The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [52]
IN THE MINDS OF their peers, too often students become caricatures of themselves. They are reduced to stick figures, save a “weird” feature that others blow up into mythic proportions and then use as an excuse to dismiss them; they gather by the freak tree, for example, dye their hair pink, or unself-consciously display their emotions. Throughout the course of reporting The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth, I encountered many fantastic kids considered weird. To me, they seemed to be the type of students whom classmates were too quick to judge, students who have so much more to offer than is evident during a forty-minute class or a quick lunchtime glimpse. To me, they seemed to be the type of students whom others should be proud to befriend.
Suzanne, one of those students, is not popular. A senior at a Georgia private school, she wears band T-shirts and grungy jeans that kids make fun of. Classmates tease her for spending a disproportionate amount of time in the art room. They don’t necessarily dislike Suzanne, but they don’t invite her out on weekends. In seventh grade, classmates posted nasty messages online about her. “Whore,” they called her. “Slut.” “The ugliest girl.” Suzanne was bewildered. She was thirteen. She had never kissed a boy.
Today, some students refer to Suzanne as the artsy girl because it seems like she’s always off doing art projects. Some call her an indie kid because she doesn’t listen to the same music they do. They continue to exclude her. She just doesn’t seem to think like everybody else.
Laney, an eighth grader in Indiana, is not popular. She’s the kind of girl who dances randomly in public, occasionally gives human names to inanimate objects, and once tried licking her cat just to see how it tasted. (She concluded, “It tastes like cat!”) Her friends tell her that some people don’t talk to her because they’re too embarrassed to be seen interacting with someone that far down the social chain.
Students have called Laney creepy because she wears dark clothing and has “a death glare.” Many have asked her if she is emo, but she says she’s “too weird to be emo.” She just doesn’t seem to behave like everybody else.
Allie, a sophomore in northern California, is not popular. Students have picked on her since elementary school. Most recently they jeered at her in the cafeteria line because she unabashedly wore a black felt bunny hat with long floppy ears that grazed her shoulder blades. Allie watches anime frequently and plays Warhammer 40K, a miniature tabletop war game set in a fantasy world.
Classmates give her the same label they give other students who differ from the in crowd: They call her a freak. She just doesn’t seem to interact like everybody else.
Flor, a junior in Oklahoma, is not popular. She never plays sports or runs around with other kids. Students call her a slacker because she turns in assignments at the last minute and she dropped out of school for a while. They make fun of her ethnicity. At school, a white boy asked her recently why she didn’t “act more Mexican.”
“How are Mexicans supposed to act?” Flor asked.
“You’re supposed to wear a lot of makeup and have a boyfriend, wear lots of jewelry, and speak Spanish all the time.” This upset Flor, who is proud of her heritage. It didn’t upset her nearly as much, however, as when people told her “go back to where you came from.” Flor was born in the United States. She just doesn’t seem to assimilate like everybody else.
Suzanne, The Artsy Indie
There’s a reason that Suzanne wears plain, grungy clothes to school. She spends as much