I’m a Gryffindor. Pottermore put me there; I have a red and gold tie in my closet, a Gryffindor Crest on my wall at home, and have the authority to give high-fives to anyone I see wearing Gryffinor gear by basis of house pride. When I was in high school, I sorted myself into Hufflepuff because all I wanted in the world was a close set of friends to hang out with and be loyal to. When I was in middle school, being a nerd was all the rage and I figured I was a Ravenclaw because I spent most of my time in the library reading a variety of books.

Harry Potter is amazing. The Hogwarts houses are a phenomenon of self-identification embraced by most people in the millennial generation. At least half of your peers can probably tell you what house they’re in — whether it be an “official” Pottermore sorting, or a self-sorting because they didn’t agree with that website’s choice.

Let’s face it, humanity kind of likes that sort of thing. Horoscopes, astrology, learning types, Meyers-Briggs letters, zodiac signs … there are gobs of ways that people can find to label themselves and identify some qualities they have — and what that means. I myself can reel off all of those I listed above for myself because I do love learning about that sort of thing (very Ravenclaw of me, I suppose).

Hogwarts houses are different. For one thing, they’re legitimately based in a common British school system of separating groups into houses the same way you might have been separated into “teams” in middle school and high school. For another, for as much as houses are used in the books to separate and presuppose ideas about certain characters, the entire run of the books works to combat these ideas and turn them on their heads.

Who was the most worthy student Hogwarts had to offer for the Triwizard tournament? Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff. Not a big brave Gryffindor like the named hero of the series, but a boy from the “other” house that nobody wants to be in when they’re choosing what color tie to buy at the Wizarding World of Potter. Who is the only Ravenclaw we as readers get to know particularly well? Luna Lovegood, who is not obsessed with grades so much as she’s fascinated by ideas, no matter how ludicrous.

The biggest coward in the entire series is Peter Pettigrew — a Gryffindor. This comes as a shock to the system considering that Harry’s told by both Hagrid and Ron that all bad guys come from Slytherin; everyone knows that.

Labels bring danger. The last two Sorting Hat songs that we as readers get to read about can basically be broken down into, “Hey you idiots, there’s real life bad stuff going down in the real world, get over yourselves and work together.” That’s a pretty good message for the world in general, I think. We live in a world where a girl can get angrier looks for wearing a hijab than a dude gets for wearing a “cool story, now get me a sandwich” shirt. If that doesn’t show you something’s wrong with our society, I’m not sure what can.

I’m a Gryffindor. For the right cause, I’m

willing to do whatever it takes. I’m prone to dares, and can rarely pass up a challenge. I’m a Gryffindor, but like everyone I have qualities of all the houses — my friends and family are the most important things in the world to me; I can be loyal to a fault when it comes right down to it. I love learning, if I could go to school for the rest of my life and just listen to lectures on a variety of topics without busy work like tests and papers, I would do it. I’m driven; I want my name to be remembered and I want to do something significant.

I’m a Gryffindor, but I’m everything else too. We need to remember the lessons of Harry Potter and look past the things that make us different to work together to realize we have a lot in common, too. Just because someone is a different race, religion, family background, sexuality or simply a different sex than you doesn’t mean that theirs is wrong; it means theirs is different and worthwhile in its own way. Deal with it. Embrace it. Let’s show some worldwide house unity.