Labels: What Are We Afraid Of?
As a cultural observer, it never ceases to amaze me, particularly in
the political and religious spheres, how great our need seems to be to
label people. Sometimes we believe that if we can categorize ourselves and
others, we just might be able to figure people out and promote dialogue
between adverse parties. However, it occurs to me that, more often than
not, such labeling results not only in a summation of an individual’s or
a group’s character and beliefs but also a dismissal of those whom we
perceive as "other." Historically it has been the case for
generations that the stances of white, upper class, European/North
American, straight, white men were seen as normative or universal, with
the result that the views of others were just that—Other. In recent
decades people of color, women, GLBTQ folk, and those from the Two-Thirds
World have made their voices and their presence known, with the result
that postmodernity is beginning to recognize that there is neither a grand
meta-narrative nor a universal human person.
Nevertheless, the labeling continues in ways that might appear quite
benign on the surface. For example, whether one is a Christian or not
provides helpful information about one’s belief systems; whether one is
"gay" or "queer" or "supportively straight"
or "homophobic" gives the "heads-up" some of us need
to prepare ourselves for discussion. "Democrats" have one set of
beliefs, Republicans another—and we can anticipate what someone thinks
or how s/he votes based upon which label we can affix to them. I would
submit that this type of labeling says more about those doing the labeling
than those who are labeled, for lurking beneath the label is frequently a
judgment, intended or not, that indicates not only what the labeler stands
for but what kind of threat is posed by the labeled.
Labels say more about "us" than "them." Here’s
how I see it. We need to be "right." There’s only so much
truth to go around; if another’s view contains truth, that means my
truth may be less true. But what are we so afraid of? I would hope that
there is enough truth to go around so that a majority paradigm does not
have to be the only way of seeing things. Isn’t that what happens in a
democracy? Supposedly, but the "thought and label police" do
their jobs exceedingly well in our contemporary world, for people’s
fears give rise to labels that are not just helpful categorizations but
brutal bludgeons. Our labels of others not only summarize and categorize
them but also judge them and dismiss them. If you are a liberal, you must
be in favor of abortion and gay marriage; if you are a conservative, you
must be misogynistic and
homophobic. Behind such labels, however, lurk some basic inhumanity and
a refusal to see the human person as multi-faceted, unique, and
unfinished.
I have witnessed discussions among clergy and laypeople and among
various groups of "Americans" that have left me feeling a bit
ill and afraid for our spiritual integrity. As a result of such
discussions, some people feel excluded and unwelcome, while others appear
rigidly dogmatic and exclusive in their beliefs. But I ask again, what are
we so afraid of? Can I not believe in Christ as the Savior of the world
and yet acknowledge that God and Allah are just as legitimate? Can I not
allow that Buddha and Krishna might be avatars of the Divine without
denigrating the importance of Jesus? Can I not be a patriotic American and
still oppose the war in Iraq or the U.S.’s behavior vis-à-vis other
nations? If I disagree with the resident of the White House does that mean
the FBI should arrive on my doorstep and escort me to their office for
questioning? If I have opinions about Middle Eastern culture does that
make me an automatic racist? Where did the basic democratic right to free
discussion go? Has it been swallowed up in political correctness or
frightened into silence by an authoritarian government?
What if we were to go beyond the labels and actually talk openly about
what we think, whom and what we fear, how far we are willing to go to
protect our rights and our freedoms, and just what constitutes freedom of
religion or true patriotism? We might not solve any of the world’s or
our nation’s problems, but we would certainly know each other better. We
would at least be aware of other beliefs besides our own; we would
possibly entertain the idea that people different from ourselves have
access to truth and goodness and different forms of government and worship
of the Divine. It is fear that precipitates the unthinking labeling,
categorization, and dismissal I’ve been describing; but what we know we
can no longer fear. Knowledge gives strength and the ability to make
informed decisions. It’s when our fears become so big that they engulf
us that we lose the ability to decide important issues that affect
everyone’s destiny.
I say these things not to indict any one group of people, nor to shake
a finger or cast blame or guilt, but merely to stimulate discussion. So
often I feel that these columns go out into a vacuum, for I rarely hear
anything pro or con; but I hope if any of my articles cause people to
think and dialogue and talk back it will be this one, for—at the risk of
sounding alarmist and paranoid—our very lives depend upon our ability to
recreate an open atmosphere for differing viewpoints, opinions, faith
claims, and, yes, even criticisms or harsh words. For at least we will be
thinking and not just relying on uncritical, monolithic truth that helps
no one.
The Rev. Tom Bohache is pastor of the Metropolitan Community Church
of Rehoboth and a doctoral candidate at the Episcopal Divinity School in
Cambridge, Massachusetts. He moderates the "SpiritConnection"
discussion group at the Camp Rehoboth Community Center on Tuesdays at 7:00
p.m.