But what about
when you talk apples and oranges? That’s when the words that
identify them — “apple” and “orange” — become essential. You don’t want
someone to think you’re talking about one fruit when you’re actually talking
about the other one. And just in case anyone can’t differentiate between both
round-ish fruits on sight, there are labels to tell us what we’re looking at in
supermarket produce sections.
Labels bring
order to grocery stores — and to life. Categorization via labels is the crux of
zoology, botany, chemistry, and so many other sciences. In the animal and plant
kingdoms, labeling is an exact science.
But why does
it create so many problems when we apply it to homo sapiens? “I
don’t believe in labels,” some say, as if the very idea of categorization is an
insult to their intelligence and humanity. Although they may not object to
being identified as “black” or “white,” they’ll avoid “gay” and “lesbian” like
the plague.
But what would
“LGBTQ” be without the labels that each letter of the acronym represents? What
would the Pride that we’re currently celebrating be? “Human Pride” wouldn’t
have the same impact or cultural, social, and historical significance as “Gay
Pride” or “LGBTQ Pride,” which is something that the Boston-based organizers of
Straight Pride have completely missed. Labels connect us and describe us, but
they don’t have to define us or limit us to the point that we cease being
anything else.
The trouble
with labels isn’t the words we use but how we use them. “Blonde” isn’t a
problem when it refers strictly to hair color. It becomes one, though, when it
becomes a synonym for “dumb.”
“Black” to
describe a dress is one thing, but attach it to a person, and it can be loaded
with subtext. Labels become dangerous when people use them to separate and
denigrate, when they’re no longer a purely descriptive tool but a way of
rearranging homo sapiens into caste systems.
This is no
more true than when it comes to race, gender, and sexual orientation and
identity — all four of which involve labeling as an agent of both
categorization and oppression. Over the centuries, race has evolved into
something so complex and overlapping, and gender and sexual orientation and
identity are now so fluid and, to an extent, arbitrary that traditional labels
have been rendered virtually meaningless. Meanwhile, labels in general have
taken on even greater significance.
Interracial
coupling has turned black and white into countless shades of brown. The PC
community promoted “biracial” as an alternative to “mulatto” to accommodate the
new normal of race, but as the word broadly describes a spectrum of blended
ethnicities and cultural associations, it almost demands further labeling.
Gender has
branched out from strictly “male” and “female” to encompass “trans,”
“non-binary,” “gender-nonconforming,” “gender fluid,” and a host of other
awkward tags in order to be as inclusive as possible.
Sexual
orientation and identity are no longer just “gay,” “straight,” or “bi.” Many
now identify as “queer” and “sexually fluid” as well as the more specific
“omnisexual,” “pansexual,” and “polysexual.” And if none of those suit, there’s
also “bi-curious,” “demisexual,” “gender-blind,” and “same-gender loving.” The
proliferation of labels may threaten to turn sexual orientation into a
collection of trendy buzzwords, but there are benefits, too.
By adjusting
the way we think about not-“straight” and bringing new words into the mix,
we’ve boosted our battalions. In a sense, coining labels hasn’t divided the
community but strengthened it. Men who are sexually attracted to other men but
don’t think of themselves as “gay,” for whatever reason, are more likely to
feel like they have a safe space within our ranks.
Label critics
often dismiss them as being limiting and suffocating, but the new ones reflect
the ever-changing nature of human nature. Unlike apples and oranges — which are
what they are from when they bloom to when we eat them — people are not static.
We may always be human, but we don’t always wake up feeling like the same
human.
Chaka Khan’s
“I’m Every Woman” and Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” were once
great musical statements of female empowerment, but in 2019, their sentiments
might sound quaint and way too limiting for some. Despite her hyper-awareness
of gender in the title and lyrics of her turn-of-the-millennium hit, Shania
began the video wearing a tuxedo gown, twenty years before Billy Porter did.
I recently
interviewed a famous musician who would rather identify as “alien” than “male”
or “female,” and although they were born female and they’re sexually attracted
to women, they resist the “lesbian” tag. As they see it, we are all just
humans, and we should do away with labels entirely. They only separate us, and
give us weapons to bring each other down.
It’s a lovely
but naive sentiment. Even without labels, we’d still find some other way of
bringing each other down. Homophobes won’t suddenly stop hurling their sling
shots because they are at a loss for words to describe what they hate. Racists
won’t morph into accepting advocates of colorblind.
Unprivileged
minorities won’t cease to be unprivileged minorities if we were to stop
labeling them. It would just become more difficult to talk about it.
Personally, I derive much of my strength and self-awareness from identifying as
“black” and “gay.” I don’t think I would be the same person if I were simply
“human.”
Ultimately,
it’s our choice how we want to self-identify. Bur we live in a world of
communities, and the first step in finding our own communities is to find the
ones with descriptions (i.e., labels) that fit us.
To accept our
differences, we need to be able to talk about them. And we can’t talk about
them without words to indicate those differences. Labels make a complex world
easier to navigate. They provide a semblance of order to the messiness of life.
So it’s time
to let labels off the hook. They’re not holding us back. Those who refuse to
see past them deserve all the credit for that.
SOURCE: QUEERTY
