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Description
High school today is a nexus of subcultures defined by stereotypes, some new and some old, including the designer label prep, the pseudo-heroic jock, and perhaps the most outlandish of all: the lonely Goth. I use these terms loosely because in any one high school each category can be broken down even more exactly, since an entirely new lexicon of nomenclature has been built around them. Through the earlier years of my own high school career I was a goth, and as guilty as anyone of designating people into groups according to how they dressed or talked or who they hung out with. Many saw this experience as a waste of time, others saw it as a phase, my parents saw it as an embarrassment, and I see it now as a trap that was both necessary and beneficial to escape. What drew me in, what drove me away, and the insights I have gained, are essential to understand the newly amended train of thought which has caused me to see things differently. As people we are very similar because we need the same basic elements in order to succeed and survive. The psychologist Abraham Maslow suggests through his hierarchy of needs that after the physiological and security needs are met, the other three in order of importance from least to greatest are: belonging, esteem, and what he refers to as self-actualization. This implies that the difference between goths, and people society deem normal, are the means they use to achieve these common ends, and the largest social restraints we endure are those we construct for ourselves, as opposed to society at large.

Sullen, dreary and alone I walked the hallways of my school. The ideals of being a goth during that time in my life appealed to me on multiple levels. Their external appearance, consisting of entirely black clothes with a somber and humorless countenance to match, seemed to convey a high degree of intelligence and maturity ultimately lacking in my peers. Along with this, it commanded the respect and attention of those around me, or so my arrogance led me to believe, as I watched the eyes of people I passed between classes or at lunch shift uncomfortably as they took me in. Such power I felt in this; to have an effect on people that expressed itself so readily without me having to utter a single word. I relished this ability as my vanity grew, having come so far from the previous year when I drew as much notice as a piece of garbage beneath a cafeteria table. Being self-absorbed is at least a mild part of almost everyone’s personality, but being a goth, combined my newfound physical pride with my intellectual conceit and nurtured them into a dangerous and driving force in my life.

Shock value, however, was not the only aspect of being a goth that intrigued me; their stereotypical interests and outlook were also captivating. The general perception that goths adore literature, particularly stories and authors whose focus is the morbid and macabre like Edgar Allen Poe, adds to the notion that they possess superior minds, thus feeding my desire to acquire this trait for my own. My attraction and talent for art and creativity already existed within me, so in the process of my transformation I merely had to narrow the focus to suit my needs. The image of Death soon found its way frequently onto the pages of my sketchbooks, and occasionally onto homework assignments, usually in the form of a simple skull, or the sinister figure cloaked in ashen robes and garnished with a scythe. I was simultaneously revered and rejected by my classmates for my drawings, which on a small scale reflects the struggle of all teenagers trying to find their way, in addition to illustrating the beginnings of the second and most important stage of my metamorphosis.

At the commencement of my sophomore year I was confronted with a problem: the friends I had made over the last few years were becoming increasingly annoying. Rants about how poorly the government is governing, the teachers teaching, and their parents parenting were more and more often the subjects of their conversations. Topically they were sound, but their evidence was often either weak or non-existent, and their suggestions for improvement random, and at times outrageous. Their incessant giggling and nonsensical statements were always cynical and presented with wild eccentric gestures or bitter smiles of contempt. One day as I was recovering from a recent session of their idiocy I finally recognized why they had grown so irritating; they were behaving exactly like the classmates I had tried to escape in junior high. Having already been depressed by my inability to cope with the few friends that I had, this troubling revelation only furthered my submergence. No other option was left but to withdraw from everything that I knew and look upon the world with unbiased eyes, including the peers that I had long since abandoned and rarely spoken to. It was in this last desperate attempt, that I found redemption, but in a way that had never occurred to me.

Making an effort to observe my fellow students provided me with new and valuable information: they were no longer the silly, thoughtless children of my memories. Many had jobs and cars along with a budding sense of freedom and independence. They were taking the same advanced English classes that I was, and could analyze a piece of writing as well or better than myself. Most importantly though, according to Maslow, they were moving on to the pinnacle of his hierarchy of needs, self-actualization: “the intrinsic growth of what is already in the organism, or more accurately, of what the organism is.” In the time that I had spurned their childish games and insincere values they had been developing friends and their need for belonging was being fulfilled. While I was scoffing at their participation in high school athletics and making assumptions about any insecurities they may have had for needing to prove themselves, they were developing esteem by testing their abilities and experiencing victories and losses. In the same moment that I saw the path of their progression, I realized where my own had halted, and the trap the goth lifestyle had lain for me. Aesop’s fable, The Tortoise and the Hare, is a story much akin to this, with the goth playing perfectly the hare who falls asleep mid-race, while the slow and steady tortoise overtakes him unnoticed.

The trap inherent in the goth lifestyle rests in the idea that once that direction is chosen it is the only one that will be viewed as acceptable, because to change would be inconsistent and therefore less credible to peers. In an interview with Fox News’ Bill ’O Reilly, rock icon to the goth culture Marilyn Manson, says “It's always about being yourself and not being ashamed of being different or thinking different.” By permission and encouragement of these words, anyone, goth or not, should be able to make decisions to change their lives based on their own wants and needs versus what others want or expect them to do. I was so focused on how I thought the rest of the world perceived me that I took no interest in viewing myself, or taking into account what I needed or wanted from life. I allowed this to paralyze me, to rule me, because I was too afraid of the imagined consequences. Once past this, and able to see what it had done to my social development, I was able to grasp that it is far better to live as yourself, and by your own accord, than to let yourself be ruled by the expectations of whatever social class you subscribe to.

