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My Life As A Labelmaker, Hannah M. Frantz

SURGE

It’s easy to label to people. I find it particularly easy at Gettysburg College. When I assign a label to someone, it’s like it appears in big red letters across their forehead. Sometimes my snap judgment comes from what they’re wearing. Salmon colored pants? FRATERNITY, BRO, PREP. Sometimes it comes from what they say. “Dude that chick’s a femi-nazi.” MISOGYNIST, PRIVILEGED, JERK. My judgment comes from all sorts of different places but the important part is that my initial judgment sticks. It sits there, tattooed on people’s foreheads, staring at me, and it’s the only thing I see from that …