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My freshman year in high school my
grade got three new students. One was a
girl and the other two were guys. The
girl was short with black hair and kind of cute in my opinion. One of the guys was tall, skinny, and had red
hair with freckles. He was quiet and
reserved while the other boy, who was a little bit taller than the girl, was
loud and made his presence known as soon as he walked into a room. He drew attention to himself not only with
his loud comments, but also with his attire.
He dressed in bright clothing that seemed a little too tight for him,
and was sometimes on the borderline of feminine in my opinion. He spoke with a slight lisp as well, and
because of all of these things I made the quick assumption that he was
gay. I never treated him any differently
because of this assumption, except for the fact that I would get slightly
awkward whenever we would all have to change for P.E., so the subject of his sexuality
never came into discussion. I just had
it in my mind that there was a difference between the two of us, he liked guys
and I liked girls.
One day in the locker room all of
the guys were talking about the new girl that had joined our grade. The girls had played volleyball in P.E. and as
we were walking in from outside they were still in their uniforms. Comment after comment got exchanged as
everyone threw in their input into how good the new girl looked in her
volleyball uniform. Not too long after
the conversation had started, a loud voice erupted amongst the rest. “SHE IS SOOOOOO FINE!!” the new kid who I had
assumed was gay belted out. When I
looked around the locker room I could tell by the surprised facial expressions
that I was not the only person who had made this assumption. I leaned over to the kid and whispered in his
ear, “You think she’s hot?” He nodded
rapidly grabbing my shoulders and shaking me, trying to get me to understand
his excitement. I burst into a fit of
laughter, thinking about how silly I had been this whole time with my
assumption. I dapped him up and kept why
I was laughing to myself. Everyone in
the locker room continued with the conversation and I learned a lesson that I
had been told a thousand times over, not to judge a book by its cover. I had otherized this kid simply because of
how he dressed, talked and acted. I had
assumed we were completely different just because we weren’t alike in every
way, and I was wrong.
