New month, new Indie Web Carnival submission to overshare personal stuff on the internet. This month it’s hosted by Joe Crawford and the theme is “Masks, Identity & Cosplay”.
I’ve never cosplayed or been fond of costumes. My parents never let me celebrate Halloween so I didn’t have any costumes available. But continuing with the theme of childhood memories, there are some canon events that may have defined my identity, and how or why I tried to mask it. One of them is probably the only cosplay I’ve ever done and will ever do:
The Shrek cosplay incident
When I was 8 or 9 years old there was this annual event where they divided the school into 3 teams and they competed through different kinds of contests in a sort of Olympics. My classroom chose me for the costume contest. Naturally, the day of the contest I showed up to school in a FULL SHREK COSTUME.
I had painted my already bushy eyebrows black. Green face, green neck, and green hands. Wearing a Shrek vest, shirt and shoes. Topped by a green hoodie with Shrek ears. I even had a pillow below the shirt to fake a Shrek belly. The full package.
Note: please mind that this is early 2000s in a South American country. Cosplay wasn’t even a known thing here. As successful as Shrek was, it still wasn’t the cult classic it is today. At that time kids my age were trying to look cool and edgy, and my Shrek costume as good as it was, was the complete opposite. I wish I could have done this in the era of Shrek memes.
When I got to school, the awkwardness was off-the-charts. Not because of my wacky costume or the awkward shoes I was wearing.
It was a normal school day.
Imagine tens of kids entering school in their uniform in perfect condition and a green blob of absurdity in between them. I had to skip the usual salute to the flag we did on Mondays because my teachers didn’t know how to explain to the principal why I was in that costume. I had to be in math class in a green Shrek suit with a green face because they didn’t give me time to remove it. I had normal street clothes in my backpack so when I got the chance in between classes, when no one was in the classroom, I hid in the back of the room, undressed, cleaned up the green ink from all over my body, and put on my normal street clothes.
Turns out everyone had left because the contests were starting, and guess what was the first contest? Costume contest of course. All that humiliation for nothing, and now everyone was mad at me for missing the sign-up.
I don’t remember much after that.
The eyebrow transgression
During that same year, there was another incident where I humiliated myself, got sent home, and got grounded for months.
In that school, the religion class taught kids Catholic stuff, and since plenty of children weren’t Catholic, for them there was a special class called “Valores”, where we were supposedly taught moral values. Since my dad was Protestant I was sent to that class.
In general I’m glad I was sent there. It was fun, we played a lot, and we had a lot of time to just goof around in class. Emphasis on the goofing around. One of the most common activities we had was making board games about moral values. Think game of life stuff, or snake and ladders but instead of snakes it’s doing bad things, and instead of ladders being a good kid.
We were usually split into groups, and I was never good at crafts, nor a natural leader. So my group just ignored me and didn’t let me do much. So I was there, with my scissors having nothing to do. Normally in cases like that I’d just sit and do nothing. I’m fine with doing nothing and just wander into my thoughts.
Note: Adults always told me I was “viviendo en la luna”/“living in the moon”. Which meant something like having my head in the clouds. Because of that I had trouble following classes, but on the other hand it helped me be fine with spending time by myself.
I’ve always had bushy eyebrows. I didn’t want to have bushy brows. I wanted to be cool. So, in my daydreaming session, with a pair of scissors in hand, an idea crossed my mind. Without giving it a second thought, I took the matter into my own hands. I lifted the scissors at eye level, grabbed my bushy right eyebrow with my off-hand, and cut it.
Laughter bursts all around me. Suddenly I wasn’t as invisible as I thought I was. The teacher melted down into a mixture of desperation and rage. I was sent to the inspectory (our version of being sent to the principal’s office) where I was scolded.
This was the last class of the day, and when it finished I was sent to get my stuff surrounded by laughter from other kids who had heard the story. When I got home my dad was waiting for me. I got scolded, received the belt treatment, and was grounded for months until my eyebrow would grow back.
I’m the awkward new kid, after all
Next year I was sent to a new school. My parents thought I was a victim of bullying in the previous school (I was not), probably because I’ve always had very few friends, because of the eyebrow episode, and because of getting into a few fights.
Note: At the time of writing, I’m just noticing why my parents sent me to a new school. I never knew why and they never told me but I’m finally putting all the pieces together.
Because of my ridiculously bad entrance tests, my day-dreaming tendency, and coming from a less rigorous school, my teachers thought I was dumb (I used to have really good grades in my previous school, and once I convinced myself I was not dumb I did better in this new school). My new homeroom teacher was something like Miss Trunchbull from Matilda. In order to get good grades out of us she humiliated less performing kids and pitted the rest against each other. (Well, that’s how I remember it. The reality might be more nuanced). So in this classroom if you weren’t smart, you weren’t cool either.
Naturally during the first few weeks or months I just sat on a bench eating an apple or whatever I was sent to school with, while watching kids play. Sometimes I’d watch kids play ping-pong, or taca-taca (foosball, table football). Only after some time had passed a pair of classmates invited me to play with them. They became my best friends.
And that’s when I first heard the label: “Eres raro, Daniel.” I’m not sure of the correct translation but I’d say it’s “You are awkward/weird, Daniel”. That label stuck with me throughout all my school years. Thankfully that didn’t make me a target of bullying, but I wasn’t cool either. It didn’t prevent me from making friends either. But it did make me feel inadequate during all my school years.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I was the awkward kid, after all. I’ve always been different whether I wanted to be or not. I was never able to like football. I was never able to get as into RuneScape as my classmates were. I never got as into Pokémon cards as my classmates did. Even when I tried to join my friends in MMOs I was lonely and helpless IN THE MMO. I didn’t lack friends either. It’s just that I was weird.
I spent all my school years trying to escape that label, only to get even more awkward in the eyes of others, and sometimes accidentally making classmates feel bad. Like that time I shouted that the girl I liked had weird dots in her face to avoid being mocked myself for liking her (everyone liked her, why did I have to be embarrassed about that???), only to make her cry and storm out of the room.
Maybe if I hadn’t pushed myself to be a cool kid and have many friends I wouldn’t have done so much weird stuff. Maybe if I hadn’t forced myself to be talkative even when I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have said so much weird stuff (and also I wouldn’t have hurt others’ feelings a few times, yikes). Maybe if I had let myself just wander around with my few best friends or daydream alone during recess I would have enjoyed myself so much more than by trying to fit in with the rest of my classmates in failed attempts to be more popular. Maybe if I had embraced that awkwardness and accepted myself as I am (or as I was molded by the circumstances), I would have had a better time in school.
I’m an awkward fellow, after all
These are bittersweet memories for me. Some of these moments were awful for me at the time, but nowadays I can’t help but laugh when I share them. They are part of what I am now, and I’m thankful for them. Because I’m happy with who I am now.
A few nights ago I was with my wife getting ready to sleep and she asked me for a cup of tea. I awkwardly got up with a degenerate grin on my face, rubbing my hands as if I was the mutated combination of Mr. Burns, Pedro Pascal and Sheldon Cooper and said “Pero no se diga más!”. Something akin to “Say no more, m’lady!”. “You are awkward, Daniel”, she said. We both burst into laughter. I don’t know why I did that. It just felt like what I had to do in that situation. My young self would have been embarrassed by acting like that but now I’ve come to terms with myself. I’m an awkward fellow, after all.
Note: I think the original Japanese for the Dan Da Dan reference would be best translated as “I’m clumsy, after all”. But the “I’m an awkward fellow, after all” version fits so well for this post that I couldn’t not use it.