Description
High school today is a nexus of subcultures defined by stereotypes, some new and some old, including the designer label prep, the pseudo-heroic jock, and perhaps the most outlandish of all: the lonely Goth. I use these terms loosely because in any one high school each category can be broken down even more exactly, since an entirely new lexicon of nomenclature has been built around them. Through the earlier years of my own high school career I was a goth, and as guilty as anyone of designating people into groups according to how they dressed or talked or who they hung out with. Many saw this experience as a waste of time, others saw it as a phase, my parents saw it as an embarrassment, and I see it now as a trap that was both necessary and beneficial to escape. What drew me in, what drove me away, and the insights I have gained, are essential to understand the newly amended train of thought which has caused me to see things differently. As people we are very similar because we need the same basic elements in order to succeed and survive. The psychologist Abraham Maslow suggests through his hierarchy of needs that after the physiological and security needs are met, the other three in order of importance from least to greatest are: belonging, esteem, and what he refers to as self-actualization. This implies that the difference between goths, and people society deem normal, are the means they use to achieve these common ends, and the largest social restraints we endure are those we construct for ourselves, as opposed to society at large.

Sullen, dreary and alone I walked the hallways of my school. The ideals of being a goth during that time in my life appealed to me on multiple levels. Their external appearance, consisting of entirely black clothes with a somber and humorless countenance to match, seemed to convey a high degree of intelligence and maturity ultimately lacking in my peers. Along with this, it commanded the respect and attention of those around me, or so my arrogance led me to believe, as I watched the eyes of people I passed between classes or at lunch shift uncomfortably as they took me in. Such power I felt in this; to have an effect on people that expressed itself so readily without me having to utter a single word. I relished this ability as my vanity grew, having come so far from the previous year when I drew as much notice as a piece of garbage beneath a cafeteria table. Being self-absorbed is at least a mild part of almost everyone’s personality, but being a goth, combined my newfound physical pride with my intellectual conceit and nurtured them into a dangerous and driving force in my life.

Shock value, however, was not the only aspect of being a goth that intrigued me; their stereotypical interests and outlook were also captivating. The general perception that goths adore literature, particularly stories and authors whose focus is the morbid and macabre like Edgar Allen Poe, adds to the notion that they possess superior minds, thus feeding my desire to acquire this trait for my own. My attraction and talent for art and creativity already existed within me, so in the process of my transformation I merely had to narrow the focus to suit my needs. The image of Death soon found its way frequently onto the pages of my sketchbooks, and occasionally onto homework assignments, usually in the form of a simple skull, or the sinister figure cloaked in ashen robes and garnished with a scythe. I was simultaneously revered and rejected by my classmates for my drawings, which on a small scale reflects the struggle of all teenagers trying to find their way, in addition to illustrating the beginnings of the second and most important stage of my metamorphosis.

At the commencement of my sophomore year I was confronted with a problem: the friends I had made over the last few years were becoming increasingly annoying. Rants about how poorly the government is governing, the teachers teaching, and their parents parenting were more and more often the subjects of their conversations. Topically they were sound, but their evidence was often either weak or non-existent, and their suggestions for improvement random, and at times outrageous. Their incessant giggling and nonsensical statements were always cynical and presented with wild eccentric gestures or bitter smiles of contempt. One day as I was recovering from a recent session of their idiocy I finally recognized why they had grown so irritating; they were behaving exactly like the classmates I had tried to escape in junior high. Having already been depressed by my inability to cope with the few friends that I had, this troubling revelation only furthered my submergence. No other option was left but to withdraw from everything that I knew and look upon the world with unbiased eyes, including the peers that I had long since abandoned and rarely spoken to. It was in this last desperate attempt, that I found redemption, but in a way that had never occurred to me.

Making an effort to observe my fellow students provided me with new and valuable information: they were no longer the silly, thoughtless children of my memories. Many had jobs and cars along with a budding sense of freedom and independence. They were taking the same advanced English classes that I was, and could analyze a piece of writing as well or better than myself. Most importantly though, according to Maslow, they were moving on to the pinnacle of his hierarchy of needs, self-actualization: “the intrinsic growth of what is already in the organism, or more accurately, of what the organism is.” In the time that I had spurned their childish games and insincere values they had been developing friends and their need for belonging was being fulfilled. While I was scoffing at their participation in high school athletics and making assumptions about any insecurities they may have had for needing to prove themselves, they were developing esteem by testing their abilities and experiencing victories and losses. In the same moment that I saw the path of their progression, I realized where my own had halted, and the trap the goth lifestyle had lain for me. Aesop’s fable, The Tortoise and the Hare, is a story much akin to this, with the goth playing perfectly the hare who falls asleep mid-race, while the slow and steady tortoise overtakes him unnoticed.

The trap inherent in the goth lifestyle rests in the idea that once that direction is chosen it is the only one that will be viewed as acceptable, because to change would be inconsistent and therefore less credible to peers. In an interview with Fox News’ Bill ’O Reilly, rock icon to the goth culture Marilyn Manson, says “It's always about being yourself and not being ashamed of being different or thinking different.” By permission and encouragement of these words, anyone, goth or not, should be able to make decisions to change their lives based on their own wants and needs versus what others want or expect them to do. I was so focused on how I thought the rest of the world perceived me that I took no interest in viewing myself, or taking into account what I needed or wanted from life. I allowed this to paralyze me, to rule me, because I was too afraid of the imagined consequences. Once past this, and able to see what it had done to my social development, I was able to grasp that it is far better to live as yourself, and by your own accord, than to let yourself be ruled by the expectations of whatever social class you subscribe to.