The other day my Daughter insisted on showing me these pictures on the internet of these girls with "Scene" hairstyles, which is apparently a new fad. The style involves teasing your hair up into a big mess and dyeing stripes in it here and there, until the end result basically looks like a raccoon crawled up onto your head and died with a pink bow in its mouth. On one of the sites where one of these girls had posted photos of their cool new hairdo, the girl went on to complain about people staring at her in public because she was "different" and they couldn't handle her "being herself." Now folks, I may not be as old as I look, but I've been around long enough to witness at least a dozen permutations of this nonsense. I heard it from the punks, the thrashers, the trashers, the goths, the geeks, and the freaks. It's always the same line.
I'm not trying to pick on teenagers here. God knows, they're confused enough. As far as I'm concerned, they can string Christmas lights in their hair if it makes them happy. I'm just tired of hearing them defend their fashion choices in the name of individuality. I've got some news for you, kid: If they have a name for your look, it's not original. It's not a showcase of your unique identity or an expression of your deep, inner self. It's just a fad. I don't care if you're the only kid in your school dressing this way. I don't care if you're the only kid in your town dressing this way. I don't care how weird and outrageous you look. I don't care if your parents hate it. I don't care if you're getting funny looks from the old people at the mall. It's still just a fad. You have joined a herd. You are a follower. You're not "being yourself"; you're being a sheep. Baaaaaa.....
Now, I don't believe in much, and I've gone through countless changes over the years, but if there is one thing that I have always and will always hold sacred, it's thinking for yourself. This is where true individuality has to start, with your mind, not with your clothes. It starts on the inside and works its way out, not the other way around. You have to flip the light switch and get the power flowing to your brain. Question everything. Think about everything. Don't walk the well-worn path if there's a more reasonable and clearer way to the truth. Find the ideas and the convictions that will serve you best in life, and don't compromise them for anything. Like the things you want to like. Listen to the music you want to listen to. And wear what you want to wear, not what the internet tells you the non-conformists are wearing this year.
I realize that true individuality is no easy accomplishment, and I almost can't blame these kids for looking for a short-cut, but I'm afraid there isn't any. People have treated me like I was weird my whole life. It's not something I aspire to. It's not even something I'm proud to admit. I'd change it if I could, but it's an unavoidable consequence of the fact that I do things my own way. I look normal enough, but anyone who spends enough time around me eventually starts to give me that sidelong glance. No one takes me very seriously, and most people think I'm a fool. I've come to accept that, and I can only hope that I'll get the last laugh. Somewhere along the line, these kids figured out that "different" people get treated this way. So they put on a costume that guarantees that they'll get the same reaction, then they take that reaction as validation of their individuality. Sorry Billy, it doesn't work that way. It's nothing but a cheap substitute. You might even call it a defense mechanism. After all, it's a lot easier to get ridiculed for the counter-culture clothes your wearing, than for revealing a vulnerable part of your true self.
Some people might look at all this with an indulgent smile and say, "Well, you know how teenagers are. They're just trying new things, and trying to figure out who they are." I couldn't disagree with this attitude more. A person's best hope for achieving independent thought lies in their teenage years, when their minds are naturally looking for their own ideas and their own identities as they venture out into real life. If they accept some substitute, placebo form of individuality, then they risk never knowing the real thing. The raccoon-haired girl will grow up and get a "normal" hair-cut. She'll car-pool, make vegetable trays, and take her place in that thick grey herd of adult banality. She'll be embarrassed when she finds those old pictures of herself. She'll consider individuality as a phase she once went through, and a way she once did her hair, instead of realizing the open road of possibility that it could have been.
I think that would be a real tragedy.
