9.11.2015

The Inclusive Misfit

This morning, I watched my firstborn swallow her animated boldness to don the ill-tailored costume of a timid wallflower. It was her first tumbling class, and she was the youngest kiddo, the only new student, and therefore did not yet have a self-selected buddy. She hung back as the more experienced students ran, hopped, and jumping-jacked their way around the small dance studio. And I felt every one of her feelings.

I was a misfit as far back as my memory is reliable. There was nothing more incredible than finding that other misfit and finally having someone to stand next to, someone to giggle with, someone who didn't care about fitting in or adhering to others' standards. Because it wasn't that I wanted to be included with the other girls; I recognized our differences enough to respect the cordial boundaries we set at even the earliest of ages. Still, I consistently yearned for someone who "got" me.

And God was gracious to me in that. I met many other girls and boys, gals and guys, who were just "off" enough to get along with the masses but not go along with them. We formed covalent bonds the likes of which only the marginalized know. But that was not where things ended.

See, it would be too easy to form a sort of reverse-discrimination clique, full of snark toward the rest of normalcy. I saw that kind of thing, I tried it out when I was young and angry, and it left a bad taste in my mouth. No, to be more accurate, it sickened me. Why do to others as it has been done to you?

I serve a Savior who broke bread with tax collectors and prostitutes, a God who loves the downtrodden and the orphans. How then could I isolate and then alienate?

So, instead, these misfit friends and I inadvertently attracted other stragglers - ions, I suppose - into our universe. We created adventures and relationships and conversations that engaged other outcasts. We might as well have carried a blazing neon sign that read, "Feeling left out? Join us!"

And this is the lesson I want to share with my kids. I want to grab each one of them every day and sing to them, "It's okay if you don't fit in. Don't try to! Find others who share your values, your interests, your taste for life, and then journey with them. Bring others along - you are no better or worse than anyone else."

The hard part is that this type of lesson often comes through empathy, which means my words won't be enough. They will need to feel lonely and left out. This tears at my mama heart, and I pray that I won't get in the way of the experiences God puts in their paths to give them a greater sense of compassion. Including today's tumbling class.