In A Box

They put me in a labeled box and nailed it shut.

Fighting will not free me.  Rescue is impossible.  Only my captors can liberate me.  They made the box according to their self-made blueprint. They are the ones who stuck me in it.  I think it makes them feel safer.  It makes their life easier.  My crime is simple; I am not one of them.  And there is only one way out – become one of them.

But even that act will not set me free.  If I become like my captors, then I fall victim to another gang who will imprison me because I am not like them.  No matter what I choose, I am not free to be me – at least not without fear of someone sealing me in a labeled box.  There are too many of them – the boxes with labels.

What is a man to do?  Or a woman?  Or a democratic, a Muslim, a black, the handicapped, a CEO, an addict, an atheist, a genXer?

A single idea, word, act, or belief cannot be the only criteria for who we are.  We are much too complex and changing for that method.  It would seem obvious that labeling is extremely inaccurate, if not impossible.  But our only solution seems to be to multiply the act.

We create labeled boxes within labeled boxes.  Americans are liberal, conservative, progressive, Northerners, Southerners, redneck, trash, white collar, and a host more.  Protestant Christians, already double labeled and boxed, seek to label and imprison themselves further: evangelical, contemporary, emerging, organic, traditional, etc. 

And what do these labels mean?  What makes someone an extremist, a radical, nominal, or average?  Who creates the final definition and commissions its use?

Why are we so eager to lock a developing human being into a labeled box?

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