I have a problem with labels. I resist being put in a bucket with one label on it. I am more complex than Woman, Mother, Graduate, White, Catholic, Feminist. I’m more than a label.
In my Freshman high school health class, I learned there are three levels of mental impairment: moron, idiot, and imbecile. Really? My grandmother told me that she glued a lock of her hair to the inside of Uncle Ken’s baby bonnet because she didn’t want anyone to think he was a moron. She explained that morons lacked hair and didn’t speak, just like Uncle Ken until he was almost three years old. (This by the way, made me laugh out loud, given Uncle Ken has George Clooney good looks and grace, along with a successful engineering career and a beautiful family.)