects gender identity (one’s own conception of their gender).

1977 is a pivotal year in LGBTQ+ history in Buffalo, NY. The city’s social order was disrupted when Robert Hairston and John Morrison, two Black gay men, were refused entry at Mean Alice nightclub on Chippewa Street. They filed a discrimination complaint with the New York State Department of Human Rights. Although Morrison did not win, Hairston received a $500 settlement and perhaps more importantly, the event galvanized Buffalo’s Black LGBTQ+ community into action (WKBW, 2023). Out of this spark emerged Just Us, a Harlem-inspired social space created to foster safety, connection, and solidarity among Black same-gender-loving individuals. That same year also marked a turning point for interracial queer activism when Madeline Davis, a white lesbian leader, co-founded the Mattachine Society of the Niagara Frontier. This organization became Buffalo’s first formally recognized gay rights group and laid the foundation for what would become the Dr. Madeline Davis LGBTQ Archive at Buffalo State University, a historical resource reflecting the intertwined struggles against racism, homophobia, and economic injustice (Dunbar, n.d.).

For queer Black residents, these overlapping vulnerabilities—racial, environmental, and spatial—stress the importance of intersectional environmental justice. While LGBTQ+ visibility thrives in better-resourced neighborhoods like Allentown and the Elmwood Village, Buffalo’s East Side communities remain disproportionately burdened by environmental injustice and underrepresented. Nearly 68% of East Side residents are Black, and over 39% live below the federal poverty line. Both facts are an extension of historical redlining and disinvestment in East Side neighborhoods.

As documented by Miles and Ya’Ukuu (2024), East Side residents face heightened exposure to environmental hazards alongside entrenched socioeconomic disparities. The area ranks in the 91st percentile for lead exposure and in the 82nd percentile for traffic-related pollution. It contains the majority of Buffalo’s hazardous waste and brownfield sites, compounding long-standing health disparities such as asthma and heart disease. Tools like EJScreen, when paired with local knowledge, offer critical insights and strategies for inclusive environmental advocacy (Miles and Ya’Ukuu, 2024). These data-driven efforts have broader implications. They aim to combat environmental injustice by eliminating disparities in air pollution exposure, a burden Black East Side residents carry four times more often than their white counterparts, while also reinforcing the active participation of marginalized communities in shaping policy (UB News Center, 2024; UB News Center, 2022; UB Arts and Sciences, 2024).

In contrast, Buffalo’s LGBTQ+ social infrastructure has found fertile ground in predominantly white neighborhoods, particularly in Allentown and Elmwood Village. These tree-lined, walkable neighborhoods known for their historic parkways designed by Frederick Law Olmsted support many queer venues like Fugazi, Underground Niteclub, and 26, alongside cultural hubs and Pride celebrations (Buffalo Rising, 2019; Visit Buffalo Niagara, 2023; QLIST, n.d.; WKBW, 2023; Yurcaba, 2025). The concentration of such inclusive spaces offers visible affirmation and camaraderie for LGBTQ+ people, but it also highlights an “urban burb” pattern: queer visibility is localized to relatively advantaged areas, not the historically marginalized East Side. This spatial disparity became even more poignant in March 2025, when Buffalo artist and queer leader Mickey Harmon, known for his murals, gallery work, and volunteer snow-clearing drives in Allentown was tragically killed in a home invasion. His death sparked widespread mourning and brought public attention to the vulnerability and precarity queer individuals face, even in culturally resourced neighborhoods (Yurcaba, 2025). Together, these unfolding narratives expose how racial segregation, queer place-making, and environmental injustice overlap in Buffalo. Black and queer-identifying residents of the East Side are often deprived of green infrastructure, subjected to higher pollution exposures, and lack access to culturally inclusive spaces. Conversely, LGBTQ+ individuals in Allentown and Elmwood might enjoy community resources but still contend with broader vulnerability and the challenge of extending inclusion beyond neighborhood boundaries.

To build truly intersectional environmental justice in Buffalo, organizations must not only address physical inequities, like polluted air and diminished green space, but also reckon with social disparities tied to race, sexuality, gender identity, and neighborhood context. That means investing in queer-inclusive ecological projects on the East Side, embedding LGBTQ+ leadership in planning processes, and ensuring that air monitoring, tree plantings, and park development meet the needs of all residents, especially those at the nexus of multiple marginalizations.

