Leading Consciously Reflection #25

 

At a recent professional workshop, my assigned partner and I discussed what we thought kept people from achieving the workplace – and life -- they desired. We agreed on:

• Fear of… the unknown, offending people, loss of others’ respect
• Attachments to… our beliefs, our habits, people who treat us poorly
• Beliefs about… what we can or cannot do, threats to our psychological safety, what motivates others, causes of today’s polarization

And then he proposed “labels” as another impediment.

In a second, our exchange took a serious turn, with me trying to retain some lightheartedness while also internally debating whether I should spoil the moment by telling him what I really thought.

Since I was one of about five Black people in a room of about 100 mostly White people, I decided I couldn’t let it go.

Are labels ALWAYS a problem?

“It’s interesting about labels,” I ventured. “On the one hand, labels that become stereotypes definitely have a harmful effect. When we talk to people and all we can see is the stereotype of how they present themselves, rather than their individuality, we’re doing them and ourselves a disservice. So I can agree with you on that.”

I saw the expression on his face change, and I suspected that he knew I was shifting from lightheartedness to serious analysis. But I had started the train of thought and couldn’t think of a reason to stop.

I continued, “The problem with saying that labels are the problem is that the human brain requires labels for us to even function.” I pointed to a chair and said, “it’s important that we know this is a chair and not the floor.” At this point, he was barely moving and -- in my imagination -- wary of what I was going to say next.

“People have no problem with labels when it comes to gender. They think it important to distinguish male and female. Those are regarded as useful distinctions. Now the more recent addition of nonbinary is giving some people heartburn, but that’s only in the last few years.”

I couldn’t read his expression but at this point I was in it.

“When it comes to race and ethnicity, that’s when people really start talking about not labelling people.  And I think it’s negative stereotypes that’s the problem, not the labels themselves.”     

I debated whether I should explain further and decided not to. I wanted to hear a response before I went further. 

But the facilitator called us back into the full group and I decided to let it go. I had said enough.

At the next exercise we were paired with different people and I never talked with him again.

Imagine a world with labels, yet no stereotypes

Yet the conversation has stayed on my mind. What I didn’t get to say was that I long for a world we where we can as easily discuss racial/cultural differences as we can discuss differences in pieces of furniture, without all of the heavy overlay of negative stereotypes, guilt, and exclusion.

Instead, I’m left with the uneasy feeling that I squashed what to him was an important distinction. He was proud that he had identified labels as an impediment to harmony in the workplace, and here I was saying that I disagreed without having a chance to clarify my meaning or explore his intention.

When do labels hurt? When do they help?

Still uneasy about the conversation, I thought about the disadvantages and advantages of labels when applied to people.

Disadvantages:

1. If the label applies to a person classified as having a disability or disorder, we run the risk of holding low expectations for the person and dampening their potential.
2. Labels may lead to stereotyping and overgeneralizing, without recognizing individuals’ unique abilities and strengths. In the eyes of the beholder, the person becomes the label.
3. People may regard their label as a self-fulfilling prophecy and act out according to its stereotype. As a child I was regarded as “outspoken.” I remember inappropriately sounding off to adults, because that’s what they expected from me.
4. Labels generally are applied to individuals without consideration for the environment that produces them. The parents of a young relative of mine switched him from a standard public classroom to another setting specializing in individualized learning. He was classified as “struggling” in the first classroom and high IQ in the second.

 Advantages:

1. Labels help ensure equity. We cannot know if people with a certain characteristic are being disadvantaged or privileged unless we have labels to distinguish them. In nonprofit and government organizations, funding actually depends on labels.
2. Labels make it easy for professionals to talk to one another about subtle nuances. When laypeople hear professionals talk, they often dismiss it as simply jargon. But the nuances serve a purpose and deepen understanding. We all have heard the dangers of misdiagnoses of illnesses.
3. Labels enable people to understand those different from themselves more deeply. Biracial children are likely to have different societal pressures than those raised in a single racial or ethnic group. They are more likely to feel understood by someone who knows this distinction versus those who do not.

I’m still somewhat frustrated I did not pursue a chance to hear my workshop partner’s response to my objections to “labels.” In my heart of hearts, I will admit that I hear “no labels” as a synonym for colorblindness, which obliterates my culture. I would have just told him that. It wouldn’t have meant his objections to labels was wrong – rather that they needed to be qualified.

I wrote about the harm of “colorblindness” attitudes in [Am I supposed to be colorblind or not, (#17)] and [Why colorblindness is racism, (#26)]. 

When and how to use labels?

So when are labels useful and when not when describing people? In my experience, labels are useful when they are understood as flexible characterizations for a specific purpose, rather than fixed qualities to negatively stereotype people. 

In a blog post, I wrote about the term “disabled” as preferred by some members of the disabled community, and objected to by others. One person objecting to the term said this:

I’m more than my Disabilities, and even with my Disabilities, I’m still able to function with or without accommodations. To me, disabled means “non-functioning,” so Disabled Person identifies me as a person who does not function and ignores all other aspects of who I am: Husband, stepfather, business owner, martial artist, guitar player, advocate, etc.

Another person explained why the term “disabled” acknowledges her reality while “differently abled” was insulting:

And where the f* was my different ability when I was at an appointment yesterday, and because of a snowstorm I couldn’t leave as soon as I was done and hop on a public transit to head home….

Where is it when I’m at a higher risk of being stuck in a building if there’s an emergency because I practically have no way to take the stairs? As you may be able to tell, I really can’t stand that term.

Acknowledging the reality of my disability doesn't mean I can't bring to light my abilities and capabilities too. So I find the argument that differently abled takes focus away from my inabilities and puts it on my abilities, as if that's a good thing, invalidating.

Bottom line: When using labels to describe a person, use the labels they prefer and that frees them to be themselves.

Here are a few of the terms I generally embrace when applied to me: Black, Woman, Professor, Coach, Scholar, Elder. Of course, it depends on who says it and what they mean to imply.

And that’s the point, isn’t it?