Recently I watched a YouTube clip of a comedian speaking to college students. During the Q and A, he was asked which community he identified with. The questioner appeared to be referring to race and ethnicity, perhaps because the man is bi-racial, but it could just have easily been any number of different labels that we use to identify each other with.

Today we have more labels for one another than ever: Labels devoted to defining sexuality, gender, politics, spiritual beliefs and so on. This led me to wonder why do we label one another? Why do we want to be labeled? And, how useful is it? The comedian was there to entertain everyone, so what prompts this type of question?

We create labels primarily because we want to intellectually and emotionally make sense of the complexities of a world, we find hard to grasp. We want to put one another neatly into compartments, like cutlery in a drawer, and we also want to know where we fit in the drawer. We like things to be tidy and manageable. It gives us the illusion of control and security by strengthening our sense of identity and belonging within our community. But when compartmentalization is aggressively taken to extremes, we leave no room for any kind of dialogue and authentic connection with others outside of our compartment.

Of course, there are times when labels are necessary when looking for something specific like a doctor, but I feel there are limits as to how helpful excessive labeling is both collectively and individually. Today, ironically, we are keener than ever to emphasize our individuality, our uniqueness, our specific needs and wants, while at the same time the more “pigeon-holing” and stereotype strengthening with labels we create. When you google search “gender fluid” for example, you’re overwhelmed by an avalanche of labels and expressions seeking to categorize and define what the term means which, paradoxically, runs directly counter to the desired notion of the freedom of fluidity. 

Each label that we slap on one another creates an instant download of assumptions, and emotions, that arbitrarily depend on who we are. The most classic example of the limitation of labels is the one predicated upon appearance. Years ago, going through the x-ray machine at Newark, I was called aside by an official who’d found a large screwdriver in my bag. In my haste, I’d grabbed a computer bag from the basement without checking inside. When she asked me if the bag belonged to me, I answered truthfully that I didn’t know who it belonged to and hadn’t checked the contents. All security red flags in a post 9/11 world. I was bracing myself for the consequences of my carelessness, so when she put the screwdriver back, handed me the bag and wished me a safe trip, I was flabbergasted. As a white English woman, I was labeled “safe” purely on sight. A dangerous and absurd notion. 

Politicians, and power brokers, understanding how to use this absurdity only too well, are increasingly stoking our fears by dividing us into “us and them”. A deadly tactic because “not one of us” is the first step toward eroding our collective humanity undermining compassion, connection, and understanding of one another.

So, here’s what I would suggest for a kinder more compassionate world. Let’s not limit ourselves with the over identification with man-made labels. Let’s not miss out on finding a wonderful partner, friend or employee, for example, because we allowed labels to limit our choices in life and at work. And let’s also consider that we don’t want to be limited by labels others impose on us. We are all so much more than that because such labeling doesn’t take into consideration our intrinsic value, who we are at source and our divine connection with the magnificence of the universe. By reassessing our relationship with identity, and labeling, we can truly strengthen our sense of safety, security and gain a greater sense of real belonging. We are all “human” after all and that’s a label we can all agree upon.