The Really Interesting Conversation I Had At The Park
Stinky One had a playdate at the part the other day. Both he and Stinky Two are old enough to run amok under a watchful eye, as was the case with the other children (minus newborn very content in his stroller), leaving Other Nice Mom and I to hold an (oft interrupted) conversation (awesome, I still remember how to do that). The boys have been in school together all year, but she and I hadn’t managed much more than “hi, my name is,” and “bye,” because pre-school pick up which meant there were many topics from which to choose.
We had chosen “reading” for some reason I don’t really remember now, how her son was able to do so, how Stinky One had only recently begun to show an interest in doing so himself though he is very much attached to being read to. I mentioned how he had requested one of the comics I get them electronically be added to the family pull-list our local comic shop, how he loved holding comics in his hands, how much both of my kids love them generally. I used the word “Geek” in reference to both myself and my husband.
She responded in a way that struck me. “We don’t mind if our kids are Geeks. Better that than jocks.”
Time out.
I know exactly what she meant and I assure you I took no offense. Finally being comfortable with myself has translated to both a thicker skin and dic-father oil coating (aka: things roll off). Take things far less personally.
The above aside, I do still think. I maintain an interest in the way different ways people define words.
For this other mom, “Geek” is something for her sons to be in an aspirational sense (who woulda thunk). An identification of exclusion (not the asshole guy who bullies the weak and plays football, dates cheerleaders). The term is a box with rigid sides. A social class – maybe even a caste – to which one can purchase membership by following certain standards of appearance and behavior.
I think, despite the rise of the Geek, her attitude is probably the more common one. It’s easier, generally speaking, for humans to check a box and gather with others who fit the same criteria than to check multiple boxes, or no boxes at all, and stand awkwardly in a corner surveying the room for someone who gets it.
For me, “Geek” is something I am. It’s in my DNA as much as my brown eyes, my slightly too big nose, and the birthmark I had removed from my right butt cheek when I was eleven. I could never not be a baseball geek, a comic geek, a superhero geek, a writer geek, a book geek, a science geek because if I tried, I would have a massive void in myself nothing else would fill. I could choose to be something else, but I would be miserable.
I am also many other things. I check a lot of boxes and its’ taken me years to realize that’s fine. It’s good. Awesome even. Does it make things harder on me? Sure. People think I’m weird. They’ve been telling me since I was an uncomfortable, awkward pre-teen. I spend many, many miserable years trying to find the right box and failing because I was denying myself.
We should worry less about boxes. More about who we are than what, what we love rather than which group it lands us in. The people who love us without explanations or excuses or rationalizations.
Hubs and I tell the kids on a near daily basis, “Weird is good.” Weird is interesting and beautiful and special, Geek, Jock, or Other.
Thus endeth the sermon.
Be weird.
Or not.
It’s entirely up to you.
Recent Comments