Each of us is in a container of some kind. ...In a caste system, the label is frequently out of sync with the contents, mistakenly put on the wrong shelf, and this hurts people and institutions in ways we may not always know. ...

The interviews went as expected until the last one. I had arrived a few minutes early to make sure we could start on time ... A man in a business suit and overcoat walked in, harried and breathless. From the far corner [his assistant] nodded that this was him, so I went up to introduce myself and get started. He was out of breath, had been rushing, coat still on, checking his watch.

"Oh, I can't talk with you now," he said, brushing past me. "I'm very, very busy. I'm running late for an appointment." ...

"I think I'm your appointment," I said.

"No, this is a very important appointment with The New York Times...I can't talk with you now. I'll have to talk with you some other time."

"But I am with The New York Times....I talked with you on the phone. I'm the one who made the appointment with you for four-thirty."

“What’s the name?”

“Isabel Wilkerson with The New York Times.”

“How do I know that?" he shot back, growing impatient. "Look, I said I don't have time to talk with you right now. She'll be here any minute."..."I'm going to have to ask you to leave so I can get ready for my appointment."

I left and walked back to the Times bureau, dazed and incensed...This was the first time I had ever been accused of impersonating myself. His caste notions of who should be doing what in society had so blinded him that he dismissed the idea that the reporter he was anxiously awaiting, excited to talk to, was standing right in front of him.

—Isabel Wilkerson, from her book Caste.