Being Yourself is Lonely, but You're Not Alone

It is not a secret that I love the Harry Potter series.  I think it is an unprecedented phenomenon and its legacy will surely turn it into a modern classic.  I have actual ink under my skin to show my appreciation for the novels, and I’m not ashamed of it.  They are my favorite books.  I’m aware that there are literary works out there that are very brilliant, but Harry Potter was my first and greatest love, therefore, based on principal alone, they will stay my favorite.  With that being said, I’ll delve into a story about the first day of my spring semester.

I was looking forward to one specific class for two reasons: it was my first class for my English major (finally), and it was being taught by my guidance counselor, who I found particularly smart and I was reassured that he would be a good professor.  The class certainly did not turn out to be as spectacular as I expected. 

(Just a side note: I’ve always felt a little bit like a black sheep at my college due to the fact that I’m a commuter so I don’t really see anyone outside of class which leads me to having very few friends at the college. I also know that, as a person, I don’t fit in.  Not to say that I don’t wedge myself in sometimes, but it’s exhausting forcing friendships.)

When I sat down for this English class, I could almost tangibly feel the aura of separation from everyone else in the room.  Appearance wise, I don’t blend in.  I was surrounded by girls with long, straight, highlighted hair with Michael Kors bags, and Starbucks lattes on their desks.  I wear an Eskimo coat, sweaters that declare “The entire cat population is my best friend,” and my hair looks like a stereotypical hockey player’s haircut. 

My professor wanted to make a point to get to know everyone a little bit, which I appreciated, until he told us to answer the question, “What is your favorite book?” (Perhaps you can predict how this story will end).  As people were introducing themselves I had an internal debate with myself about what I should say.  I knew what my answer was, but I also wanted to impress my professor with something more “sophisticated.” That was until my more confident Julia woke up and told my timid little Julia to buck up and be herself.  So I decided upon my answer and started listening to everyone’s responses.  They said things like French poetry books, great American epics, or titles I had never even heard. 

After each person went, my professor commented about their answers, asked them questions about why they chose that/why they liked it, etc.  I was starting to resort back to being timid, but confident Julia was staring at me with that look she gives me sometimes and I had to be brave. So my turn came and I said Harry Potter was my favorite.  A couple of girls across the room started snickering at my response. My professor looked at me, nodded briefly, and said “Thank you,” then looked at the person behind me.   I was so embarrassed I just wanted an invisibility cloak. I was the only person to be snubbed by the professor, and I was the only person in the room to say something other than things similar to Jane Austen.  

I left the classroom feeling so small and insignificant until I opened my phone to Twitter, and saw that a Harry Potter fan page had posted a collage of pictures of Neville through the movies and it made me smile. It’s the only time I’ve been grateful for Twitter.  I walked out of the classroom feeling shunned for speaking from the heart, but at the same time I was reminded that Potterheads are awesome.  We are empathetic, and are scientifically proven to be less prejudice than people who haven’t read HP.  I felt connected to the fandom and it made me feel included.  

The moral of the story is to never let anyone make you feel small or insignificant for being passionate about something. To whoever is reading this, you’re bloody awesome.  If you ever feel unappreciated, just know that you’re special and I think you’re spectacular. Don’t let the muggles get you down!