Rejecting Labels - Even the Nice Ones

For every "us," there is an equal and opposite "them."
 
Many people have been given a negative label at some point.  It is enticing to spin those labels into positives - rebranding the pejoratives, whether by asking people to use another, nicer word or by changing views toward that word, or by finding a community of nice people with the same label.

And it feels good because it makes us happy in a way that gives us a team while answering our detractors.  We've won them over by outnumbering them!  Look at us being better than that!  And it's no wonder Twitter profiles and ads love to accumulate labels, from the nauseating box-ticking of "You're a mother, daughter, wife, CEO, politician, and lover of bath salts" (for advertising a thing, possibly bath salts) to "Nerd.  Athlete.  Bacon.  Sarcasm.  Love.  Bath salts" (for advertising oneself).

But in so doing, we unwittingly (or wittingly) embrace the most common label of all time - "us."  And each new "us" makes a "them."

Identity politics, many strains of religion, and any subculture to which things can be marketed - whether for monetary or sociopolitical profit - encourage people to see themselves in several "us" circles.  Every one we draw says something about us - and them.

It's not that every circle comes with a fence.  But to collect loads of things to say that you are, even as it makes it easier for people to place you, makes it harder for you to place them.  The more country borders, the more times you're stopped at customs, and the more has to be translated to understand anybody other than yourself.

So my exhortation is to stop finding meaning in circles, in identities, in labels.  If you want to be more than the sum of your parts, celebrate your parts less and your sum more.  Granted, it hurts to refuse easily available labels.  It hurts to be skeptical of an "us" after being a "them" for so long.  But refusing offered labels gives the freedom to build bridges to anyone, anywhere.  I have done far more things in my life by not wasting resources proving my identity in those things.

We are humans, flawed beings, trying to live to the truth we're aware of so far.  We need grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love.  That is my identity and your identity and "them"'s identity.  Anything else unites some at the expense of others.

And if your "us" can't bring "them" in, because it's an attribute they can't possess or the barrier to entry is unrealistic, then you have chosen division and unity at the same time.  You may enjoy the benefits of an identity-based cloister, but make no mistake - it is a cloister, a circle around you and yours that implies a them and theirs who are in some way different.

The only way to avoid this is to refuse the benefits of labels.  The idea sounds foreign, but it liberates like few things can.  Let's just be people, putting our resources into doing things instead of declaring affiliations.

Why do you need to trumpet who you're standing with?  You're standing.  That's enough for me.  Is it enough for you?

BBC: Thank you from an American

I'm an American, and I wouldn't be where I am today without the wonderful content of the BBC.  While I'm insufficiently versed in UK politics to know all that's going on, I do know that the death of the BBC would be the death of a huge part of me.  And if there's any reason at all to save it, then the UK is insane not to save it.  I realise I don't pay the licence fee, but I've been willing for years to pay it.  I wish I could opt out of paying for US public television, which is currently rubbish, and pay for yours across the pond, which is excellent.

A Little Background

I was raised partly on British comedy, or at least what made it over here pre-Internet.  Various bits of Monty Python, Blackadder, Red Dwarf, and the perennially shown Are You Being Served? and Keeping Up Appearances.  These were a start, but they didn't influence me much at the time.  It wasn't until a family holiday in 2000, in a B&B where I got my own room with television, that I fell in love with UK television.  I saw what turned out to be the second-ever episode of Baddiel and Skinner Unplanned and a random episode of They Think It's All Over, and I was hooked.  Outside feeble attempts like an umpteenth revival of Hollywood Squares, the comedy panel show had disappeared from US television, and as a 14-year-old taking all this in, I was astounded at what the format (or in Baddiel and Skinner's case, the unformat) could do - just loads of funny people having fun.

6 years later, the guy who sat next to me in law school showed me Mitchell and Webb's "Are We the Baddies?" sketch.  A few months after that, I started finding more Mitchell and Webb clips and falling in love with their comedy.  What I didn't understand just then is how much I needed it.  Law school revealed a number of things about my 21-year-old self that I hadn't been ready to deal with, and law school's rough enough as it is, so huge parts of my life went grey or black.  I don't remember them too well, mainly because they're not worth remembering in comparison.

But the humour was there, and it gave me a world to explore and a satirical framework in which to throw away a lot of what I was going through.  Brits are excellent at taking the piss, and I frankly had a lot of it that needed to be taken away.  My life would have been so much darker without British comedy in particular, and I'm not sure I would have made it through law school without Mock the Week, That Mitchell and Webb Look, and other shows.

