This month I have some submissions that are quite good and it is going to be difficult for me to put together something worthy to stand next to them. Here they are-

This little essay is dedicated to my memories of Mike Koehle, previous essayist, who pinned the label "Friend" on me long before I had even begun to "earn" such a privilege. I wear that label with love and pride.

Labelling art is for me both a help and a hindrance. It points me in the right direction when I’m searching out music for instance, but it also limits my discovery by the confines of the labelling process. My greatest love is classical music (with wide parameters) but it’s not my only love by any means, and some of my favourite music has been discovered quite accidentally and falls under a very different classification altogether, one I may never have explored because the label was off-putting in some way.

Then there is the labelling of people; individuals or groups. This kind of labelling seems to me like a prison or a garden cloche. No-one grows a seedling under glass and then just leaves it there to end up hunched and twisted in its struggle to reach the sun. Who I am today may not be who I am tomorrow, almost certainly not next year, owing to experience and, hopefully, the growth process. I won't consciously accept labels any more as I have done in the past, even if they appear appropriate at the time. And there are the blinkered labels that lead to “isms” such as sexism, racism, ageism which, even if noted and unacceptable to the labellee, forces them into a mould that distorts their experience and growth. The frustration and resentment thus occasioned is damaging to the individual and to the world that presumes to label them.

Labelling can also be misleadingly attractive. We can label ourselves, or others, in such a way (celebrity, star, guru, medium) that leads others down the path of disillusionment and, probably, pain. Or even worse, the dangerous path of no disillusionment, just acceptance of and belief in a huge lie. Labelling ourselves, however innocently, can also slam shut the other doors of possibility and freedom we are supposed to explore and, hence, one-dimensionalise us.

No-one should accept, consciously at least, the labels that others may stick on us to compartmentilise us for their own comfort and convenience. This is too easily done with children whose growth may be stunted or, at best, delayed by being labelled, and the labels applied to children are very often cruel in nature. Telling someone often enough that they are stupid, for instance, will eventually sink in deeply and be believed. Tell it to a child and the child will become certain of it and expect to be stupid.

And yet there is, as always, the exception that proves the rule. I could most dearly wish that everyone would wear one label, prominently for all to see.

Gordon's commitment to family was demonstrated first and foremost by his years of care for his mother, but he shared himself with all of us. The gifts he gave me were gifts of himself. He always had time for a smile, a kind word, a game of cards, or a conversation about politics. Once I was old enough to vote, we talked after nearly every election-- usually commiserating-- too infrequently celebrating, most recently with Gordon taking comfort and pride in the Senators from North Dakota. When my daughter joined my family, Gordon welcomed her completely by giving his patented tour of North Dakota including the Big Rock, which she still talks about, taking us to the Medora Musical and introducing us to Theodore Roosevelt National Park. (If you haven't camped in this Park, you have missed a great experience.)

Gordon was a man of deep faith, a faith which he lived. When I visited Gordon in the hospital, he talked about the many church members that had visited him. I knew he held leadership positions in his church, these visits made clear to me that what was truly important to him was not the title or the building but the people with whom he worshiped.

Gordon had a business card, a gift, which labeled him simply "volunteer". Gordon's life was not one which many would label as "easy". But Gordon had a special ability to see what was positive in his life, and he would then work to share what he had with others. Whether it was giving rides to people who could not drive, helping to preserve the history of North Dakota, or insuring that the community had a high quality library for folks who loved to read as much as he did, Gordon gave to his community. In his service to others, Gordon didn't judge people by what they look like, by how old or young they are, by their race, by their religion, or by how far they got in school. He just worked to make their lives better. Gordon didn't spend time trying to figure out who was his neighbor, he looked to see who he could be neighbor to.

Gordon's service to family, church, and community made this world a better place. I will miss him. I love you Uncle Gordon.

-Ann Cofell, Gordon's neice

What about those labels? They certainly do help us in discussions when we want to make broad generalizations and relate someone or something to a time, place or thing. But they can also become a roadblock when they cause us to think that a label is all that someone or something is, to see only one facet of what may be a sparkling jewel.