Who I am? I am who?

Why I am, Who I am

Why I Am, Who I Am

            No one would believe me if I said, I was the perfect student in high school. Similarly, at least now, no one I associate with would believe me if I said, I was one of those kids back when I was in high school.

            On either note, I was that kid who hated school. I, in fact, hated it so much I barely showed up. Well, that lead to a big issue I like to call Retention, aka I failed a grade. In the words of Ponyboy Curtis, I was tough. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks—so to speak. My mom never worked, and my father—well he pretended I didn't exist, which was okay, 'cuz I never cared that he did exist.

            I was that kid, the one who smoked cigarettes and cigars. Yeah, I know "Smoking causes cancer!" and all that jazz. Well, I'm alive, and I've not smoked since five years ago. My mother, the dear, never noticed that a few of her smokes went missing every day. Like she would've cared anyway, she was too obsessed with those damned magazines she bought by the bundle. If memory serves correctly, I smoked from the time I was 14 until I turned 18. Ya' know, doing something isn't as much fun when you're allowed to do it.

            I was that kid who sat in the back of class, and made smart assed remarks. Yeah, that kid. I wasn't fortunate enough to be handsome, I never liked those pretty boys—anyway. Well, that's partially a lie, but I'll speak about that in a moment or two. I once carved my name into the desk with the teacher's car key, yeah, I was real cool.

            I was that kid who couldn't walk into a store without them nasty looks from the shopkeepers, they must'a known I was a thief 'cuz they would find excuses to follow me through the store. It was always weird, 'cuz I'm white. In my day, it was all but unexpected that shopkeepers would profile the blacks, yeah, those were tough days for men of color.

            I was that kid who stood out, even when fitting in. I was the only gay I knew of back then, and I knew I'd've never lived it down if I'd've come-out. I wasn't like those sissies, nor was I butch. I mean, I was tall and slender; but just a few muscles short of a football player. I couldn't bear playing sports, I hated all sorts of establishments—even those irrelevant rules for sports. In regards to that, Lord Alfred Douglass says it best; I loved "the love that dare not speak its name."

#

           

            I feel it you might be thinking that I was not that kid who brought home straight A's every marking period in every subject. On the contrary, I brought home high A's and B's in every subject, every marking period. It's a little surprising, yeah I get that, considering I scarcely found my way to class. I like to think of it similar to what Don Herold once said, "It takes a lot of things to prove you are smart, but only one thing to prove you are ignorant." I think that my intellect is put to better use making sure that the rocket scientist gets to work, than making some other guy make sure I got to work.