School, a fascist state?
A gorgeous post up at Emma Pass's (also a Lucky 13) blog. She talks about feeling like an outsider growing up, and wanting to fit in, and what it's like to finally find a group of people where it is enough to just be yourself. A lot of people commented saying how much they agreed with her (including me) and it made me wonder how many people felt this way growing up. Did everyone?
This is a theme I seem to be obsessed with, this idea of the individual within a friendship group or family or community or system, and the invisible insidious pressure from all around to conform to the group's ideals. At school it really is the most enormous all-encompassing force. Kind of terrifying when you think back. And creepy. And fun to write about.
Join us.
Isn't it a strange idea? To get all the kids to come along in the same clothes and teach them the same things as if they are all just the same as each other. No wonder hardly anyone learns anything. Eurgh, and you had to call the teacher Sir and Miss (note the strange sexism in the title difference) and put your hand up before you were allowed to speak. No wonder I used to be so naughty.
My new novel, at the moment at least, is looking into this idea of conformity, in a school setting. It's amazing to write, because I remember it all. It all comes rushing back to me when I sit at my desk. I remember the tiny things I worried to death about, and how afraid I was of standing out. It was like its own tiny little fascist state (without quite the focus on eugenics), except you weren't even sure who had made the rules in the first place. You just knew what they were and what might happen if you broke them.
Things you weren't allowed to do in my gang at my school:
Concentrate in class (square!)
Be nice to the teacher (bumlicker!)
Bowl properly/do your best at shot putt (lesbian!)
Ask boys out (desperate!)
Have sex (slag!)
Abstain from having sex (frigid!)
Ah, what fun we had... But Emma is right, all this not fitting in and feeling like an outsider, it seems to help the writing. It seems to be necessary or natural. Either born writers don't fit in, or those who don't fit in turn to writing. Who knows? I'm just glad that what has often seemed to be a curse has finally delivered some gifts.
This is a theme I seem to be obsessed with, this idea of the individual within a friendship group or family or community or system, and the invisible insidious pressure from all around to conform to the group's ideals. At school it really is the most enormous all-encompassing force. Kind of terrifying when you think back. And creepy. And fun to write about.
Join us.Isn't it a strange idea? To get all the kids to come along in the same clothes and teach them the same things as if they are all just the same as each other. No wonder hardly anyone learns anything. Eurgh, and you had to call the teacher Sir and Miss (note the strange sexism in the title difference) and put your hand up before you were allowed to speak. No wonder I used to be so naughty.
My new novel, at the moment at least, is looking into this idea of conformity, in a school setting. It's amazing to write, because I remember it all. It all comes rushing back to me when I sit at my desk. I remember the tiny things I worried to death about, and how afraid I was of standing out. It was like its own tiny little fascist state (without quite the focus on eugenics), except you weren't even sure who had made the rules in the first place. You just knew what they were and what might happen if you broke them.
Things you weren't allowed to do in my gang at my school:
Concentrate in class (square!)
Be nice to the teacher (bumlicker!)
Bowl properly/do your best at shot putt (lesbian!)
Ask boys out (desperate!)
Have sex (slag!)
Abstain from having sex (frigid!)
Ah, what fun we had... But Emma is right, all this not fitting in and feeling like an outsider, it seems to help the writing. It seems to be necessary or natural. Either born writers don't fit in, or those who don't fit in turn to writing. Who knows? I'm just glad that what has often seemed to be a curse has finally delivered some gifts.
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