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I started spending time with Kendra and her grade nine friends who were much friendlier than they had been in the past. Her friends accepted me, as I was now a member of their new religion, the cult of “Duran Duran”. Yes, I still got picked on, but as part of a group. The whole school was in the midst of Michael Jackson fever. So, my friends and I got made fun of for liking those so-called “British fag boys”. But the five of us stuck together and yelled back at them. Me and my fellow Duran Duranies, as fans called themselves, definitely thought we were more cool and cutting edge than the rest of the student population.
Our love of Duran Duran sent us out of the suburbs on Saturdays and downtown in search of others like us. It wasn’t hard to find others since we all stuck out in a crowd, with our short dyed hair and trench coats. My friends and I were slowly adopting the New Wave style of dress, similar to Duran Duran and other British bands of that era. We started to meet other girls who dressed like us, and even boys who dressed like this too. These boys were much older than us, usually in their late teens and early twenties. These boys were different from other boys I had met: they liked other boys; they were gay. My clique at school was inseparable that year. We went downtown every Saturday. Sadly, things changed for me that fall. Kendra and her friends entered senior high, leaving me back in junior high. They stopped coming downtown with me. I was left alone at junior high.
When I started grade nine I was a bit lonely at school without my clique to back me up, but in spite of this, I had a good year. Yes, I was picked on at school. People would make fun of my clothes and call me a freak. But these things didn’t bother me as much as they used to because I felt I was much cooler and style conscious than the rest of my classmates. I had my new cool friends downtown. My new best friend Ivy went through some of the same difficulties I did at school. Finally I had someone who understood me. My new guy friends were always complementing me on my clothes and hugging me. Finally I had found a place where I fit in
My attitude toward being rejected and teased was changing. Whereas before I felt they were laughing at me in school because I wanted to be a part of their group and was
denied access, now, I felt like they were mad because I wasn’t trying to be like them or be a part of their group. I felt like I was rejected THEM.! In fact, I made friends that year at school. There were a small group of girls at school who thought I was cool. They liked the same music I did and liked my clothes and hair, but they were too scared to take the bold fashion risks I took. They were scared that their parents would be mad if they dyed their hair or that the kids would laugh if they wore different clothes. I faced those consequences and found it was worth it. These girls looked up to me for it. My friends and I spent our lunch hours talking about music, clothes, and the people I met downtown. For the first time since I started school, I started to feel good about myself.
I reflect on how something as simple as liking some British pop stars affected such a change in my life. The first thing it did was make me a part of a group, an accepted full member. This was a group that saw it self as unique and did not need the acceptance of the so-called popular people. As I became a member of this New Wave subculture, I achieved something I never had before, a kind of popularity. It was not a mainstream popularity, but it was based on being different, hipper and thinking my self too cool for the mainstream. I was rejecting them the way they had rejected me. People started looking up to me because I was taking fashion risks that they were too scared to take. But then, some of those who were scared had more to lose than me; they risked not fitting in and being rejected by the mainstream. This was not a risk for me as I already didn’t fit in. I accepted this and found a new place to belong.
When I entered senior high (grades ten to twelve), I became disenchanted with New Wave, perhaps because it didn’t have a message beyond “be different”. I looked for something harder and darker that would express the anger I had accumulated over years of rejection. It was around this time that Ivy’s new boyfriend introduced us to Punk Rock. Ivy and I really identified with Punk’s message, songs about being an outsider and being proud of it. This message is typified in an early Punk movie called Suburbia. The Punks in this movie had themselves branded with the initials TR, meaning “The Rejected”. They identified with being society’s rejected people, and wore it like a badge of honor. In fact they used it as a catalyst to start their own group, where to be accepted you had to be rejected.
Finally finding a place to fit in
I was deeply entrenched in the Punk Rock movement when at sixteen I entered Saint John High, the biggest senior high in the city. The kids there belonged to many subcultures from preppy, to heavy metal, to Punk. The school had a pretty good-sized Punk Rock subculture. Once I was full-fledged member of this community, I enjoyed the rest of my senior high career. I even started dating. I was happy I had found a place to fit both inside and outside of school
I reflect on embracing the label of Punk, a movement that thrives on difference, being an outsider, and that prides itself on not fitting in, a group that laughs in the face in conformity. According to Leblanc (1999), joining the Punk Rock subculture, which is considered by society to be deviant, is an act of resistance. For Leblanc (1999), resistance “requires three distinct moments: a subjective account of oppression (real or imagined), an express desire to counter that oppression, and an action (broadly defined a word, thought, or deed) intended specifically to counter that oppression”(p.18) This accurately represents my journey to the Punk subculture; After year of oppression by peer rejection, I decided I was no longer going to let people pick on me. I thus joined a subculture that rejected the values of those who rejected me. I was doing what many subcultures in the last few years have been doing: I was embracing a negative label that others had given me and made it my own, thereby empowering myself. Suddenly being a misfit meant you were a non-conformist, politically conscious, intellectually superior, and a hell of a lot cooler. The people who had picking on me for years were seen as conformist, shallow, sheep following the herd.
The Punk Rock subculture, like any other group, had its contradictions. The rejected would some time reject one of their own for being friends with people from the popular crowd. Adopting any mainstream cultural habits was seen as a reason for expulsion from the Punk subculture. It seemed we had formed a group that was exclusive for the excluded, that rejected conformity but had an unspoken dress code and list of cultural rules to conform to. Were we that different than the people that excluded us? Yes and No. No, we weren’t different in that we too had unspoken rules and only certain people were welcome. But we were different in that inclusion in this group was under the condition that you had been rejected. This requirement differs from the rules for belonging to most mainstream social groups. The Punk Rock subculture gave those who didn’t fit in a place to belong, a place that didn’t hide how our peers treated us. We celebrated our differences and used it do feel good about ourselves.
Another Thanks to Catherine for sharing her story with us. It's been an incredible mini series, so I'm sad to inform you the end of the mini series will be coming your way tomorrow. Follow up will be Friday. So I'll be on the search for material! if you have something you feel you could contribute to the blog facebook me or e-mail me nancy.wood@mbsradio.com
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