Labels

When you open a jar labeled pickles you expect to get pickles. I have been thinking about human labels and wonder how much they contribute to who we become. From birth we are either the oldest, middle or youngest child in our family. This label comes with its own set of statistics based on years of observation by humans who claim to know what they are talking about.

We are, generally speaking, either male or female, which also comes with another batch of statistics from the learned. For instance, you aren’t supposed to wear pink if you are a boy or play with mud soaked trucks if you are a girl. What would the neighbors think!

Then there is the ethnic label. God forbid if as a child, your best friend happens to be of a different nationality or color than you are. Even worse what if you continue to be best friends through your school years and wind up marrying the person. What would your grandparents think?

As we go through school we acquire many new labels placed on us by teachers and peers. We can be labeled smart, slow, artistic, athletic, studious, class clown, nerd and yes even stupid just to name a few.

How much do labels matter in the scheme of things? From my own experience I believe quite a bit, until you reach the point of looking in your mirror and recognizing who you really are. Anyone can be a pickle in a pickle jar it takes guts to fill the jar with your own unique ingredients!