Collected Writing

Issue 1 (summer 2k)

Given a few minutes (well, hours) to goof around at my 40-hour week job each day, it seems that a small commitment like a once-weekly-minimum web column isn't too much. Perhaps it will be once I return to school, where I'll be able to find new relevant things to comment on, but so much's the worse, as it were. We'll first see if this gets readers. Who knows the size of Themestream's teenage audience?

At any rate, if you're to suffer my commentary you should probably learn some background on the author that perhaps couldn't be gleaned from a short profile. Location is seldom important, but this is penned from South Bend, Indiana, my summer home between school years. Speaking of which, I'm preparing for my second of two years I'm spending at the Indiana Academy on Ball State's campus, three hours from home.

Stuff like the name and location of my school wouldn't be relevant at all, if I hadn't gotten so much out of going to the Academy thus far. Living with one's peers, all within two years of age (Juniors and Seniors-only school) of each other, has given me opportunities to see what happens when 16-18-year olds spend all their time in close proximity with each other and their significant others. Without experiencing a closer-than-college institution like this, I'd be no more qualified than any fairly unsuccessful 18-year old new romantic to criticize the social system my peers (namely, you) and I establish and gleefully perpetuate. As it is, you'll still have to decide if I really do have the right to criticize.

I've gone through a lot of philosophies in life, but the current one goes something like this: while people have an infinite amount of ways to express themselves (don't they always tell you "Everyone is different!"), countless favorite adjectives to describe themselves, and various terrible tastes, we're all still a lot more alike than we are different. It's a bit like a cake. Pretty much everyone's made out of the same kind of mix; it's just the icing that differs.

Of course, some people are just fucked up.

It's a flawed idealogy. If one believes that everyone is basically the same, it's hard to explain why we dislike some people intensely and love others. The best answer I can provide is that no one wants to be seen as being the same as the next guy, so a good deal of the things we do are with the intent of producing an outer layer that stands out from others', so that people can point to us and say "That's the guy (or girl) who likes _____ or does _____ or (regrettably) dates _____." I don't know about you, but I certainly don't want to feel the same as the guy down the hall who watches WWF and blasts Korn. So I get to be the guy who plays "weird" music, is in the comedy clubs, and, to quote a peer in middle school, "draws real good."

So what makes people likeable or not? For me, it's honesty. My closest friends are the people who know who they are, or, like me, are trying to figure it out. They're the ones that realize how life experience is so often what's really intriguing about a person, and how doing things, even stupid things, is nearly always better than not doing them. If you don't try things, you won't be able to enjoy them. Conversely, you can't condemn them, either, if that's your bag.

And for how this pertains to a column on teens socially and romantically? I suppose the most important part is that I want other teenagers to look for more from their friends, even the ones they're not particularly close to yet. My experience is that it's always worth it to share things about yourself with your friends, because they will more often than not do the same. That's the second part of my social philosophy: that it's worth it to risk scaring off a peripheral friend in trying to bring them closer.

I hope that, with time, this sort of commentary will become readable rather than simply being a self-absorbed "vent" column, but I'm still going to extend thanks for patience on your part. I'll see you next time, when, just maybe, the subject line will fit the article.