Well, it took almost eighty years, but it looked like Daddy had finally met his match. He looked in dread as he saw the little VW Beetle pull up into the driveway. Out the car came his nemesis – a pretty, friendly, young lady, who had moved down this way from up North to work. She was his physical therapist.

Daddy was going through rehabilitation at home after having knee surgery. Daddy needed help getting that knee back into shape. The physical therapist was there every other day to help. She and Daddy got along well. But she definitely believed the motto, “If it ain’t hurting, it ain’t helping.” She was helping Daddy increase the mobility in his leg. But it was hurting.

I was visiting while Daddy was having his physical therapy. She was bending his knee further back a little at the time trying to increase his range of motion. Daddy was moaning and groaning, but the therapist continued on with her work. Remember, “If it ain’t hurting, it ain’t helping.”

“You’re hurting me!” Pa cried, as the therapist bent his leg back a little further.

“I know,” she answered. “But we have to keep going if you are going to get movement back in that knee.” So she continued.

“Yankee!” Daddy exclaimed, after she pressed further on the knee. (OK, he actually put an adjective in front of the word, “Yankee.”)

“Redneck.” she replied with a sly grin, not missing a beat, and not even looking up as she continued on with the therapy. I just sat over on the side looking at the scene, trying not to laugh out loud.

The physical therapy continued on for a few more sessions as he improved his mobility. Daddy and the lady physical therapist got along well during the sessions, constantly joking with each other. She did her job well, and Daddy got better.

The physical therapist did have a Northern accent, and was from up North. In his eyes that made her a Yankee. Daddy may have had a Southern accent, and had never lived outside of Sampson County. I suppose in her eyes that made him a Redneck.

A Yankee and a Redneck. I bet you easily had a description of each one in your mind when you read those words. But most of you didn’t know my father, and probably none of you knew the physical therapist. But yet you had a picture in your mind of both. Why? Because of the two labels – Yankee and Redneck.

We all do the labeling thing, and categorize individuals into certain groups every day. We can’t help it, it’s the way our brains are made. We come into contact with many people just about every day. And we are evaluating those people and are deciding how to deal with them, and the impact they are going to have on our lives. It’s impossible to do an in depth investigation on everyone we meet – that salesman, that new neighbor, even that person on TV that is trying to influence you. Our brains just can’t process all that.

So we often make quick judgments about people based on past experience, or on information received about other individuals that we feel that are similar to that person. Then we place them in that group, and give them the label that goes along with that group. The most obvious example in today’s culture is concerning race. Whatever the race or ethnic group, there is the expectation of a certain appearance, behavior, and way of thinking. We often make quick judgments that may end up being completely wrong.

Like those labels that are now imprinted on tee shirts, labels can hang around a long time. That can be true even if it was wrongly given, or are no longer true. It’s often hard to get rid of a label.

He was one of the first great evangelists of the early church. He left the church community in Jerusalem to share the Gospel in far off lands. It has been said that he went west to Greece, and eventually headed east and ended up in India. He made converts to Christianity there, and when missionaries would arrive in India many years later, they would find remnants of those early churches, and evidence of his work there. But while in India, he angered local religious authorities, who martyred him by running him through with a spear.

But you probably don’t know him that way. You don’t know him as an early church martyr. If you have spent some time in church over the years, you probably know the disciple by his label – “doubting Thomas.” There was much more to Thomas than the one event after the resurrection of Jesus that gave him his infamous name. But the label stuck. And there is probably much more to the people we come in contact each day than the labels we so often attach to them. Maybe it’s time to start removing those labels.

Mac McPhail
https://www.clintonnc.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/web1_general-pics-025-2.jpgMac McPhail

By Mac McPhail

Contributing columnist

Mac McPhail, raised in Sampson County, lives in Clinton and can be reached at [email protected].