Pencil cases, hoodies, and Linkedin
They say "Don't judge a book on its cover", but unfortunately, we're not books. We are humans, constantly putting personality on everyone, regardless of whether the person labelled feels comfortable or hot. This ubiquitous penchant entraps both the "labeler" and the "labelled" in an endless ride of identity crises. I learned this lesson from three ordinary things: a pencil case, a hoodie, and Linkedin (yes, the job-searching website).
1. The pencil case
I could not describe how relieved I was when I graduated from elementary school. Not because elementary school teachers were allowed to beat students in Vietnam back then - in fact, far from it. In short, I was "that kid", but only academically. Socializing was a nerve-wracking rollercoaster: few of my classmates bothered talking to this nerd about how the sky is blue.
But then, in grade 4, my "social status" within the class skyrocketed - because of a pencil case bought in the U.S.
The summer before grade 4, I travelled to the U.S for a family visit. During the trip, we went shopping at a mall right when Back to School sales were in the spotlight. For a third-world country girl, I saw the Smiggle shop in the mall as heaven. I took that as an opportunity to buy a battalion of stationeries, from macaron-shaped erasers to bendable pencils. Before leaving the shop, I didn't forget to get a three-layered pink pencil case, fully packed with colored markers and pencils. Honestly, I absolutely had no intentions of buying that pencil case to impress my friends at school, simply because "trendy" wasn't in my dictionary (ask my friends now and you'll still get the same answer). I bought the pencil case just because it went along with a set of colored markers and pencils inside - perfect for a girl fond of drawing.
When September started, I brought the new pencil case to school. When I took it out from my backpack, I got marveled mixed with envious stares from the girls in my class. After a few conversations about how I got the pencil case, people who rarely talked to me before started ... borrowing my stationeries more often. I was no longer "the nerd" in their eyes but became "the kid who used American stationeries." My "reputation" for the rest of elementary school was bound within a single pencil case.
Most of all, no one bothered to find out that Smiggle was an Australian brand.
2. The hoodie
I still remembered the first time I put on a hoodie: in grade 8, a literally fresh-off-the-plane immigrant in Canada. The scorching weather in my home country Vietnam only allowed me to put on loose cotton T-shirts, denim shorts, and sometimes ponchos in the rainy season. Hoodies, with their long sleeves and thick layers, were considered highbrow fashion for kids who were fortunate enough to attend schools with air-conditioners. Therefore, when I arrived in Canada, I couldn't help marveling upon seeing almost every kid in my middle school with hoodies of all sizes and shapes. To me, my Canadian classmates looked exactly like they'd just stepped out of high-end fashion boutiques in Vietnam. Somehow, climate factors decide who wins the fashion lottery.
So when I arrived home from my first day at school, I asked my mother right off the bat to buy me some hoodies to "fit in." After some inevitable whining, I finally could get her to drive me to the town mall. However, right when I saw myself dressed in my first-ever hoodie, all the excitement fluttered away like a candle by the wind. The sleeves drooped below my arm. My round figure, a thing I detested, was even accentuated by the flat fabric. A thought flashed: only Canadian kids, who practiced hockey 3 hours a day and have slim figures, could only look good in hoodies. As much as I tried to fit in, the hoodie didn't.
3. Linkedin
Flash forward to a year later, I moved to Vancouver. Moving right at the start of COVID-19 added up to the difficulties of settling down across the country. Still, I managed to get used to life here, such as the semester system, the importance of land acknowledgements, and bumpy bus rides. Within a few months, I regained my usual confidence at school, whether it was online or face-to-face. To be honest, I even loved remote learning, as there were no longer awkward group projects and dreadful presentations in front of the class. Oddly, it was this period of remote learning that hit my self-esteem the most. It all started when I became eligible for a Linkedin account.
A few months after my 16th birthday, I created an account on Linkedin - not because I needed work immediately, but to search for future opportunities and connections that would prove necessary. I started browsing for new connections around my school (don't set the bar too high). Sure enough, they popped up like mushrooms. What I didn't expect was that those highschooler's profiles were so polished as if they belong to Silicon Valley tech CEOs. A non-exhaustive personal profile (summarized info for privacy) of a student from a Vancouver school would be like this:
Jane Doe
Student Researcher and Aspiring Pre-Medical Student
(insert an endless space for my insecurities)
Honors & Awards
- More than 10 Science fair awards
- Founder and President of an international club
- First-Aid certifications
- TEDX speaker
- Guest on a morning TV show
Granted, seeing such accomplished people should be a motivation for me to strive even harder. Also, I can't deny that professional networking sites are great for creating connections. However, instead of getting motivation and determination from those people, I felt only inadequacy and insecurities seeping in. After falling off the podium of self-esteem, I ached on the ground - profusely. Comparison has gone up to a whole new level: people started comparing their professional/academic achievements like their body image to Instagram models. But thank heavens, I didn't pull an all-nighter study session like people eating cotton for losing weight. I soon wondered when 95% of the I encountered on Linkedin were high school students who went around shoving awards rather than real work experience. Yes, creating a polished profile would impress potential employers but isn't that the job of a resume instead of some social media page? Just as people say, a post on Instagram doesn't define a person's character, and your classmate's science fair award on a social media platform doesn't represent them. The earner does it.
Long story short, after some self-doubt and a night munching BBQ potato chips, I realized that doing what I love is the most important. No matter where I am at, from home to school to work, I will do what I feel the most passionate about. Even though it takes some guts to write these lines, this is what I feel good about. Not a trendy pencil case, immaculate body image, or a math/debate/whatever team leadership position. To put it in another perspective, don't immediately put brands on others before you put yourself in their shoes. Don't judge someone based on their outfits or their belongings, even positively like in my case. That is the origin of stereotypes of prejudices, and I'm sure you can't hear enough about their devastating impact on a person's identity. So please, love yourself and respect others because this is the best thing you can do. After all, who forced you to come to this world but yourself?
go go go ale ale ale:)) amazing good job em
ReplyDeletethank you^^
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