For me the "Different" was the stigma of growing up "Poor" in America. (You can fill-in your own blank there, as the case may be.)
Not as hard a road as some, yet still hardly a piece of cake. (Hmmm ... cake.)
-- Psst! Look at that kid wearing second-hand clothes ... Can you imagine?
-- Hey, Look at that guy with the sack lunch ... eager to take anyone else's left-overs. Ugh what a pity.
-- What!? You don't have a Phone!? {a laptop, a car, a tutor, a vacation home?} ... What is wrong with your family?
Kids can be so brutal -- so brutally honest sometimes. Especially the well-to-do kids. But hey, that's just the way they were brought up. That's just the way they look at the world -- from their perch of plenty.
That's just the way the cookie crumbles ... in America.
Maybe they can learn a thing or two, from my lowly status; by the way I maintain my forward-looking outlook, despite my circumstances? "Life is what we make of it," I used to routinely say ... to those who would directly express their pity for me.
Though I did my best to wear my "stigma" as a badge of honor, as a show of character, as a mark of distinction -- all that did little to quell the gnawing sense of doubt, like the constant specter of hunger never far off:
That somehow I did not quite measure up in "society's eyes." That somehow I was already deemed a Failure, before I had even gotten started.
But hey, "Who said Life (or society) was ever supposed to be Fair?" ... I used to routinely hear ... from those suffering from a short supply of tact.
Well I was determined to "fit in" to society's expectations, so I set mind and my energies to improving 'my station' on life's stage ...
-- I got my first job at 16, feeding the horses and cleaning out their stalls.
-- I got my second job at 17, and figured out I was pretty good at Office work.
-- I got my first car at 18, although calling it "a car," was being generous. It got me to work. I could retire my bicycle.
-- I topped the honor roll term after term; and finished the High School obstacle-course as Valedictorian. With a Science Achievement award to boot.
-- I got my first "full-ride" scholarship to a major University, in my Senior year.
-- I had lots of friends by then, because I turned my {Difference} into an asset. And people are attracted to strength, and honesty, and yes even being "different" sometimes.
But then the College years started ...
I was back to being a Little Fish in just a Bigger Fish Pond -- one with even meaner Fish.
I was back to being a poor, work-study kid, from the small town -- with no academic credibility.
-- Hah, you were Valedictorian out of a class of 220 -- You call that an accomplishment!? I should have been so lucky, my graduating class was well over 800.
-- What do you mean you don't know Geometry, and you want to be a Math Major? Who are you kidding?
-- Hey Dude, don't you know that living in a 'Triple Room' in the Dorm -- instantly spells 'Loser'? ... What is wrong with your family?
College Kids can be SO mean --
SO intentionally mean sometimes. Especially the well-to-do kids. But hey, that's just the way they were brought up. That's just the way they look at the world -- from their perch of privilege.
That's just the way the cookie crumbles ... in America. For someone brought up poor, like me.
It's looks like, I still have my work spelled-out for me.
I had better roll-up my sleeves and get busy -- Afterall I've seen this show before.
And it's really up to me, to write my own "happy ending" ... into the story. As per usual.
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A number of decades later ...
"Life is what we make of it," I am still often known to say ...
Although the stigma of being "Poor" has long since gone, the feeling of "not being good enough" in society's eyes, still remains alive and well ... and kicking, like the hunger for actual justice, and fairness, and equality in Life, for Everyone. No matter which side of the tracks, you might be from.
You see trying to live up society's expectations can be such a losing game sometimes, in the economically tilted-system ... which still favors one class over all the rest ... in this theoretical land of "plenty and opportunity" ... otherwise known as America.
We had better roll-up our sleeves and get busy -- Afterall we've all seen this show before. Those of us who grew up {different} that is.
And it's still really up to us, to write our own "happy endings" ... into all those different story-lines. As per usual, as the individual case may be.