Phone notifications.  This is how I keep up with the world.  I scroll through tons of notifications on my phone every day.  I skim the blurbs and decide which ones I want to read in depth and which ones just warrant the blurb.  And I get notifications of all kinds – from breaking news to weird facts.  Last week I saw a blurb on my phone that caused me to actually stop and stare at my phone.  “Janelle Monae comes out as pansexual.”  Uh…my first thought was who the heck is Janelle Monae?  (One of many things I admit to being ignorant about.)  My second thought was, why do we care about her coming out?  But what made me click on the article was the term pansexual.  I seriously had no clue what that phrase was about and felt the need to find out.  I’m not going to go into a lot of detail because this isn’t that kind of blog, but after reading about it and running a search to read even more I had only one question.  Do we really need another term to describe a person’s sexuality?  But that’s not what prompted me to write.  Honestly, I kind of laughed and said whatever.  (Yes, I know that the word ‘whatever’ is considered a poor word choice, but I like it.  Most of the time I really do mean it.  It suits the way I feel some times.  But I digress.)

I decided to write because I saw a promo on Netflix for their latest original, “The Rachel Divide,” which is the story of Rachel Dolezal.  Quick reminder if you don’t remember the name.  Rachel Dolezal was the head of the NAACP chapter in Spokane, Washington who lied about being black when she was born a white woman.  She claimed that she identified as black.  Back to the Netflix promo, the clip shows her talking to the camera and saying that she identifies as transracial.  Transracial.  Another new word but this one didn’t necessitate an internet search for a definition.  Finally, the point of what pushed me off the ledge this time.  More labels.  Are you kidding me?  We need more labels about as much as we need more reality television.

Not that labels are inherently wrong.  We have to describe each other on occasion and labels help us to do that.  I just feel like we’ve taken it a step too far.  It’s not necessary to label every single thing that makes us who we are as a person.  And I know that’s very easy for me to say because I’m a white, heterosexual woman.  Acceptable labels that don’t cause much controversy.  And, yes it is white privilege that lets me say we should just stop with the labels.  I won’t deny any of that.  I will argue that that doesn’t make me wrong.  At some point we need to stop keeping our focus on the labels themselves and focus on the individual.  I can’t be the only person who’s tired of being classified by some list of check boxes.

I get there’s a certain amount of comfort in those labels.  They give us a sense of belonging to a group or community.  It helps us feel normal and gives us something to hold onto in a very mixed up world.  The truth is there is no such thing as normal other than what we want it to be.  Everyone is normal in their own way.  Everyone defines normal differently.  The idea that there is some standard definition of normal is flawed.  It will never exist.  Normal, and the labels that go with it, is in the eye of the beholder.  And while I can empathize with the comfort factor, more often I feel like the labels we use to define ourselves keep us locked in a box.  It’s like being trapped in a small room with just a small window to view the world.  We should want more than this limited view of ourselves.

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Talking in circles – I lost my debit card a few days ago.  First time that has ever happened to me.  Probably because it’s as much a part of me as my phone or tablet.  I knew pretty quickly it was gone.  I did what everyone does and tore apart my car, the living room couch and every piece of dirty clothing in the hamper.  Gone.  Then I did what every sane person has done in the same situation.  I logged in to my account to verify no odd purchases and then called the after hours number for a lost debit card.  And that’s when the real trouble started.

After going through all the hoops to verify my identity, the first thing he asked me for was the card number or at least the last four digits of the card I needed to have cancelled.  I explained that since I didn’t have the card, I couldn’t give him the number.  He then wanted to know if I had a picture of my card on my phone that I could check.  Umm…no?  I’m not keeping a picture of my debit card on a phone that always has the Bluetooth on and connects to a public cellular network.  Is he nuts?  He then asked me if I had my credit card (same bank) and if I read him that number then he’d know which card to cancel.  No I don’t have my credit card available.  My last argument with the bank resulted in me crushing that card in the shredder and since it’s not used, I haven’t replaced it.  (Don’t ask.)  At this point we are both getting desperate to end this phone call.  He asks if I have a receipt that I can read the last 4-digits from.  Well no, those go in the shredder too.  Hello??  Am I the only paranoid person to lose a debit card?  Then I remember that I’m logged in to my account on the laptop. The one sitting in front of me on the coffee table.  Guess what?  Card numbers are listed on your account page.  Who knew?