Bitch Lab reflects on another aspect of her own personal-to-political, winding up with:
It’s a weird feeling to have been marginalized and then accepted, all of a sudden, just because of one little thing that had changed about yourself. You went through a growth spurt and added four inches. It makes you realize how superficial the assholes are. But, you’re a kid and you want to be in the circle, so while you know you should just tell them to fuck off, you don’t.
So, I stayed there and resisted the only way I knew how: by trying to be everybody’s friend. There wasn’t anybody I wouldn’t hang out with. There wasn’t anyone I wouldn’t invite to sit at the table during lunch. I would insist on saying “hi” very vocally to everyone I knew, even while with the gang.
It was my way of saying, “Fuck you, fuckers.” (But, of course, if I’d really wanted to say “Fuck you, fuckers,” I should have just told them off, right? Once in awhile, I’d give some lip to one of the leaders, a completely nasty bitch who looked everyone up and down to inspect the quality of their clothes, always with a slightly curled lip.
This is why I had the best parties. When Bitch had a party, every fucker in that school was invited. I didn’t care if you were a stoner, a jock, groupie, artsy fartsy type, lived in a trailer park, a farmer, skeezer, geek (though geeks weren’t considered an “out group” in my school). Whatever. Everybody’s invited and if the in crowd doesn’t like it, fuck’m.
So, that’s why, when anyone gets on about someone’s looks or what kind of clothes they wear, my response is, “How fucking eleventh grade can you get?”
I don’t like the way people inadvertently hurt people. I don’t like the way people live in bubbles and don’t ever step out of it, live on the margins, and look back toward your fucking bubble and pick a frickin’ pin it. You’ll get wrapped up in yet another bubble, we all live in them. But the experience of stepping outside every so often, the experience of cultivating a kind of being in the world that helps grow your moral conscience is good for you. And it’s good for the world. It’s called maturity. But, maturity isn’t a state, it’s a process. We’re always maturing. Don’t ask questions. Live them.
It’s why, even though someone’s not hurting me, I get pissed when I know they’re hurting someone I care about. And, even when I don’t know anyone in particular, I know those people exist.