Friday, November 11, 2005

Dear Mikee

“So okay, give me your name and tell me something unique about you,” said our new Communications teacher. I was the first person at the end of the first row, and it just so happened that he/she/it chose my end.
“My name is Lizette Lanuzo.”
“Come again?”
“Lizette Lanuzo po.”
“Ah okay…well? What’s unique about you?”
“Ahh…uhm…can I just answer that later?” I stuttered, and hated myself for doing so.

Until now, I don’t know what happened. I pride myself in knowing myself. I am, after all, self-centered. Selfish, and other adjectives in the same vein.
But then, the question.
What is unique about me?
Is it the fact that I own Bogart, along with her lice eating talents? Or that my fashion sense is as mercuric as, well, mercury? Or that I’ve written a song which when any person hears he/ she goes crazy over? Or, maybe, that I learned how to play the guitar from my second year PEHM book which only dedicated only about five pages to the topic.
What is unique about me?
What I’ve mentioned above seems to answer the question. But I don’t feel so! Those things do not make me unique! It makes only a certain part of Lizette unique. But it does not make Lizette as an individual unique.

A block mate said that she is unique because she likes classical music. Another one said that she loves ketchup. The others mentioned being an intellectual jock, being friendly and cheerful, disliking vegetables, hating manggang hilaw…and so on. Someone simply said that she is not unique at all.

Uniqueness these days seem to be a prime commodity, to be priced, labeled, and bought.

“What?” exclaimed our Comm teacher, “I’m teaching a class full of drones?!” He/she/it said it as if being a ‘drone’ is the ultimate sin. In a world where uniqueness and therefore individuality is as important as branded shoes and clean toilets, it seems as if ‘drone’ is equal to ‘dunce’ is equal to ‘loser’ and must therefore be kept secret if not plastered on your forehead.
Consequently, we have learned to brand people according to the established stereotypes as dutifully taught by the media, our family, our church, and other such major influences. There is the ‘Nerd’, ‘Punk’, ‘Ms. Goody Two Shoes’, and ‘Overweight’, to give a few categories. So how can we expect people, even ourselves, to understand who we really are and appreciate our uniqueness if from the beginning we have been judged and victimized by the shallow classifications of society?
Uniqueness is not something one has, does, thinks, and says. I do not believe it can be labeled, or described. How, with the billions of people on this planet, could one be completely sure that one’s specific trait deemed unique, unique at all? It’s the little something about the person you can never quite…put a finger to. You just know it’s there, and you sense it every time you’re with the person.

Well, Mr. /ms. Mikee, this one is for you.
I don’t know what’s unique about me.
I don’t really want to know and I’m proud that I don’t know.

There. I’ve answered your question.


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