Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged

Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged

            People judge others for numerous reasons.  Mostly it stems out of fear or confusion.  Over the centuries we have become more accepting of others from different racial backgrounds.  Some of the things that we still discriminate and judge people for are size, sexual preference and clothing.  In my opinion, high school is the worst. Not just in regards to the students, but to the administration as well.

            It’s hard to express one’s individuality without repercussions.  If you wear clothes that someone would think of as not being “normal”; wear your hair a certain way; have different mannerisms it could be cause for ridicule.  If you dress all in black, people become concerned and think you are constantly depressed.  If you wear red, you’re angry.  It’s almost as if there is a fear of the children being able to express themselves.  The school system has a certain type of dress code policy that you are “strongly” encouraged to adhere to.  You had to be prim and proper at all times. 

            I used to show my individuality by dressing in black clothing, spiked collars, and big black boots.  If I did wear make-up, I used heavy eyeliner and black lipstick.  I didn’t do these things for attention; I just simply thought that shade looked best on me.  In this area, if you stray outside the norm with your appearance, you are automatically prejudged as a delinquent.  Freedom of expression is permitted as long as it meets within the politically correct guidelines.   They don’t bother to stop and actually speak to you to find out if you are a good and nice person.  You are just thrown into the category of someone who is different and strange.

            I love to do things to help others who are less fortunate than me or just someone who is in need of something.  I always have.  I never thought much of always going around and telling about all of the good things you’ve done just to gain attention and popularity.  I just thought of  it as kind of tacky.  However, once people did start to find out what good things I do and have done, they started treating me differently.  It was almost as if they thought that someone like me or the people that I associated with were incapable of doing good deeds.  People started coming to me and actually asking if I wanted to be a part of social activities, fundraising, and community service events.  For the first time, I felt like I was being accepted.

            The moral of this story is, judge not lest ye be judged. Instead of prejudging someone based on what they wear or what they look like; try introducing yourself.  You may find that they are a wonderful person.  Just waiting until someone stopped to give them the time of day; if nothing more than a smile and a kind word.  Clothing doesn’t make the person.  It’s the person who makes the clothes.

Pants on Fire

Following the rules was never much my cup of tea.  It lacked excitement, the thrill of adventure.  Following the rules took patience; a virtue I will never acquire.  I acted on instinct alone, mostly. I was never one to listen when someone told me not to do something. I rarely thought to stop and question the consequences.

One thing I have always believed is that you should never compromise yourself or what you believe in.  Never let someone tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, especially when it comes to how you live your life.  No matter how inane; if it stirs your core, defend it.  I’ve always been considered the rebel of the family.  My actions, dress and mannerisms just didn’t suite the others.

I was categorized one of the “freaks” in high school.  Black became a staple shade in my wardrobe and shortly after came the shaved head.  Black nail polish and black lipstick accompanied striped stockings and piercings.  Unlike the majority of my classmates, I was almost not allowed into my Junior Homecoming dance.  In their eyes women should be in dresses with well-groomed hair.  I thought otherwise. 

I reached my limit at sixteen.  I dropped out of high school to move to Philadelphia with a few friends. My stint in Philly lasted a maybe six months in totem.  Upon my arrival back to Virginia I soon discovered Charlottesville.  It was everything that I’d searched for.  It was more accepting of change and appearance that what I had been used to.  I made an incredible amount of “undesirable” friends.  They weren’t upstanding in the eyes of society and I adored them. 

Soon after, I discovered the wonderful world of free-speech bumper stickers.  It was wonderful to have your beliefs posted over the entire backside of your vehicle.  It caused such a controversy in my family.  Once again I was the black sheep and talk of the family.  The girl with the anti-establishment and political opinion sticker plastered ford hatch-back.  The more they protested my stickers; the more I added.  My two favorites were “Question Authority” and my upside down American Flag.  Finally the family noticed and I was asked to remove my stickers before entering the driveway.  I was quite shocked at how upset they got when I refused. Requesting this of someone who has a “Question Authority” sticker on their vehicle?  As if they expected something other than my refusal.  As they say though: “Freedom of Speech is only Freedom of Thought”.

Fed up completely with living my life to the standards of others; I dropped out of my GED class and moved to Charlottesville.  It was there that I stayed for a decade. It was the best decision of my life.  Now that I am a mother, the main thing that I will instill in my daughter is to question everything.  Never sacrifice yourself or your beliefs; at any cost. Never let anyone dictate who or what you are to become.