Our research team is grounded in justice, and we reflect the diversity we wish to see in the organizations we contribute to throughout our city and examined in this study. Cole is a white non-binary person who advocates for equity on campus and in the community, leading this research with an interdisciplinary approach that combines expertise in social justice, rhetorical analysis, and cultural studies. Monica, a Black woman, critical race theorist, and community activist, contributes a strong foundation in environmental justice and community engagement. Together, we approach this research with a commitment to examining issues through diverse, intersectional lenses while prioritizing solidarity, inclusivity, and creating spaces that reflect these values. Our collaboration has been shaped by a shared dedication to addressing challenging topics that push the boundaries of the field while advancing meaningful change within the spaces and research we engage.

Of the 43 organizations reviewed in 2023, only 3—Clean Air Coalition, PUSH Buffalo, and UB Sustainability—explicitly included pronouns such as “she/her,” “he/him,” or “they/them” alongside staff bios, representing just 6.9% of the sample (see Supplementary Table 1). Each of these organizations also included at least one individual who used gender-neutral pronouns (they/them). Most organizations (93.1%) simply list staff names without indicating pronouns, leaving a person’s gender identity open to interpretation (often based on cisgendered understandings of binary gender). In addition to the results of our pronoun analysis, we also include an overview of other linguistic signals on these three organizations websites.

Clean Air Coalition and PUSH Buffalo both explicitly articulated justice-oriented missions. Clean Air Coalition states that it “organizes individuals and institutions to advance environmental justice and public health in Western New York,” and this commitment is evident in its online presence. Pronouns are listed alongside staff names, and the site’s language emphasizes systemic equity, community-driven organizing, and collective empowerment—core tenets of both environmental justice and intersectional practice. Similarly, PUSH Buffalo grounds its work in both environmental and social justice, stating its mission as “mobilizing residents to create strong neighborhoods with quality, affordable housing, expanded local hiring opportunities, and to advance economic and environmental justice.” Staff bios on PUSH’s site included pronouns, reinforcing a culture of belonging, equity, and respect for a range of gender identities.

While not explicitly using the language of justice in its mission, UB (University at Buffalo) Sustainability states its aim “to advance sustainability across UB’s operations, curriculum, and research” and signals inclusive values through the presence of staff pronouns and other content on its website. Although justice is not centered in the mission statement, the site uses language that reflects equity, accessibility, and an appreciation for diverse perspectives within sustainability work. In this case, the presence of pronouns can be interpreted as a subtler signal of institutional alignment with inclusive practices, even if not explicitly framed through an environmental justice lens.

Across all three organizations, the use of pronouns was not an isolated act but appeared as part of a larger, visible commitment to creating just, inclusive, and affirming environments. Clean Air Coalition and PUSH Buffalo demonstrated this most directly through the integration of justice language and the representation of gender-diverse identities in their online materials. UB Sustainability, though more reserved in its framing, still engaged in inclusive signaling through staff representation. In contrast, the vast majority of organizations in this sample—40 out of 43—did not include pronouns in any public-facing materials. Of the eight organizations that mentioned justice in their mission statements, six (75%) did not include pronouns.

Upon revisiting the websites of Clear Air Coalition, PUSH Buffalo, and UB Sustainability in fall 2025, we observed that only 2 of the 3 retained staff and board pronouns. Clean Air Coalition and UB Sustainability retain the listing of staff pronouns with names. PUSH Buffalo only lists the names of its board members and does not list staff names. Instead, its staff page lists the departments within the organization and their phone line extensions. We also noted that both Clean Air Coalition referenced an interconnection between working-class, queer, and women’s struggles and environmental justice and that UB Sustainability featured an image of a crosswalk painted to represent a pride flag in its discussion of the importance of diversity and inclusion in sustainability work. We reexamined the remaining 40 organizations’ websites and found that none of the organizations had pronouns listed after the names of individuals for board members, but one (1) organization—Massachusetts Avenue Project (MAP)—did have pronouns listed for their staff. Upon further examination of MAP’s website, we noted that their values were, in this order, inclusivity, diversity, equity, nourishment, and land stewardship. Other than individuals who used she/they pronouns to self-identify on the website and the mention of gender inclusion in their values, we did not note any specifically TGNC-related imagery or language on MAP’s website.

The purpose of this study was to use Critical Signaling Theory to assess whether environmentally-focused organizations in Buffalo, NY, included personal pronouns when listing the names of their staff and board members. We discovered that only 3 of 43 organizations did so in the fall of 2023, while only 2 of the 3 continued to do so in the fall of 2025. Our findings indicate that despite many organizations within the environmental sector professing their commitment to environmental and social justice, the inclusion of pronouns is notably absent in the majority of their online representations. This lack suggests that the broader shift toward inclusivity in organizational culture has not fully permeated these spaces. Even among organizations that claimed justice as a core value in their mission or programming, the absence of personal pronouns raises questions about how organizational commitments to justice are communicated to the public.

