My hair was always blue. No, I wasn’t born with blue locks, but ever since preschool when I drew myself with long blue hair in art class, I knew it would.
During my childhood, my parents were tunnel visioned, they were strict, and my dad was never wrong about anything. From an onlooker viewpoint, my parents were hard on my two siblings and I, but to the extended family, they cared, they wanted to protect us and wanted the best for all 3 of us.
I’ve learned that throughout history, there has always been subcultures and minorities. Minority groups have shown themselves in a variety of ways, in race, ethnicity, religion, and differences in interests. Subcultures such as the Flappers from the 1920’s, Greaser’s from the 1950’s, Hippies, Punks, Sapeurs and even Elevator Enthusiasts. My parents didn’t like
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I suddenly became part of a subculture, an act that my parents would never allow. I became part of a subculture that didn’t even exist in a small town in Iowa that only has one stoplight.
Throughout my high school career, the top of my head has been every color of the rainbow. Now, being in my senior year of High School, my hair is once again blue and I am a role model in a school that has fewer than 300 people. I used to be the only one in school with what was considered “abnormal colored” hair, but as I walked into the first day of senior year, I looked around and saw ten other people, some freshman, some returning students with colored hair. I am an example to those in the minority who prefer to have piercings, awesome updos and dress alternatively.
My strong drive to be independent and be unique, proved to my mother and father that it’s okay to be different. It’s good to be yourself. Before you pass judgement to someone, you must first question yourself. In order to be successful, you must accept yourself for who you are, then and only then, will a whole new world open itself up to