John Hoang – Entertainment Editor

For many of my school years, I have been riddled with an aptitude of shyness and eccentricity constantly inhibiting me from fully expressing myself. When it comes to meeting new people, I’m quite a nervous wreck. My tendencies of blushing at the slightest amount of attention received, avoiding eye contact and remaining silent unless spoken to sums up the amount of sociability I have with others. Because of my irregular habits my word count probably numbered to around 40 or less on an average day. I always felt as if my presence made other people feel uncomfortable due to my peculiarity and long awkward moments of staring.

Drifting through the halls of Legacy, I couldn’t find anyone else who was like me. I began to think something was inherently wrong with me, that I was damaged in some unexplainable way and needed to be fixed because I didn’t quite function right. I had only a few friends I could relate with, but even then I struggled to express my thoughts to them. My fear of being misunderstood alienated me from becoming closer to them.

To prevent these situations, I attempted to seclude myself hiding from the outside world. I developed an impenetrable shell I carried around with me at all times. It became a barrier, protecting me from anything I deemed harmful or upsetting. I developed a mental block, keeping all my thoughts to myself and restraining myself from doing anything around others. I was afraid of many things: being ridiculed, getting bullied, embarrassment and, most of all, not belonging anywhere.

Growing up and watching all manners of sitcoms and movies, I thought the social norm was to have an extroverted lifestyle, going out and being as loud and rowdy as you could possibly be. As a guy I was supposed to be into sports, working out and being upfront. It only made me feel more weird and alienated knowing I don’t possess any of those traits. I was into reading, philosophy, poetry, singing, writing, old movies and books, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, comic books and other things not quite socially acceptable.

I used to see my reclusiveness as a curse, but eventually I started to enjoy the little bubble I created for myself. No one touched me, and I didn’t touch them. I enjoyed sitting alone reading my books and not having to be a part of any drama. I was free of social obligations. I didn’t have to belong to any type of clique or hang around annoying or intrusive jerks. I could sit for hours on end contemplating what purpose human beings have on this earth, what lies beyond the known galaxy and finding answers to questions people have not yet discovered. I learned to become self-reliant, doing things all on my own. But even looking at some bright side of things, I couldn’t help but to feel like I needed to have a sense of belonging. For the longest time, I believed I would live the rest of my life like this, always an outsider.

Then I accidentally took journalism as an elective my sophomore year. I took newspaper on a whim because I had a friend who persuaded me to join. I found a guy named Leland Mallett, and he was probably the strangest teacher I’ve ever had. Upon meeting him I thought he was pretty lame, and he had the most punchable face I’ve ever seen. But I’ve grown to respect him and even see him as a fatherly figure. I quickly found out entering newspaper was the smartest thing I’d ever done in high school.

In Mallett’s class I found it was encouraged to have abnormal tendencies because the people in newspaper are quite strange themselves. Looking back at my past year, I’ve had several experiences with staffers, many of which I deem as bizarre. I got to know some of the most interesting people attending Legacy. But there was one person in particular that I hold in sentiment.

During my junior year, I walked into class a couple minutes late, instead of being reprimanded, the entire class applauded, led by Kymber Cullum. I remember my face burning with embarrassment and feeling abashed at the overwhelming attention directed at me. At first I couldn’t stand the overloading of affection. But I felt something else, a sense of irrepressible joy I always tried to conceal realized she was trying to reach out and bring me out my shell. It made me happy to see that. She has helped me in many ways I can never thank her enough for and I appreciate that.

In newspaper I felt like I belonged somewhere, and I never knew what that felt like. The class made a crack in my shell, one I didn’t think was possible. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel so out of place. I know now, I am not defective, I just needed to find the right people.

Maybe I won’t ever change completely. I’ll always be strange and awkward, but at least I found out what it was like to fit in somewhere, even if it was for a little bit. Despite how weird and peculiar I am, there was a group of people willing to accept me for who I am, and I’ll never forget that.