It is always great being the one inside looking out, mocking all the people who wish they were you, who wish they could be friends with you, or who think they are as good as you.
Bullshit. Whoever you are, if you have that attitude, you are a jerk and a half, and I loathe everything you stand for.
I am in the process of getting a huge, HUGE reality check. All that stuff about Montana being God's country? I feared I would take it too far, but here it is: totally romanticized bullshit.
It is, to a degree, God's country, for the people who refer to themselves as "natives". It is a wonderful place where you can go have conversations with random people in bars and spend the night with them (I did this once with an interior designer named Lori, and we went bar hopping after talking for an hour) or going out with your buddies and getting drunk off your you-know-whats, or even going to the football game and cozying up with strangers as you all cheer on the home team.
I was born in Great Falls. I hoped that this fact would lend itself to my admittance into the "in" crowd. The very plain and simple (and very painful) truth of it is that being a native is knowing the right people, knowing the culture, knowing the ins and outs of the place you are from. If you are an outsider, no one likes you, you are instantly judged, and people start a crap load of gossip about you, even though they haven't bothered to ask you what or who you are. Apparently I am a lesbian, sleeping with the girl who was brave enough and kind enough to be my friend. No one has asked me if this is true or not. In fact, the most I get out of ninety percent of my coworkers on a regular basis is silence and a turned-up nose. If I say hello, fifty percent say hello back and casually ask me how I am doing, the other fifty are broken into a ten percent of "hey, I want to know more about you: let's talk!" and forty percent, "oh my God, it's talking to me."
And I though Gig Harbor was snotty.
While the money and uptight air that presented itself to me back home was stifling and made me feel constantly judged, I feel like an exile here. I have done NOTHING to make you people think that I am a bad person. I have done NOTHING to give you the idea that I want to take all your secrets and sell them to the government to spy on you. I have done ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to allow you the right to look down on me like a second-class citizen. I am not here because I am trying to steal your land or your guns. I am not here to bastardize your culture by playing Hollywood's version of cowgirl. I am here to get back to my roots, to learn, to broaden my horizons. And all you can do is snub me? You all are some pieces of work.
You are not better than me. You are not more cultured than me. You are not tougher or smarter or kinder than me. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME. So what the hell gives you the right to walk on past me without so much as a kind smile and a hello to make me feel human? How would you like it? How would you like to be thrown in a strange place and treated like a bug on the floor? I am working my ass off to make this world a better place by exhibiting some compassion, and all you can do is ignore me when I greet you?! And here I thought the Seattle Freeze was bad! Jesus, people, are you so uncaring that you can't take in a young woman, miles away from home, with no family or friends nearby to speak of, under your wing? I'm not asking for dinner and a movie or anything! I just want a human connection so I don't feel so damn alienated! Is that too much to ask?!?!?!?!
Obviously, I feel a little passionate about this. Obviously, I am feeling a little crazed. But why shouldn't I? I spend most of my day crammed in my dorm room, hiding from the leering eyes that condemn my every move as "outsider". I spend nights awake, crying, wishing I could go home because everyone here is too stubborn and pig-headed to let me in. I haven't done anything wrong! I will not let you punish me for simply living! Get over your self-obsessive ideals that outsiders are not welcome. If that were true, you would have a serious issue with inbreeding, and I don't mean your cats. Stop acting like the rest of the world thinks you are : a bunch of crazy hicks. I know you aren't. I know that you are becoming engineers, or that you've been sign-makers, or that you love the Body Exhibit, or that you secretly want to marry Audrey Tautou. I listen. I hear you. I understand. If I am willing to look beyond your stereotype and appreciate you for the human you are, I don't think it would be that much trouble to take a moment and ask me, "So, what brings you to Bozeman?" You will probably make my day, especially if you really listen. Stop treating me like a leper. Start treating me like a peer. Don't be the haters that you are making yourselves out to be.
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