No Particular Reason
“When I woke up this morning, I thought, ‘Hooray! It’s Tuesday!’ But then I asked myself, ‘Why would I be happy that it’s Tuesday?’” — Ned Fratus, March 8, 2005
Our friend Sarah once wore a silky blue skirt on her head every day for several months. I never asked her why. She was about five years old at the time, and if I had to guess, I’d say it was either a bold fashion statement, or an attempt to simulate the affect of having long hair, since sometimes I would see her with the skirt pulled back in a sporty pony tail or a sleek chignon. Her skirt/hair was obviously something that pleased Sarah while harming no one at all, and that was really all the explanation required.
At the time, I found it reassuring how many of the adults in Sarah’s world were able to confine their commentary on the blue skirt to a smile or a compliment about how pretty she looked. I must admit, I sometimes found it challenging. In my own youth, such variations on the expected style were referred to as “get-ups,” as in, “Where’d you come up with that get-up?” Unusual enthusiasms, we assume, require some sort of explanation, and almost anyone — parents, friends, police officers, total strangers — may demand that we explain ourselves, even when the object of our delight is patently innocuous. It is considered normal to love attending concerts, for example, but if you love singing aloud while walking down the street, observers will assume a cause: you are either drunk or mentally challenged. If you really love watching sports on television, that’s okay, but if your hobby is trigonometry, the only explanation must be that you are either showing off or trying to make others feel inferior. And if you, as an adult, chose to wear a blue skirt on your head, how many of your co-workers would be able to suppress the urge to ask why?
But if, as a culture, we haven’t evolved to the point where we can really allow other adults to love what and who they choose without being accountable to us, then maybe we are at least heading that direction with our kids. There must have been some positive outcome of the now thoroughly-discredited self-esteem movement, and perhaps this is it: we’re getting better at allowing them to like what they like without needing to apologize or explain.