strange, and a little bit left of center

sunni's post on improving the angle of her chin got me thinking about my school years today.  (just to be clear, this isn't a response to her post.  this is my completely separate tangent.)  if those hallowed halls of my youth were divided in half between good and bad, i was a part of what you'd call the bad kids.  i wasn't bad (i don't think any kids are), but i always felt strange and a little bit left of center--and for me it was the best thing i could have felt.  much of my label, well, maybe all of my label, was due to my wardrobe.  not handmade, but much like it is now, only with stars and lightning bolts painted on my face, and teeny skirts with technicolor heels and lace scarves.

that might be pretty much exactly as it is now.

my mom used to say she couldn't wait to see what i'd come downstairs in every morning.  you really never could tell what i'd come up with.  it afforded me my sub-definition label, given me by the popular crew in my school: Weird Slut.  this was a constant source of humor to me, as i was one of the only Virgins in that very large school, but i stood my lace clad ground and wore what i liked.  my parents instilled in me a confidence and a respect for others that allowed me to be secure in who i was without bending to peer pressure, at the same time letting others be who they were.

my parents rock, y'all.

that's not to say the cliques weren't, as they always have been, overbearing.  but i'd walk around the halls knowing i had an air of other around me, feeling like that fox with moss surrounding it (the fox, by the way, is the work of kate innamorato, and is part of the rogue taxidermy 2012 biennial exhibit at la luz de jesus gallery, also know as wacko in silverlake.  go if you're close, it's wild and wonderful).  i liked that air.  it was a protective shield. a peer pressure force field.  i lived happily in that ecosystem for years, and was completely shocked when, in my senior year, i was nominated for homecoming queen.  in a weird way, i had become popular.  or maybe the male population was hoping to get in my pants?    in hindsight, that was probably it-- a popular boy (sub label; Jock) had asked me for a date which quickly ended when the answer was Hell No.  (and also Hell No, i didn't win. outcome having nothing to do with the date.)

my teachers rocked too.  maybe it was because i was secure in myself in the first place (though i was quite shy at first meeting), or maybe that had zero to do with it (there were plenty adults that dismissed my presence due to dress or race).  but i can think of at least ten teachers, one or more of whom i think of almost daily, their words sticking with me to this day, who propped me up in big and little ways they probably didn't even realize.    

i knew a lot of kids (quite personally) who didn't have enough of those words.  they had their labels, though, and without words of encouragement, for some it was easier to give in and be that label.  those necessary words are small advantages with big payoffs.  they can be easily given gifts, or easily thrusted daggers.  don't get me wrong, i think the role of Teacher is right in line with Brain Surgeon in terms of Difficult Frigging Jobs On This Planet.  but many of those kids were definitely smarter than me, and infinitely creative.  with some extra words, a little propping up, a little You Are The Best Thing Ever or even Always Remember To Replace The Marker Cap

i can't finish that sentence.  because every kid should be as lucky as i was, and i don't want that sentence to exist.

whatever your school year words were, whatever your label was, everyone had a teacher that affected them in some way.  i was lucky to have many, and i want to give a huge thank you to all of them.  Thank.  You.

who (edit: and what) were yours?