AS we wound our way through Stroud Park on the Fringe weekend - our safe little train of friends and classmates - I watched as we passed by the other carriages.

There was a mixed group of boys and girls, all dressed in white with baseball caps, jumpsuits and ponytails to the side.

Across from them was a friendly gang of slightly spaced out, multicolored pixies.

The farthest corner contained a station packed full of dyed black hair, black and white checks, black drainpipe trousers and stripy black and white clothing.

Each group fits a stereotype. Each stereotype has a downside and usually this is picked on by other groups.

I have never belonged to one of these categories; however, I have done my best to avoid being associated with a couple of them.

Each group has been given a name, such as: Chavs, Grebos, Goths, Emos, Skaters, etc.

I find it somewhat bizarre when I'm asked "What are you?" when I can only reply, "I'm me."

The whole concept of dividing society goes way back. Aristocrats and Plebeians, Montagues and Capulets, racism, sexism, and even ageism.

It is apparent that everyone is their own person but in some ways there is a lot of responsibility in being a human being; therefore we give ourselves up to a larger group, thus the focus is not exclusively on the individual.

Classing one another, though, can be a dangerous conduct. Violence and segregation is almost inevitable and on the nights of the festival I definitely witnessed this.

I think in order to overcome this we must step out of our groups at times and shred the different tastes in music, clothing, or hair colour until we find the person underneath.

Don't judge the Emo by his belt, nor the Chav by her "bling".