When I think of “labeling,” I have a particular story that I remember as a child and young teenager that fits this paper well. Although the name I have chosen to use for this story is different, the rest of the story is how I remember it and also how I perceived that others spoke about it. My best friend growing up was named Mike. He was a black kid that I first met in the second grade. We quickly became good friends and enjoyed playing together at school, soccer practice, and eventually at our homes. I lived in a middle class neighborhood and Mike lived in a lower class neighborhood that was very close to mine. We became quickly inseparable and generally rode bikes together in either of our neighborhoods. At such a young age I didn’t realize what family troubles were so until later in life I wasn’t able to put these things completely into perspective. I knew that Mike’s mother held a good job as that is what Mike told me and I also gathered the same thing from my parents. On the other hand Mike’s dad I don’t believe had a steady job based on the same facts that I gathered about his mother. Mike’s mom when she was home generally engaged in conversation with us frequently as it was quite the opposite with Mike’s dad. At the time I really didn’t understand why Mike’s dad wasn’t around much and when he was I never really knew him to work although at the time it didn’t seem unusual to me. Most of the time when I was with Mike we generally played together as it was fairly infrequent that other kids played with just the two of us. As time went on the little I was around Mike’s dad I did notice that there were times that he acted quite different, erratic, and sometimes he could be mean. I didn’t understand this because as of that time in my life I hadn’t been around someone like this. Mike always “played” it off about his dad’s ways when he acted like he did or if I would question it. I trusted Mike so I