Me, Unfortunately

///the suburbs//

I live right in the middle of my city. My neighborhood is more like an island, closed off from the rest of the city. I grew up very sheltered, but I'm blessed to have the house that I live in. Everywhere in my city is deemed unsafe, even my safe haven, but I'm better off than most. I live in the less expensive side of the neighborhood, but right across the street from the rich side. It's a weird spot to grow up. I was lower-middle class, which was never a bad thing, but all of my classmates were on the wealthy side. Nobody minded though, its just how things were. After all, we were all better off than the kids in the Suburbs.

The suburbs in my city are surprisingly unsettling. There's something about watching giant neighborhoods pop up out of nowhere and become identical rows of housing that leaves a sick feeling in my stomach. Call me edgy, but I like things off the beaten path. I grew up partially in the city, and partially in the country, so the suburbs were always middle ground for me despite never knowing anyone from there. It wasn't until I was twelve and was brought to a dinner for my dad's work that my uneasiness for the suburbs began. I remember my father making me change into my mothers clothes because I didn't have anything formal to wear, and he wanted to make a good impression on this white christian family. My original outfit choice was a simple blue dress that was cut off above the knee and a white cardigan. This was deemed too inappropriate for the dinner, and I had to swap my sneakers for high heels. My blue dress was traded for a black cocktail dress that was far too old for me. I was confused at first. This outfit was no better than the last, but I wasn't in the mood to argue. Instead, I taught myself to walk in heels on the journey from the parked car to the house. The tall, squared-off grey house.

For a building so large, it was very empty. I could here my heels echo as they clicked against the pale wood floor. We were greeted by a couple much younger than my parents, and their two children; A boy who looked about seven or eight, my sisters age, and an older boy. He was maybe about eighteen. We were escorted into the living area, and that was the first time I ever saw a real life maid. I didn't think that people in Winnipeg had maids. She was sweeping the kitchen, but quickly left when we arrived. 

I hardly spoke a word that night. I wasn't quite sure what to say. Occasionally the father of the two boys would say something to me. I was always a shy kid though, so I responded with short, quiet answers. After a while, the children were excused while my parents discussed business with our hosts. My sister ran off with the youngest son to play video games, and I found myself alone in the basement reading a book. Occasionally, I could hear the clink of a whine class and a hearty laugh from upstairs. I remember the basement being so cold and empty. There was one t.v, and an elliptical in the corner, but that was it. I had curled my legs up to my chin to keep myself warm, kicking the heels onto the fuzzy white carpet. The sound of socks hitting the wood floors came from down the hallway, and I turned around to find the older boy walking into his room. He noticed me instantly, flashing me an uncomfortable smile. He asked me what I was doing down here, and why I was reading. I didn't know what to tell him, so I just shrugged. He told me that I was different than a lot of girls he had ever seen, and that my dress made me look very grown up.

I didn't like that comment very much, so I gave him a small thanks and turned back to my book. He continued talking to me, saying that I must be very smart for reading instead of playing video games with the younger kids. He asked me what grade I was in, and if I've ever had any boyfriends.

I went upstairs, and I stayed with my sister for the rest of the night.

I never did see that boy again, and I don't ever want to. It's been years since that dinner party, and it was only very recently that I ever went back out there. 

It was for a boy named Sam. Me and him were never good friends, but he invited me to a party regardless. I had to bus out there on my own, and it took over an hour. I had been to parties before, but this was different from the others. There was something uncanny about it. Most of the kids there grew up in my neighborhood, or the neighborhood right next to mine, so we all understood that we didn't quite belong there. We found that the modern pop-indie music was growing tiresome, so a small group of us left the party for fresh air. 

It was the middle of November, and there was thick sheets of ice anywhere. I managed to scramble along with the rest of the group in my four inch high-heeled boots. I hardly knew these people, and only spoke to them a few times in school, but since we were all in the same situation we clicked instantly. There was Anton, Olivia, Sativa (yes, like the strand of weed. Her parents were weird) and Roman. We walked around the cul-de-sac, freezing through our tiny jackets. We shared a couple of cigarettes before heading back. I didn't end up going home until four in the morning, and that was the last time I've ever been out in the suburbs.

For the life of me, I don't understand that suburban aesthetic that's been floating around. Where I come from, there are no midnight bike rides with your sweetheart in the suburbs. There's no teenage rebellion, or underground punk scene. It's boring, but it's also more than that. It's unsettling. I'd like to fall into that suburban gothic lifestyle, just not here.

One of my favourite bands, Arcade Fire, brought my attention to the concept of a "suburban war," the idea of the political wall built around these neighborhoods being shot down. The idea itself is something that totally could happen, if the idea of the edgy suburban teen did actually exist. Suburbs were founded on racism. They were created to escape the inner city, and it only makes sense that they face their downfall sometime soon. I'd highly recommend listening to Arcade Fire's album 'The Suburbs.' It truly is a beautiful work art.