A driver walks into the dish pit, steaming. Man, that customer up front, he says. Walked funny, talked funny. Ordered an "Eks-Ell Hand-Tossed Build-Your-Own Pizza with no additional toppings" instead of an "extra large cheese". Didn't make eye contact during the whole ordeal. Said "thank you" after a little too long a pause, with a stunted little wave. At this last complaint, one of the men at the sink piped up, barely turning:
"Oh, that guy, with the hat, right? Yeah, I think he's autistic or something."
Instantly the first driver's face softened. You could see it in real time, how he was scrolling back through his memory, re-evaluating every moment. Somehow this one little word, one that didn't really supply any new information, changed everything.
"Yeah, I suppose."
That little word made another's differences no less intelligible, but more tenable.
A mother laughs at her sissy son, until she reintroduces herself as a "trans girl". A teacher grades harshly and prescriptively until she reads an article about "AAVE speakers". Someone can't stand when her lover doesn't respond immediately until they read a corny infographic about "ADHD", mocks a childhood friend for his virginity until they're introduced to "aromantics" and "asexuals", doesn't understand a trans man until he uses the words "autismgender" and "kinnie" and "traumatized". Someone doesn't understand or forgive themselves until they use words to describe their neurotype, their race, their gender, their sexuality-- but also their behavior, their little quirks, things as small as "picky eater".
It's not that there's an ontological barrier between those who fit a label and those who don't. It's there so others have permission to give the label user grace.
And the next obvious step is: Why wait for the labels? We just decided they don't represent an actual barrier. Why not be nice to all the sissy sons, even those who aren't "trans girls"? Why not be more open about language as a whole, rather than waiting for a linguist to tell you that it's actually a dialect or a pidgin? Why not give yourself the same grace you might give yourself if you were "traumatized" or "disabled"?
The label was a gift. It was there to help you realize that a difference that someone else needed to change actually didn't, that you would cope if "This person is a trans girl and a picky eater" were etched into the fabric of the universe unrevokably. The best way to use that gift is to extend it, to say: "Even if these things are choices, even if there were conversion therapies that stopped someone from being a trans picky eater, I can mute my own vindictiveness."
Post facto clarity edit: This isn't a defense, it's a theodicy. I'm not trying to justify the use of any particular labels or labels at all, I'm trying to find a satisfying explanation for why I maintain the use of them with nice-enough-but-fundamentally clueless cis people, despite joining in the well-known bemoaning of labels as bad.
...Having reflected on this over the work day, I was kicking myself for not saying this, that's all.
