Unconventional/Tensions

There's something in me that won't let me start without a disclaimer. It's a bad habit. My friends hate it. But I just have to say that this post is not meant as "woe is me." It's not a lament at all. It's more of an observation and recognition of where I've come from, where I am, and who I am.

Sometimes it's exhilirating to be different. Sometimes it's maddening. Sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes it's hilarious. Sometimes it just is.

Okay, what the heck am I talking about? I guess just me and my uncategorizable nature. There are things that set me apart. Then there are even things that set me apart within that set-apart-ness.

1. I grew up in different places. I was a military brat. I hate how after so much time, not having a hometown or roots to speak of still makes me slightly sad. I say Montgomery is my home since I've had a home base here for going on 14 years, but I'm still not a native. All I have to do is open my mouth to confirm my non-native status.

2. I am a minority. I mean, in the traditional, racial sense. And that's cool. I'm glad I am who I am, and I was raised to be proud of it. But I'm not "black" in the traditional (read: stereotypical) sense. I was not raised in a majority black environment. So, after moving back to the States and to the South, and being placed in situations where I was in a majority black environment, I was (and many times, still am) woefully out of place. (Opening up my mouth did me in then, too.) It's something that still bothers me in weird ways. Though I'm thankful for my diverse upbringing, I sometimes feel that I've missed something from not being enveloped in an expected identity. When you are a minority in the traditional, racial sense, certain things are expected of you from black and white alike, and I found myself cringing in the middle. It's something I quixotically hope to rescue my future children from.

3. My faith takes me completely off the map of convention. If you know anything about being Apostolic, you'd know that "conventional" and many times even "orthodox" is foreign. I don't complain. I am thankful God has led me where He has. My faith is strong, and I hold it dear. Being led by God requires being set apart, and that's fantastic. But what occasionally gnaws at me is the fact that within this circle of unconvention (within the huge globe of the conventional), I am unconventional. My political views are skewed. My goals are unorthodox. My existence as a single 26-year-old who hasn't "made a mistake" (and no judgment passed on those who have--God is merciful, and I'm certainly not perfect) puts me in a rarely visited niche, even within the church. Though I believe that God has placed me where I am for a reason and I have no desire to leave that place, I am not an amen corner. I am down with what I (and definitely the majority) consider the fundamentals, but I am not down with a few ideas that flutter about them (and that puts me in the minority). My oddity and discomfort within the conventional globe as well as my oddity and discomfort within the unconventional circle makes for some interesting, sometimes agonizing tension.

I'm always doing stuff no one else does. Memories of being a library aide. Wearing "glorified shorts" in PE. Being the only one to take 5th year Spanish in high school. Reading Billy Budd instead of The Things They Carried. Going to an academic magnet school and not taking any AP tests. Being the only double major in my Education cohort ("Well, it's different for Chantell, but for the rest of you . . . "). Staying home and watching Spanish gossip shows on Friday and Saturday nights with Blanca instead of barhopping in downtown Madrid. Driving 9 hours to St. Louis by myself for a conference no other Alabamian attends. Traveling to Minot, North Dakota for fun. Being a non-Latino black person who speaks Spanish. (The double takes I get while speaking it in public are hilarious.)

I know this sounds slightly melancholy, and it kind of is. Maybe bittersweet is a better word. But before I get too sentimental, I have to say that I know I'm not the only one who experiences this. I'm not some kind of anomaly. I know. But writing this has helped me recognize that my "tensions" make up who I am. I can't wish it to be otherwise without wishing not to be me. I can appreciate the joys and amusement of non-conformism, unconventionality (yes, I made that up) and uncategorizibility (that one, too) as well as bear the loneliness of it all. I know that my "tensions" are what make me happy to be alive and overjoyed to be where I am at times and so disillusioned at others that I feel my only recourse is to join the Peace Corps and spend the rest of my days relentlessly pouring myself out in a third world country to feel I belong. Tensions are a part of life. I suppose life would be kind of boring without them.