Continuing from two weeks ago, good people stay up to date on pertinent political issues. A good person doesn’t mind throwing in the missing $2 that will settle a disputed restaurant bill. A good person — to a point — isn’t a grammar snob. Good people love Aaron Sorkin. Good people are always willing to meet someone new, and, crucially, good people don’t reduce their friends to single, sweeping adjectives.

What is a “sweeping adjective?” A sweeping adjective is the judgmental broom-work we use to shuffle people into unfair, incomplete categories. It is a poor hypothesis meant to place someone beneath a title we can only guess they would apply to themselves. These titles (Jew, Christian, Muslim, white, black, etc.) are horribly non-specific, usually irrelevant, and often disagreeable to the person being labeled. These titles are bad, frankly, because they are reductionist and encourage stereotyping. I will explain.

When was the last time you met someone who was just gay? Someone who was just black? Just an Engineer? Imagine if people used only one word to describe you. What would it be and would you be OK with it?

Of course we have to use some such terms to define the pronouns in our sentences, and, of course, not all labels are by themselves offensive — I don’t find anything particularly wrong, for instance, when identified as a male so long as it’s understood that whatever I’m doing, saying, watching, thinking is not only because I’m male. It is sometimes necessary to use such identifying words when describing people for the sole purpose of fleshing out our speech, but this shouldn’t be done to suggest a stereotype, only to correct the habitual assumptions we all make. For instance, as my friend Robert Morningstar pointed out to me, when reading a novel, we often assume the characters are Caucasian and heterosexual unless we’re told otherwise. Hence the surprise when J.K. Rowling announced that she allegedly intended her character Dumbledore to be read as gay. I’m sure I’m not the only one who missed that.

We get into trouble, however, when we use singular labels of convenience, and assume that our chosen, less-than-thorough adjectives do justice to the people in question. This is a problem because applying “Umbrella Adjectives” reduces people to those adjectives and subjects them to the implications of titles beyond their control.

In my experience at Cornell, I’ve been bewildered to hear the term “Mormon” inaccurately, harmfully used as synonymous with “polygamist” or “cultist,” both of which are connotations Mormons (your classmates, by the way) find appalling to their faith. There is absolutely nothing inherently wrong or crazy about mainstream Mormonism that isn’t both wrong and crazy about any religion, and applying the non-specific sweeping term “Mormon” as a pejorative, lazy way of connoting something awful oppresses, embarrasses and silences real people.

But there’s more:

How often do we begin a story about someone by saying, “my black friend” as though this identification was necessary? I can’t imagine how it could be relevant to any story, unless the anecdote is about something race-related.

In fact, when one uses the artificial (and socially constructed) racial classifications “black” or “white,” one implies that these terms somehow give a reason for everything that person experiences and decides. You wouldn’t begin a story by saying, “My human friend Noah,” unless the fact that I’m a bipedal mammal was crucial to your point, so why is it necessary to reduce people to other irrelevant categories (such as gay, South Dakotan or Scientologist) when talking about them?

I mention all of this because I was recently referred to in an Oct. 30 Sun column (“For God and Country No More”) as a “Chosen Son of Israel” with the implication that because I am a Jew I speak for all Jews, as though if I was mentioned as white I should speak for all whites, or male for all males.

In addition to the fact that the phrase “Chosen Son of Israel” implies an elitism I do not harbor and was used in an infuriatingly snide way, I was absolutely appalled by the insinuation that my religious beliefs somehow dictate how I feel about an unrelated political issue. The fact that I identify as Jewish is entirely irrelevant to my feelings about the Mt. Soledad Cross, but by including my religion as an identifier, that column’s author offensively suggested some sort of causation. Some people choose to let their choice of gods inform other parts of their lives — and that’s fine — but I don’t do that, and suggesting that I’m guided by Judaism alone was hurtful, reductionist and base.

It has become an unfortunate American trope that people are subjected to pain and suffering because of how they’re classified. It’s damn near archetypal that Americans suffer because of the reductionist titles black, white, Indian, mixed, gay, Japanese. So why can’t we attempt to learn the lesson that race and religion, when they don’t matter … don’t matter.

That is not to say that discussions of race and background have to be taboo. Understanding that some people have misconceived notions or puerile beliefs about the “differences” between neighbors is essential to correcting centuries of segregation and alarming inequality. What I’m suggesting is that demarcating someone as “black” or “white” or “Jewish” or “Insert Adjective Here” need only be relevant … when it’s relevant.

So here’s the etiquette tip: If you must describe a person to someone else, find something specific about that person to say, and make sure it’s something they would also agree describes themself. Don’t assume that someone identifies as his outward appearance or social circle would suggest. And, very importantly, don’t reduce yourself to any lone adjective. You’re not just a Frat Boy. You’re not just a Long Islander. You’re not just a furry, a student, Hindi, black, white, religious or even American. Everyone has at least 20 adjectives they should happily apply to themselves at all times. Make a list. Carry it around with you. Find some way to suggest that you identify as “human” first and explain to everyone who listens why you consider that to be the most important adjective of all.

Noah Hy Brozinsky is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at nbrozinsky@cornellsun.com. Walk Emily Home appears alternate Wednesdays.