(...or courage if you don’t want to be coloquial or gender specific) to do the things we love or have a passion for, even if it means enduring rejection or ridicule. In the end, we want to be accepted, but sometimes acceptance comes at the cost of rejection, until we find the group we fit in with the most.
I come from a generation when bullying was not such a hot button topic. Kids who were different or didn’t conform to the status quo where relentlessly picked on, especially in the small town where I grew up. In middle school, I was guilty of bullying, and to this day, in some paranoid delusions, I’m expecting one of those kids to show up at my door with a weapon and say: “Remember me? *stab* ”
Then in high school, I was on the opposite end; trying to stand out, trying to be different, attracted the kind of unwanted attention any self-conscious teen disparaged.
As we grow up, there is still some tendency to look down upon “the other” or the marginalized. As much as we don’t want to admit it, we are guilty of judgment on some unconscious level. Part of growing up is to fight that tendency, turn our ridicule into curiosity, our curiosity into tolerance, and our tolerance into acceptance.
In college I began fencing. Although it is an Olympic sport, it is still seen as a mystery or fringe sport to the general public. That being the case, fencing at a large university attracted a diverse group of people. Many of them studied the Librial arts: writers, artists, dancers and actors. Those who were marginalized, different, or “weird”...so I fit right in.
Occasionally, the sport attracted some unexpected extremists. Those who were even too bizarre to keep our company. Mostly though, they lacked basic social skills, and no matter how much we tried to accept them, they eventually left on their own and it was through no fault of ours.
We also attracted different fringe sports such as the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronisms) who dressed up in armor and beat the shit out of each other with rattan sticks. And we thought we were weird. But come to find out they were just like us. They had a hobby, they were part of a group and occasionally we would hang out with them. But even when they tried to mind their own business, there would be ridicule; some douche bag in a big truck would yell or honk as they drove by...but who would talk shit to the face of someone armor clad holding a big stick?
Then I entered the education field, where if you do not accept kids as who they are, no matter how extreme, you are not doing your job and therefore doing a disservice to society as a whole. The job of an educator is to not only teach curriculum, but manners, tolerance and acceptance no matter race, gender, creed, or orientation.
Backtrack to fringe sports, or fringe hobbies for that matter. The “nerds” “weirdos” and “freaks” of my childhood have grown up and taken over the entertainment industry. I still don’t know what the fuck a pokemon is, but I’ll be damned if people aren’t making a million dollars a day on them. Gamers rule the internet, those “nerds” who played “Magic the Gathering” and read comics under their blankets at night are now making 6 figures without a college degree. Even when football and baseball are still dominate sports, fantasy leagues are no more than role playing games that D&D players would be bored with.
So sometimes it takes balls, and more and more people have the balls to stand up and stand out. They run the risk of being made fun of just walking out the door in the morning, but they do it knowing that they have balls and those people making fun of them don’t. Just like the SCA people practicing in a public park next to a busy street.
About a year ago I started HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) another fringe sport. We study and practice dueling with longswords and other edged weapons. Sometimes I hesitate to tell people about the sport I participate in, because I know everyone has the tendency to make fun of what they don’t understand. We practice indoors hidden from the critical eyes of passers-by. However, it’s in a Crossfit Gym and I still feel self conscious picking up a dull sword around some Crossfitters even though I know I’m in just as good a shape as some of them.
I see the people I practice with and fight against. They remind me of my old fencer friends, but these are professionals who mostly work in technical or marketing fields. What they have in common with the old fencers is they were probably “weird” or “nerds” or “freaks” and now have a common hobby and activity they participate in.
I’ve spoken to my wife about these people, how they may not be the most athletic, most social, most “normal”, but they know how to fight with swords! What kind of balls does that take? Good or bad, adept or not, they still put on gear and sling shards of metal at each other’s heads occasionally throwing one another to the ground...because they know how to.
I’ve seen the looks on some of the Crossfitter’s faces when we do drills. I can’t help but wonder what is going through their minds. Are they secretly making fun of us? Are they thinking “What good is learning to fight with a sword? Isn’t weightlifting more practical?” and then they give us space because they don’t want to be hit with a sword. But I may be projecting my own insecurities. They are adults too, but also looking for acceptance. Perhaps there is some secret respect, the tolerance that comes with maturity. I’m sure Crossfitters encounter the same douche bags; people who think they are better than everyone, that feel the need to make fun of the lesser, the weaker...the different.
In the end, no matter what you like or are interested in: do it. Have the balls to get out there. Yes, you may run the risk of ridicule. But you will be surrounded by a group that accepts you, that supports you, and there is safety in numbers. And it helps if you are all holding swords...
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