On Being the Other

I missed my high school reunion, it was this past weekend. I only heard of it from word of mouth from one former classmate, but was unsure of when it actually was. My high school either didn't sent out anything, or only sent out very few notices, it wasn't in the local paper's calendar. There was no word of it, despite the owner of the bar it was held at being told it would be a big event.

I pondered my reunion quite a big, I even wrote about it and the idea of whether or not I wanted to actually attend. Main reason being, aside from an education and a small circle of friends, I really had no connection to my high school. I still see some of the people from my graduating class now and then, I have an idea of who's successful, who isn't, know who started a family and whatnot.

My circle of friends was small, and even then they were the ones considered "misfits". I was the smart but unambitious type who hung out with guys who had learning disabilities. Having friends of mixed company with no romantic interaction is considered an oddity at this phase in life. We were "others". Even amongst this crew I still felt like the "other". I was both the eldest child in my family (My friends were the youngest in theirs) and yet I was the youngest of the group. I was also the only one whose parents were separated. I was already drifting away from the girls I was friends with since elementary school. My personal tastes and beliefs were different from theirs, even today I'm still different from them. While they're all settled down with families I turned out more like my guy friends, committed but not settled.

I have always been an Other, it was drilled into me by my peers at an early age. I was no different from them in terms of visible differences. I was just the "odd" one who became singled out. In later years I grew to accept it. I was different, and there was nothing wrong with that. My personal interests were based on what fit my life, and the same went for those I grew up around. While one friend balked at my preference for nonfiction rather than high fantasy books, I found some form of solace in the rock bios I was reading. My teen years were strangely tumultuous and none of my friends could relate.

The years after high school started with what became a dormant period. The last of my childhood friends drifted out of life only to retain sporadic contact. I slowly gained other friends, some of them older than me. I grew into this different skin gradually. I know one thing that helped was becoming an artist and making myself a part of the art community. While what I do is very different, I find my Otherness is welcomed. It's seen as bringing something new to the table. I'm once again the one of the youngest people in my social circle, but my youth is seen as an asset. I was the one who was given the opportunity to do social media work for an art group. My peers are familiar with email, some with blogging, but are not as net savvy as myself. My personal style goes outside of the local, which is again welcomed as giving my work a universal touch. Being a performance poet, I also touch upon issues most artists in my area don't have avenue for. Landscape painters would have a difficult time addressing issues such as bullying through their art.

Otherness is something that should be celebrated. In formative years it is awkward to be different from most people, but unique attributes can become assets. While I am still wildly different from many of the people I associate with, the things that make me different are what make me accepted.

Senior Employee

The longest job I've ever held, is my current job. I've been there almost eight years, sometimes it feels longer, other times it feels like I started just yesterday.

When I was first hired I didn't know what to expect in terms of how long I'd be staying. I was in need of work after returning home from my first attempt at moving out of my hometown. Things didn't work out and I was back, and in need of work. I took what I could find that paid decent and gave me hours I was capable of working.

Actually, I had another offer before I took my current job, and didn't like it. It was for another convenience store that offered lower than asking pay with strange hours. I didn't like it and in my own desperation sought an interview elsewhere in hopes of finding a better deal, which is what I got. If I didn't like it, I could always look elsewhere later. Main point was I had a job, could find an apartment, and be that adult my Mother wanted me to be.

Over the years I've seen the good and the bad. Right now I've been there longer than anyone else, including my current manager. I've worked almost every shift, the only exception being opening. I know my way around the store, got to see it remodeled this past fall, seen regulars come and go. Some days it makes me feel old, even though I'm still in my twenties.

It's done a lot of good for me though. It built up my self confidence, something I lost during my brief time living in Florida. I made a few friends over the years who have drifted in and out of my life. At times I've witnessed some pretty scary things, such as fights or the one time I watched a guy OD right in front of the door after lock up. Scariest thing I ever saw. We were there later than usual due to having to call rescue, talk to the police, and wait for the ambulance to pull out of the parking lot so my co worker and I could leave.

In many ways, things stay constant. Sometimes the crowds change, but their behaviors remain the same. Young adults hang out all day loitering, elderly customers come into get their coffee and tickets and just hang out for the afternoon. Families take their kids in for dessert or a post-game treat during the summer. At the same time some customers tell me they like I'm still around, because I am familiar in the sometimes revolving door that is the rest of the staff.

It's driven me crazy at times, but I know I'll probably miss it when it's my time to leave. I know I'm nearing the end of my time there. Could be next year, could be a few years from now. I just know that one day somebody else will become the senior employee.