It's All a Part of Me, That is Who I am

Dear Whoever You Might Be,

      Since birth, and many times when still in the womb, children are encouraged to "be themselves". That it is completely normal to "be different" and "not fit in." I too was comforted during the tumultuous middle-school years by my mom saying it is better to "be myself and not a cookie-cutter girl." Basically, why on earth would I want to be exactly the same as every other person around me? What fun is there in that? Makes sense, doesn't it?

      In the world of entertainment, there are more movies, books, plays and television shows about the "underdog who rises to the top due to their individuality" than I can count. One that we all know by heart is the Christmas classic, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Rudolph was born with a different nose than all the other reindeer; his nose was red. His parents, especially his father, tried to cover up his unique feature with the encouragement from Santa. Santa! Rudolph, once his secret is revealed, is mocked and shunned from playing the reindeer games. He soon befriends the wanna-be dentist Hermey. Hermey too was different because he didn't want to be an average elf who made toys. No, he wanted to be a dentist so he ran away to escape his toy-maker fate. On their journey, they encounter the comical Yukon Cornelius and together, the three friends find themselves on the Island of Misfit Toys. On this snowy isolation resides the toys that were not wanted because they were too "different." Among the many toys are Charlie-in-the-Box, a cowboy who rides an ostrich, an airplane that cannot fly and a spotted elephant. These misfits are overcome with sadness and loneliness and just wish that they could be loved like all the other toys. In the end, Rudolph's red nose saves Christmas and he is suddenly praised and adored for his used-to-be deformity. Hermey, removes the teeth from the terrifying Abominable Snow Monster which tames the beast. The Misfit Toys are picked up by Santa and given out to boys and girls for Christmas. All is right in the world again and the "underdogs" saved the day.

      I have always loved Rudolph and always will. I plan to make my children love it as much as I do. But here is what I do not understand. The movie is clearly in praise of the individuality of Rudolph, Hermey and the Misfit Toys, right? Well that is all fun and good, but it also seems to almost criticize the "regular" characters. After watching the movie, no one wants to be the normal reindeer or the toy-making elfs. And why not? What is so wrong with them?

      One of the biggest mysteries in life is why it is O.K. to be different sometimes and O.K. to be just like everyone else at other times. For example, I do not like crabs. This shocks most people I know because I live in the land of Maryland Crabs. I enjoy cream of crab soup and crab dip, but not much beyond that. No big deal, right? Wrong. Where I come from, it is not good enough. I am questioned with quizzical looks and stunned voices; "You live in Maryland. HOW can you NOT like crabs????" I just don't, that is how. My dietary preferences are deemed blasphemous and no one can understand why my personal disliking of crabs is different from everyone else's. Alright, so Maryland is famous for its blue crabs. But would you like to know another interesting fact about the seventh state? Its official sport is Jousting. That's right, Jousting. The pony-riding, stick-carrying, armor-wearing medieval sport....yes, jousting has evolved since than, but bear with me.

      Now, if I supported jousting in the same way that people praised Maryland Crabs, I would be most likely be considered a little loose in the head. My peers would look at me like Luna Lovegood in Harry Potter. People would probably question my general sanity and up-bringing. I would be wierd and an oddball for enjoying a sport that isn't football, basketball, baseball or lacrosse. If I had posters and held Summer's Eve Jousting parties, no one would think I was expressing my individuality. No one would come. And yet, it IS the official state sport. I don't see all my crab-eating critics trotting off to Medieval Times because it's "what Marylander's do." So why is it acceptable for no one to like jousting and yet it is not acceptable for me to not like crabs?

      Wow, that was a tangent, wasn't it? But think about it for a minute? Why does everyone want to be different and yet in certain cases (like disliking crabs), being different is shunned? I just cannot fathom societal behavior sometimes.

      The other day, my brother told me a joke. Why did the hipster burn his mouth?  Because he ate pizza BEFORE it was cool! Hah! Recently, being a "hipster" is the cool thing. Being hipster means being different. Not listening to mainstream music, drinking coffee from the privately-owned shop and not starbucks, wearing thrift store sweaters and just being all around "cool." Sometimes I secretly wish I was that "cool" but if everyone is trying to be "different", is there anyone who actually IS different?

      When we are children, we are told to be ourselves no matter what people thinkg. But what if ourself just wants to be a princess like every other five year old girl? No one frowns upon that. What if ourself wants to eat glue? Sorry kid, you will be laughed at for years to come and will probably grow up with self-esteem issues and work in a cubicle and wear a pocket-protector. That is what happens, and it shouldn't. I know it sounds harsh but unfortunately, there is too much truth in what I just said.

      There is nothing strange about liking what everyone else likes. There is nothing wrong or harmful. People consider it "conforming" but what if a child really DOES enjoy listening to Justin Beiber? What if someone's individuality prefers McDonalds over WholeFoods? Growing up all my friends had American Girl Dolls. Guess who didn't. Instead, I had Magic Attic Dolls. The two are very similar, indeed, but they have different names, stories and clothes. I was always proud to have unique dolls that none of my friends had. And yet, more than not, I felt isolated from my friends because I couldn't talk about the new Samantha clothes I unwrapped for my birthday. My friends never understood why I refused to want an American Girl Doll. Occassionally, I never understood either. But I loved my different dolls. I loved having something that no one else in my class did. Was I any better? No. Were they any better? No. We just wanted different things and yet it was always such a conundrum.

      Recently there have been advertisements on television for a new animated movie called Paranorman. The trailer portrays a kid who is different from the other kids in town because he sees ghosts. In the end it is up to him to save the town from destruction. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? The narrator for the trailer says, "You don't become a hero by being normal." That assumption just absolutely appalls me. Normal people, average people can be heros in their own way. Sure, not everyone can be an olympian, a war veteran, a Mother Theresa. But people who are the "same" as everyone have just as much potential and capability as those who are "different." You just cannot presume that because someone lives in a suburban home with 2.4 children, owns a golden retriever and drives a minivan means that they aren't as good as someone who lives in a studio apartment and rides a bicycle to their pottery shop everyday.

      I am different in many ways. I am absolutely one hundred percent nomal and average in many ways. I am not saying that being different is bad or good nor am I saying that being the same is bad or good. My point is, no matter what someone likes or doesn't like, it IS their individual preference. It shouldn't matter what society says, what your peers say or even what the movies say. What matters is what YOU say.  Everyone is weird and silly and goofy and normal and average and special and just about everything. It just depends on who's judging.

      Now that I have taken up so much of your time with my lengthy rant, I bid you all Adieu.

                                                                                Sincerely,
                                                                                           Me