Proud to be an oddball

I was quite young when I decided my best option was to be an eccentric.  I'm not the sort of person that stands out - I'm neither beautiful nor ugly.  I am not stupid, or smart.  I am rarely overwhelmingly obnoxious, but I am not particularly polite, either.  Though I am not athletic, I am also not completely incapable.  My physical appearance is completely nondescript.  I'm of medium height, neither fat nor thin, with brown hair and hazel eyes.  My voice is unremarkable.

It's not that I wanted to stand out in a crowd.  In fact, I was thankful for being able to blend in.  But I would still like to be memorable to people I meet, and respect.  No peer will ever be amazed at my wit or talent.  No teacher will ever point me out as an example - of success or failure.  That frustrated me, especially in middle school.  The students that the adults liked and respected were either rowdy or brilliant or beautiful or willfully ignorant.

So I had to play my strengths.  In the South-Eastern states, I was already unusual for being a Reformed Christian.  I read more quickly and of a greater variety than most students, and never watched television.  I generally got along with my parents and brothers.  I had lived overseas (on a volcano, no less). And before that I had lived in North Dakota, which was equally foreign.  I had had snowball fights and gone sledding on a regular basis, and without having to pay for a ski resort.  I rarely met my extended relatives, and couldn't even name all of my cousins.  I also had experience with RPG's - both PC and tabletop.

Instead of hiding my differences, I used them to define myself relative to other people.  As a eccentric, there was little pressure to fit in.  I was expected not to share mainstream interests, to dress oddly (i.e. cheaply), to discuss thoughtfully, and to be socially awkward.  If I was bored or uncomfortable in a situation, people accepted the fact that I was a bookworm and allowed me to hide behind ink and paper.  If my pants were ugly and too long, well it was comfortable and I've never cared much for my appearance.  There were limitations, of course.  I was often left out when the talk turned to popular culture.  While people were generally very gracious about my lack of social skills, it didn't change the fact that they were (and are) lacking.  I'd rather write an exam than have a conversation.  I would often get in trouble in English class for reading ahead or disagreeing with the textbook.

By the end of high school, I had gotten very comfortable with this label and stereotype.  I had learned to knit, and found other people who enjoyed it.  A small group of us became obsessed with classic film.  I read popular fantasy series that other students were eager to chat about.  I avoided the lunchroom, instead visiting teachers or attending a philosophy club.  A friend and I played with my family's video camera.  English teachers gave me old textbooks they were throwing away, and lent me other books.     

There are more of us than you would think.  On television, high school consists of jocks, cheerleaders, honor students, and the dreaded unpopular crowd which usually consists of goths and geeks.  Geeks, of course, wear glasses, have a very substandard notion of appropriate hygiene, wear dark ill-fitting clothes, and desperately wish to be a cheerleader or jock.  And they are usually proficient with computers.  I know it may shock you, but this is rarely the case.  It is possible for a person to enjoy cheerleading, chemistry, and opera at the same time.  It is possible for a person to be a brilliant and skilled artist/mathematician/athlete.

There are more of us than you would think.  And we can see you.  Mwa ha ha ha!!!!