I’ve been a rebel my whole life. It’s just that many people don’t know it. I do a lot of rebelling in my head, or when your head is turned. Some people call this passive-agressive. I call it “style”.
I don’t necessarily rebel against anything that matters, but I have an inherent sense of when things are fair and when they’re not. And since life is mostly not fair, I am annoyed a great deal of the time. I want to make it fair. I’m also secretly certain that if most people would just listen to me, we’d have peace on earth AMEN. But they don’t, which is why we still have all those wars and stuphs.
When I was in junior high, I had this choir instructor that would punish the entire class for a couple of idiots being stupid. We had to stand on the risers ramrod straight for over an hour. This hurts. She also said that since it was such a large class, if we felt sick, we should just go to the bathroom. So when we all got punished, I went to the bathroom. I was a good girl, so no one thought to go check on me. I hung out in the bathroom for the rest of class. Fairness achieved.
I don’t believe the way anyone else around me believes. In the highly conservative state of Texas, part of the illustrious Bible Belt, I am a liberal Democrat agnostic. And probably a commie or a socialist, no one seems to understand which is which but both are bad words to Republicans, so I really don’t care if I’m called those things or not. And though I’ve tried to go to church at various times in my life, I finally stopped because I sensed -wait for it – unfairness. So I quit and now I’m going to hell or something. Most people thought that anyway, so I figured if that was they case, why be miserable in church?
I don’t follow parenting rules. La Leche League, who are not frightening militant wackos at all, believe Breast is Best and Everyone, probably even men, should breastfeed if at all possible. I’m only slightly exaggerating here as transgendered people and women with mastectomies are also made to feel guilty for not attempting breastfeeding. It’s unreal. I was told by many I was essentially a child abuser for giving my children formula. They would have allergies. They would be fat. They would get sick all the time. Their IQs would be low. Because studies say! You know – studies! My kids are brilliant, healthy, have few allergies, and are the skinniest kids I’ve ever seen. I’m gonna call bullshit on that one. If you want to feed your baby that way, I think it’s wonderful and wholeheartedly support you. But lay off of me. Formula feeding moms get a bad rap. That’s not fair. So I don’t like it. I rebel.
Someone once asked me if I just like rebelling for the sake of it. But it’s not true. I can’t help believing the way that I believe. My mother believes I came into this world a liberal feminist, and swears she had little to do with it. When I was in kindergarten, one of my first memories is being cheesed off because the boys got to go out and play while the girls had to sit and cut paper skirts. We were supposed to like that better cause girls. Wrong! My parents have similar religious and political views, but that has little to do with me. There are plenty of things about them I have no desire to imitate.
I see it much the way people who have deep faith see it. I could not feel any other way. I could never, ever vote Republican. I just can’t. And it’s not simple prejudice either. Deep down, I feel like we are supposed to help people less fortunate. I think we need welfare, and food stamps, and affordable health care. Everyone should be able to eat, have shelter, get basic medical care. Everyone.
I know, it’s far out and I’m completely bonkers. Much better to fight about stuff like whether we should say “Happy Holidays” or not. Because you know, if you say that, you’re saying “Screw you, Christmas and your little Santa and baby Jesus too!” Yeah, no. If you say happy holidays – you mean happy holidays – all holidays, including that Christmas one. You know where holiday freaking comes from? Holy – days. ZOMG!
Some might ask, well how to pay for this stuff you want? Easy. We pay with our money. All that money that goes to invisible bridges, congressional salary hikes, excessive military spending, and the one percent who sit in their houses and fill up their barns. Guess what? If Jesus comes tonight, you ain’t takin’ it with you. Guess where this heathen got that? A Bible! Sometimes there’s some pretty cool stuff in there, once you get past the rape and murder and all that.
But can’t we all just get along, Alice? Sure. Once everyone does just what I say, it’s all gonna come up roses. Then I won’t have to rebel anymore. Till then, I’ll continue, even if there’s no point to any of it. Cause I’m Alice. Rebel without a point.