I've heard that question being asked for many years by many people. My niece asked me that question when she was in high school. That was the only time I decided to answer that question for someone. She asked me, "Why do people have to call me the light skinned girl or the white girl? Why can't they just call me by name?" I explained to her that labels are nothing more than descriptions. It's an adjective. It's up to you how you handle that description being made of you.
I'll give you an example of why I've used labels on people currently and in the past.
Did you know Mike's wife just had twins?
What Mike?
You know, big Mike.
You mean Baltimore Mike?
No, that's drop out Mike.
You know who I mean. Big 6 foot Mike.
You mean basketball Mike?
No, not crazy leg Mike. You know, tall Mike.
Oh you mean white Mike?
No, black Mike.
You mean dead eye Mike?
No, broke Mike.
Oh you mean big, black, tall, broke Mike from south east DC?
Yeah, him.
If I don't label you with a description, how can I identify you? What if someone walked up to you and began a conversation on a subject you had no interest in or knowledge about? What if someone introduced you to someone else and all they could talk about was gay people? Then your question is why is that the only thing you can talk about? Then your friend breaks in and says, "Oh my gosh, you misunderstood me. I said she was a thespian, not a lesbian."
You can create you own label for yourself or let others label you. I'm a black woman. I'm an American black woman. I'm a college educated, middle class American black woman.
Or you might not like the label others give you. You might find the label someone else gives an insulting one. So that means you flip the script and re-label yourself.
The other side on the coin is when people tag you with nasty hurtful labels. That has the purpose of boasting the ego of the name caller. You're just the available victim.
I had that attempted on me practically all my life, especially in school. Starting from kindergarten through 12th grade (5 different schools), kids have teased me about my name, my height, my glasses and style of clothes. I was the tallest kid in my classes. I was taller than quite a few teachers too. To be honest, I didn't care about the name itself. I was embarrassed about the fact a group of kids felt they had something over me. I was made to feel like an outsider. When I walked by, everyone would laugh as if on an inside secret against me. That's the part I hated. That made me hate myself. But I did learn a valuable lesson on the subject and I took my power back. I stopped holding my head down when someone called me a bad name. I'd smile and say hi back as if nothing's wrong. It took the air out of many balloons when I gave no negative reaction. I was polite back as if we were great friends. I also realized, that I wasn't the only one in school with a crazy label. In my high school, we had "Puss Head (his head was shaped like a pimple that was ready to pop), Thang face (because she had so many thangs on her face), Swamp (her green eyes looked like swamp water), Fats ( he was fat), Doo doo (he was teased and disliked his real name Adam), Foots (he had really big feet), and many others I can't remember now.
I learned to build my tolerance of my ignorant and stupid classmates. I also learned how to dish it too. I was then respected in 12th grade, after being teased all those years. I stopped being the loner and then had people I could call my friends.
My mom found out in my senior year that I was called dirty names. She was very upset. She wanted to go up to the school and set a few people straight. I calmed her down and told her Its a funny name that I laugh at. It doesn't bother me. My mom put her hands on her hips and tucked in her lips and declared no one on this planet is going to call my child a nasty name. I told her if you get involved, you'll screw things up for me. Before 12th grade, no one knew me. I was ignored. I was too shy to talk to people. I had no idea how to start a conversation. I was socially inept. My new stupid nickname now adds me to the list of other students with descriptive nicknames. I feel included. Strangely enough, I became popular. People began walking up to me to ask what was my real name? No one asked that before. I then pulled my grades up to honor roll because then I wasn't scared to show how smart I was. I wasn't afraid to raise my hand and most of all, I wasn't as scared to speak up for myself. I got my reward for that when I got asked to join a group of people for lunch. JACKPOT!
I now appreciate my height, my weight, and most of all myself . Instead of people teasing me, people compliment me.
At my current age of 38 years old, no one can tease me about anything any more. Name calling rolls off my back. I can now identify with my younger relatives about being teased about something and I teach them my lessons, which in turn helps them learn their own lessons.
LESSONS LEARNED:
- It's not what you call me, it's what I answer to
- I am the best example of how the world is supposed to treat me
- If someone calls you a scumbag and you believe it, everyone else will believe it too
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