LABELS

I hate sticky labels. Well, actually I don’t mind the ones that have the special coating that allow me to peel them off in one pull of thumbnail and forefinger. Otherwise, I believe labels are manufactured in the pit of Hades. Dante missed one level in his Inferno; it is the one whose tenants are consigned forever to remove labels and price tags from jars, vases, and inexpensive collectibles. The labels are affixed with glue meant to stick eternally, and because it is hell, of course there is no water to act as a soluble. If those folk never cussed upon earth, they do now.

Product labels are hard to remove; much more difficult are the labels we affix to others and ourselves. One of the most enlightening and humorous books my husband and I have read in recent years is Look Me in the Eye, by John Elder Robison. While he was growing up, people mistook his affect and strange ways of interacting. He writes,

Everyone thought they understood my behavior. They thought it was simple: I was just no good.

“Nobody trusts a man who won’t look them in the eye.”

“You look like a criminal.”

“Sociopath and “psycho” were two of the most common field diagnoses for my look and expression. I heard it all the time: “I’ve read about people like you. They have no expression because they have no feeling. Some of the worst murderers in history were sociopaths.”

I came to believe what people said about me, because so many said the same thing, and the realization that I was defective hurt.

Eventually, Robison realized that was he not a sociopath, but that he had a special (and not bad) way of being human. He was able to peel off that old label and receive a new, informative one of “Asperger’s,” a type of autism. Now rather than feeling shame, he was freed to enjoy his uniqueness. Understanding that he was an Aspergian gave him a reference point to adjust some behaviors so that he could relate more effectively. It also furnished a position from which he could explain his ways to other people. He taught me to stop assuming that a person who won’t look me in the eye or does not respond to my “good morning,” is shifty, cold, or hung over.

In fact, Robison’s story caused me to wonder about my other labels for people I meet casually or see on the news. Why do I label them when I know nothing about what goes on in hearts hidden beneath Botox, tattoos, or three piece suits? True, sometimes labels serve as useful identifiers for certain behaviors: he is a hero because he saved the drowning child; she is a criminal because she robbed the store. Jesus explained such appropriate labeling this way, “Every tree is known by its own fruit… A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil.” However, Jesus says this in the context of the Sermon on the Mount, and he first warns against judgmentalism,

Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the plank in your own eye? How can you say, ‘Brother, let me remove the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the plank that is in your own eye? Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck that is in your brother’s eye.

In other words, any business of labeling starts with examining the tags that are stuck on me. What labels have people branded me with that are not who I genuinely am, but that still cling to me and cause me shame or anger? What labels have I slapped on myself that restrict my liberty to develop in new ways, or conversely, that excuse poor behavior? Peeling off these labels may be painstaking, with a spiritual fingernail or two breaking in the process. But the freedom is worth it. John Elder Robison would agree.