I Can't Wait To Say All The Things You Can't See, All The Things That Make You Better, 'Cause I Can Say All The Things You Can't See

--"Like U Crazy", Mates of State

Back in high school I was a joiner. Partly it was to buff up my college application, but partly my need to be in as many clubs as I possibly could stemmed from the need we all have. I needed to belong to a group. I needed to identify myself with a collection of people with the same interests. Yes, I've always regarded myself as some lone wolf figure that no one can quite understand, but it's always been my dirty little secret that I wish I could give up being so different and just act normal for once. High school was probably my one best stab at doing what I was supposed to do in a manner that I was supposed to do it. I joined service societies, academic societies--hell, I even tried out for basketball and tennis while I was there--all in an attempt to finally fit in.

For the most part, it worked. If you looked at my yearbook resume it seemed I was a busy bee, working with various groups all over the school. However, if you asked me, I would have said I still didn't feel like I fit in. I had friends, sure, but I never really got the sense that any of those groups I was in ever really shared the same ideas or philosophies as me. If anything, I felt like I had to sublimate my own ideas just to fit in.

That's the conclusion I've come to, that as much as groups band together people with the same philosophies and ideals, they also narrow the opportunities people have to discover new philosophies and new ideals. Even from my first exposure to groups, the infamous beavers vs. squirrels game we played at Bethany, where belonging was the whole point of the game, it seems that's all that groups are good for. It hasn't changed so much now, even twenty or so years later. At Bethany, you were either a beaver or a squirrel; you couldn't be both. Yet if you asked any one of us what the difference was between the two groups, I doubt if any could have given a coherent answer. Yes, we were in first grade, but that still didn't change the central idea that the number one criterion for belonging to one group was the absolute despising of another group. The philosophies didn't matter, the ideals didn't matter--the central point was that you weren't with another group. That was the lesson we had come to understand even at that young age.

I've always held a higher standard for belonging to any group. Never one to be pigeonholed, I've always sought out groups for what they had to offer, for what they espoused and not for what they reviled. I've always sought to belong to groups that could say all the things I didn't know how to say yet, that had figured out my beliefs even before I even knew had those beliefs.

Yet time and time again, I run into the idea that once I affiliate myself with one set of people, I couldn't associate with another set. I couldn't possibly listen to indie music and pop music, or rap music and country. I couldn't possibly like chick flicks and straight-up action films. Or, worse yet, there was no way I could have close friends that were of a different upbringing, age range, religious beliefs, political beliefs, or race than me. It seemed the more I chose to identify myself as being one thing or another, people wanted to classify me and tell me what I had to exclude.

Again, I've never had all these hang-ups that most people seem to have. I like what I like and that's all I need to know. I don't care what the background is, what connotations they evoke, or even the possible stereotypes that come along with it. I'll believe what I want to believe and damn the rest.

It's even worse when people make assumptions for a group you've joined that you have no control over. Just because I'm in my thirties doesn't mean I have nothing in common with someone who's much younger than me. Just because I'm Asian doesn't mean I like all things Asian or even anything Asian, for that matter. Just because I live in Los Angeles doesn't mean I love, love, love all things Los Angeles (especially their sorryass sports team). The more I learn about group dynamics, the more I realize how terribly faulty the notion of groups are.

What I've really learned is that the best groups are the ones that don't even consider themselves groups. Why ostracize anybody if you don't have to? The best groups really are informal groups of friends with dissimilar interests, dissimilar philosophies, and dissimilar age, race, economic, political, &c... backgrounds. The reason is simple. They don't discriminate for any reason, which is the goal every collection of people should be working towards. The way a group of friends work doesn't take a statement of beliefs. I don't need to know you're Republican or Democrat, in high school or college, that you grew up in the South or the Midwest, or half a million other labels to divide us. The only thing you need to know about groups of friends is whether or not you trust somebody. That's an instinctual thing that you can't teach people and that you can't see right off the bat. It's something you can't put a label to.

In high school I looked for groups that I thought I believed in.

Now I see it's all about looking for people I trust in. I find those people and we all form a group that believes in each other and doesn't apply labels to one another. I don't care if you're gay or straight; gun nut or peacenik; foodie or vegeterian; fifteen or fifty; career academic or slacker pothead; red, yellow, white, or black; squirrel or beaver--the only two groups I'm interested in dividing the world into are:

People I trust

People I don't

That's the only distinction that matters to me. All the other bullshit of how they choose to express themselves or distinguish themselves just falls on deaf ears. I don't care enough about anything else about a person to love them despite my not trusting them or hate them despite my trusting them completely.

Just give me someone who can say all the things I never saw before and I'm good (and just make sure they're not a Yankee fan.)

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers