By OLIVIA MURPHY – Public Relations Manager
“We as people, see materialism as an excuse, ‘Momma, why can’t I have a shiny car?’ Because you already shine would be the answer to a child, lost in a society where being normal is ‘out’ and being ‘plastic’ is in.”
It all began in elementary school. The idea of trying to keep a certain image around my classmates was a big deal to me.
Every day before school, my mother would pick out an outfit that she thought would look good on and appropriate for me. When she wasn’t looking, I would stuff it right back into my dresser and pick another outfit to wear, usually an outfit that I figured would impress a boy I liked at the time.
Cartoon by William Kissane
By the age of 10, growing up as the youngest of three sisters, trying to be “cool” had become all I could think about. If a group of students were wearing pairs of Nike shoes, they would look down at my scratched pair of Sketchers and simply laugh. On occasion, a rude remark would follow their laughter and I would walk away with a touch of red showing in my cheeks.
While they laughed and taunted me about my appearance, none of them noticed that their comments made me feel self-conscious — I always said that I was fine, when I really wasn’t. Sometimes I found myself sitting in front of the mirror wondering why I hated my appearance in the first place.
When I moved from Syracuse, NY, to Athens, Ga. to start sixth grade at Clarke Middle School, the taunting didn’t stop. The new friends I hung around liked to make fun of my clothes, even when I knew they weren’t trying to hurt my feelings on purpose.
I once owned a pair of black and pink Nike sneakers that were my favorite. They were a gift from my oldest sister Camille for my thirteenth birthday and I used to wear them all the time in school.
However, one day, one of my friends commented on a scuff mark that was on them and called them “biscuits,” which was his way of saying they looked too worn out for a 13-year-old to wear.
Afterwards, I put my favorite shoes right back into their box– if that was what my friend felt about my shoes, what would the rest of the school say about them?
Even as a high school student, friends still think it’s okay to make remarks about another friend’s wardrobe. Most fail to realize that their comments can ruin your whole perception of how you see yourself when they comment on the pimples on your face or the new hairdo you wanted to try out.
As I’ve grown and more accepting of my appearance, I’ve come to the realization that the people close to you can hurt you the most, even when they don’t entirely mean to. Sometimes the small material things society insists you own aren’t the things that make you special. It’s your personality and attitude about yourself that is more important than your image.
A new shirt or new pair of heels may make me look good, but nowhere on the tag does it mention that it will brighten my personality or make me feel extra special.
Out of all things that makes a person feel good about who they are, compliments are what make the biggest difference. Even though it was a while ago, I always remember the first time someone told me that I had a pretty smile — I had never noticed it myself.
My father has always given me advice with words of wisdom that usually find a way to go over my head. However, there has only been one expression that sticks with me when I take a look at myself in the mirror every morning before I go to school:
Monkey see, Monkey do. The monkey doesn’t have to be you.
