Suburban Myth

Back in the lovely days of undergrad, when I was working diligently on an anthropology degree, I took an American Culture class. You would think we would discuss big important things like immigration and domestic policy. But you would be wrong. Mostly we discussed middle class white girls, like me. Girls who aren’t rich, but aren’t poor, go to their senior prom and have slumber parties. Girls who, when asked about themselves, say, “Me? I’m just…average.”

Which isn’t strictly true, but it’s what we’re taught to say. I’m not special, I’m just like everyone else. There’s a culture of fitting in as a typical white girl, because there’s nothing significant about you to really stand out. You blend, you go unnoticed, you try desperately to quietly and subtly stand out. It’s an oxymoron to the fullest degree. And it’s working against me.

At job interviews I find it impossible to talk about myself. “Me? I’m just your average white girl.” But telling someone you’re an average nobody does not make you into someone to hire. So I’ve spent a lot of time lately doing some soul-searching. What makes me, me? I’m loyal, but that makes me sound like a dog. I’m hardworking, but that seems like a cliché. I’m smart, but if I weren’t why would I be in law school?

I decided to work from a more specific angle. I studied flute for ten years. I know how discipline works. I can break down tasks into parts, three and four measure groups that get worked over and over again until they’re right. I can focus on one thing for a long time, but if I get overwhelmed by a project I know to walk away. Go back a step to what I know and try to work forward again, or just walk away entirely and go grocery shopping until I’m ready to try again. I can set goals. I need to learn the adagio by my next lesson, so that I can get to work on the presto, which is going to take quite a lot of time because of the intensity of the piece. I’m optimistic. It’s not going well today. Everyone has off days, I’ll try again tomorrow and things will get better. I can take constructive criticism. My technique is all wrong, and my posture is cutting off my air supply, but that can be changed with work. And even though I can take direction well, I’m a better leader than a follower. I can see the big picture, the overall theme of the piece, and I can see just how everyone’s efforts make up a whole project.

As it turns out, using one metaphor alone, I have all sorts of good qualities. I just need to learn how to talk about them to other people, and get past the myth that I’m “average.”