I am Play - doh

I stood in front of the classroom with play-doh in one hand and a timer in the other. The quiet sounds of chatter amongst my fellow classmates eased the nerves that bubbled inside my chest. My eyes drifted across the small classroom, noting the many intrigued faces trained on the play-doh oozing from between my fingers. I smiled brightly at them and turned my head to my teacher. Nodding slightly to her, I turned back to my classmates and began to speak.

Ever since I was small, I have physically been different from most. In the sixth grade, I stood at five foot nine inches. Now in the twelfth grade, I stand at six foot one inch, falling far behind most of the guys. Though my physical difference surpasses that of most of my female friends, I have noticed many similarities among those around me. Many of my own ideas, as well as traditions, hold true to those around me. Most of my thoughts and beliefs are comparable to those outside of my family. My love for sports, makeup, music, and clothing is identical to that of people from different.

With those things in mind, I spent hours before my presentation thinking of ways to translate that into a physical item. Ideas whizzed through my mind, but none were ever what I really wanted to display. Finally, I thought of play-doh; it’s conformity drew me to it initially.

So as students had gone up before me and talked about their families, hobbies, and favorite foods, I had time to ponder my words. Who am I to lie to them? “I can’t sit up here and tell you who I really am. I don’t know who I really am. All that I know is that I am a product of society.”

Similar to the manufacturing of play-doh, I was born into this world as a simple ingredient. I had no sense of social norms. I cried when I didn’t have my needs met. I shied away from things that I believed were scary. No one could tell me who I had to like or dislike. I found things funny that most would not laugh at. I was me. I did not care what others thought of me; I was my own best friend. But then I went through a conveyor belt, where I was exposed to ideas and opinions of others. I was told who to be and what I should strive for in life. Opinions that used to be my own were discarded and effected by those of others. Now what I believe originates from people such as my mom, who developed those beliefs from her mother, and so on. All thoughts and ideas that go through my mind have been tampered with by those around me. Generations upon generations of human interactions has developed and shaped the way of life today.

I am a social norm, the final product. I have conformed to the many ideas of society and until I am told otherwise, I will always hold true to that form. I will always believe that my eyebrows should be on fleek until someone tells me otherwise. I will always love basketball until I am told it is not what people do anymore. Although those things hold truth, they do not make me weak. I believe that the knowledge of this makes me stronger; I will love these things more because one day they will be no more. As the last few seconds ticked by on the clock, I wrapped up my speech: “I can’t sit up here and tell you who I really am. I don’t know who I really am. All that I know is that I am a product of a manufacturer.”