Phase 2

When I finally got a job, doing some law stuff online/from home, my health went weird and I couldn't control my sleep well.  This left me up at all odd hours with a major need for something stimulating to make it through the hours of darkness and dullness.  Enter Lauren Laverne, who informed me of the BBC IPlayer for the first time.  Now, at the very least, I could have BBC radio to get through the night (I'm in Seattle, so her show is on 2 to 5 AM here).

Normally I loathe radio, at least commercial radio.  But Lauren was and is different.  The range of songs played, her off-the-charts (pun intended) music knowledge, and her manner not only on the show but in tweeting with me, the Twitter-active, effusive listener from Seattle, drew me in deeper.  Within the first few months, I was on BBC 6Music twice, once for Biorhythms (Nemone read my stuff out) and once for Memory Tapes with Lauren.  I've saved that part of the broadcast and still listen to it occasionally, as it's one of the major highlights of my life.  And both on-air and off-air Lauren has been exceptionally kind to me.  There is absolutely no reason someone of her professional standing ought to be so kind, but she is anyway.  And my social media interactions with other BBC figures has been similar.

Giving Back

As I've said, I gladly would have paid a licence fee this whole time, broke as I've been throughout a lot of it, for the value I've gotten from the BBC.  So imagine my delight when, 2 years ago, Comic Relief had a #twittermillion grassroots fundraising campaign for Red Nose Day.  You could join a celebrity's team and they'd promote whatever it was you were doing in the hopes that people would give.

 I signed up for Lauren's team before she announced exactly what it was.  When I found out it was a charity thing, I decided to finally produce my comedy sketches that I'd been making at the nudging of Katherine Jakeways, writer of BBC 4's Sony-nominated North by Northamptonshire and star in things like Horrible Histories and The Armstrong and Miller Show and who, like Lauren, had been communicative and kind to me for no reason other than being a wonderful person.  So I put things together in a 15-minute programme that has me rapping, beatboxing, and namedropping Only Connect.

But Comic Relief rules said they "weren't allowed to solicit funds from abroad," which looked like it would nix my involvement.  But I, for all the UK had given me, wasn't going to take no for an answer, so I put a UK friend in my sketch show, not just because I needed a British person for one sketch but because he could be the address I used to post the show.  While I raised little outside my own family, Lauren tweeted my efforts often and Kirstie Allsopp retweeted once - efforts for which I am always thankful.  And again, what other country's stars do this sort of thing for random people?

The one donation outside people I already knew responded to Lauren's tweet.  She's from the UK but lived in Switzerland at the time.  She missed the UK as a physical home; I missed it as an emotional home.  So we became very close friends, and she is one of several friends I have made through love of BBC 6Music and UK programmes in general.  When I get the money, my first long vacation will be to the UK, where I hope to meet all the friends I've made and thank Lauren and her BBC crew in person for all they've done for me.  Yes, I'm willing to spend about 9 years of licence fees on the round trip across the pond to say "thank you" - because they deserve it.

All of This Is To Say...

I owe so many good things in my life - getting through hardships, making friends, and stretching myself into comedy writing - to the efforts of UK television and radio, most of which has been from the BBC.  The value I've received from you across the pond is immeasurable, and I don't want to imagine my life without it.  If you don't understand what BBC culture has done for your life, then you haven't engaged in it enough, because any one of you can get what I've had for much less effort.  The 6Music community in particular is the most welcoming social community I've ever been a part of, and now that I have a normal job I'm not up at 2 AM to be part of Lauren's show.  I miss it constantly, and to think even for a second that it could disappear gets me choked up.

The idea of "government programming" is usually a terrifying thought, but the BBC has been adept at commissioning comedies that satirise everything, including the BBC.  As a nation, please cherish what that means - a government that is willing to pay people to make fun of it.  Please understand, from a country whose federal government takes itself way too seriously, how valuable that is for preserving your country.  It's unthinkable in totalitarian states and suspicious in most others.  But the current is too strong in the UK to wipe that away completely, and having public broadcasting is key to preserving it.  Mock the Week wouldn't be as culturally relevant coming from Channel 4; the point is that it's on government funds while satirising government.  You need to hold on to that ethos, because if you let it go, I assure you it won't come back.

 I know this is a testimonial at heart.  I know I'm not in a position to see both sides.  But please, please, please consider very carefully what the BBC means for the UK when it's running right.  Maybe it needs some reforms; most organisations do.  But the BBC is as unique and irreplaceable as the wonderful people who have made years of vital programming.  From the bottom of my heart, I thank the BBC for its role in my life.  I hope it's had a role in yours too.