Labels Are Meant To Define Products, Not People

Judging comes naturally.
Before you even allow someone to say hi, you already have a preconceived notion of who they are.
If they’re wearing non-matching socks, they have a hap-hazard, frazzled personality.

Maybe they have socks and sandals on at the same time, making them an automatic “snowbird” (a northerner so to speak).
Or if they come strutting over in a suit and tie, they seem to have everything “together.” It’s amazing how holding a briefcase instead of a Jansport backpack can make you look that much more professional.

But where do these narrow-minded thoughts come from? How can we put labels on every single thing that enters our vision?
I guess our opinionated freedom of speech is acceptable. It is foolish, but accepted as the norm because we all harvest a perspective that differs from the next person.

My thoughts on love, sexuality, politics, religion and everything else for that matter is somewhat controversial.
I guess being an equal-opportunity lover is shameful. The fact that I am neither religious nor politically passionate is my downfall. It’s a pity that every move I make has to be closely observed and judged. I have to be afraid of winding up on “Juicy Campus” or of becoming the latest topic of gossip.

Hypocritically, I claim to live in the present and forget the past.

I say I don’t care what others say, but everyone knows that on some level everyone cares.
That is probably the very reason that there are mirrors in every bathroom and that our reflection can be seen at every turn.
The saddest thing is that I subconsciously clutch my purse every time I walk down 7th street in Ybor, but I feel completely comfortable and safe as I
walk through the International Mall. Trust has somehow escaped me.

I try to preach equality and encourage calm approaches to life, but I manage to possess distrust for strangers. I admit to judging, but it took me about two decades to be able to.
I consider it a twelve-step process to admitting my flaws, my downfalls as a human being.

Even as a student here at UT, I attest to judging the “filthy rich.” Outsiders and state school students assume that all private school students are rich and snobby.

I however, make no attempt to dissuade such thoughts. I just nod and smile, while slipping in the fact that I am an exception to the theory.
How I got to this point, I have no idea.
I just go on living my life in ignorance. I could be the “walking contradiction” that I constantly poke fun at.
I joke about how I don’t fulfill the Asian stereotypes. I claim to be an epic failure of an Asian because I don’t like sushi, I am terrible at math and I can’t play a string instrument.

Upon mentioning such a humorous list, I usually get a response of laughter and smiles. But the one thing I tend to overlook is that I just placed a crooked label on myself.
I just placed an outrageous stereotype on my culture. I guess it could be an indirect self-loathing aspect of my personality.

Whatever it is, having such a personal revelation, I am determined to reduce the amount of judging that goes on in my head. Key word being “reduce,” because I am realistic.
I understand that it’s a natural response to create a reaction to someone in a matter of seconds. Almost as a trained reaction of the mind — very zombie-like. It may be wishful thinking to want to make myself more accepting, but it’s all a matter of overriding the system in my head.
I must allow myself to say “hi” and shake someone’s hand before I formulate an idea of who they are.

I have been taught that first impressions are lasting ones.
Judgments come and go as they please, and whether they are ethically or physically judgmental, they are like a mental stamp of opinions.

Like they say, “Labels are for soup cans, not people.”

Narissa Imprasert can be reached at nimprasert@spartans.ut.edu.