We cannot know simply from viewing why PUSH Buffalo updated their website to remove pronouns and why Clean Air Coalition and UB Sustainability retained them. It is possible that the latter two have not updated their websites due to a lack of resources, instead of a sustained commitment to TGNC sense of belonging. Perhaps PUSH Buffalo considered that more conservative donors and potential supporters would view the inclusion of pronouns as out of line with the organization’s work and withdraw their support. On the other hand, PUSH could be concerned about “outing” its staff and board members who are TGNC and therefore chose to remove all pronouns to protect those most vulnerable.

It is possible that organizations may decide not to use pronouns to protect someone’s identity. At the same time, it may also potentially signal that they might not welcome the use of varied pronouns. From the perspective of Critical Signaling Theory, the lack of pronoun use represents a missed opportunity to affirm inclusivity and intersectional awareness through simple, visible cues. In an era where gender identity and justice are increasingly central to environmental and social advocacy, the omission of pronouns may unintentionally signal exclusion or a limited understanding of what inclusive practice entails.

It is troubling, therefore, that the organizations that did include pronouns had at least one person on their staff that used non-binary pronouns. This was true of the two organizations who retained pronouns in 2025 and in MAP, the organization who included staff but not board pronouns in 2025. We cannot know why MAP’s staff pronouns were included and not those of their board members. Perhaps board members did not want their pronouns shared, or perhaps the presence of two people who used “they” on the staff influenced the decision to include pronouns for staff. While featuring pronouns can serve as a meaningful signal of gender inclusivity and an acknowledgment of identities beyond the binary, only doing so in the presence of a person who uses non-binary pronouns or those that differ from their sex assigned at birth can signal that sharing pronouns only matters for TGNC people, rather than signaling that sharing pronouns, even if one everyone is cisgender, can be a first step in welcoming TGNC individuals to the organization and the work they do.

The inclusion of pronouns also has legal and ethical implications, even in this contentious moment. For example, Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits discrimination based on gender identity, which aligns the integration of pronouns into staff profiles with broader federal legal and ethical standards. By doing so, organizations not only comply with the law but also actively demonstrate respect for the identities of all individuals, which is crucial for creating non-discriminatory environments. This practice signals a commitment to human dignity and the legal and ethical responsibilities that come with it.

While our findings demonstrate that some environmental organizations in the Buffalo-Niagara region are making progress, the overall lack of pronoun inclusion calls for a broader shift towards more consistent practices that reflect a genuine commitment to intersectional inclusivity. The integration of pronouns is a small step in a much larger movement toward creating spaces where all individuals feel respected, valued, and included, regardless of their gender identity.

Ultimately, this study highlights the importance of going beyond surface-level commitments to justice and inclusivity. Using pronouns on organizational websites can significantly contribute to creating spaces that affirm the identities of all individuals. As organizations in the environmental and social justice sectors continue to prioritize inclusivity, they must think intersectionally and recognize the power of pronouns as a tool for building more welcoming and equitable environments for marginalized communities, including transgender and gender non-conforming individuals.

This study highlights the gap between environmental organizations’ stated commitments to justice and the signals they convey through their digital presence. While pronoun inclusion is a small, low-cost practice, its absence on most websites reflects a missed opportunity to affirm gender diversity and foster belonging for transgender and gender-nonconforming individuals. In the context of environmental justice, which is inherently intersectional such omissions risk perpetuating exclusion and undermining credibility. Moving forward, organizations must recognize that inclusive communication is not merely symbolic but foundational to equity. Pronouns should be normalized across staff and board profiles, paired with other visible signals of justice, and integrated into broader strategies for diversity and inclusion. These steps can strengthen trust, align organizational values with practice, and advance the creation of spaces where all individuals feel respected and represented.

This study has several limitations. This study focused on environmental organizations in a single U.S. region, which may limit generalizability to other geographic or cultural contexts. The analysis was limited to publicly available website content and only whether pronouns were included directly after a person’s naming. Websites can change rapidly and may not fully reflect internal organizational practices or commitments to inclusivity. Additionally, some organizations may incorporate pronouns into paragraph-length biographies of staff and pronouns but fail to list them directly after an individual’s name. Future research could consider pronoun usage in other areas of the website beyond the listing of staff and board members or incorporate interviews, surveys, or cross-national comparisons to provide a more comprehensive understanding of how organizations signal gender inclusivity online.