Though spoken from the perspective of a very fictional Galinda, I feel like I often hear or read the same type of prejudice expressed every day with different, very real, nouns.

Elphaba looked like something between an animal and an Animal, like something more than life but not quite Life. There was an expectancy but no intuition, was that it?—like a child who has never remembered having a dream being told to have sweet dreams. You’d almost call it unrefined, but not in a social sense—more in a sense of nature not having done its full job with Elphaba, not quite having managed to make her enough like herself.
—Gregory Maguire, “Wicked.”