I used to have really long and wild red hair. After I got my first buzz haircut in eighth grade, my hair continued to grow back curly and untamed. Teachers told me to brush my hair, and believe me I did. My hair style just never worked out quite like anyone anticipated. The way my face would color was quite bizarre and by college, I looked like Lion-o from the 1980’s cartoon Thundercats. I used to wear a ratty old Grateful Dead t-shirt and some dark green cargo shorts from Old Navy. Going to college in the cornfields of
I remember walking to a physics class during the fall of my sophomore year. I lived in the Phi Tau house across the street from the physics building. Since I lived so close, I often waited until the last minute to get ready and that day I couldn’t find my shoes, but I still had to go to class.
Maybe it was growing up in a relatively large city, or my southern flare, but I obviously wasn’t like most other Midwesterners. This was the first occasion that I really remember hearing the question, “John, why do you have to be so different?” People were confused with my ways. Most students wouldn’t walk out of their rooms without gel in their hair and I walked out barefoot.
I wasn’t that different than the students at Purdue and the friends in my fraternity. In fact we had a lot more in common than not, and I still remain great friends with many of those people today. But I didn’t see having to be the same in every aspect a requirement or priority of friendship. We didn’t have to like all the same music. Nick liked the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync and I despised both of those groups. I wouldn’t even listen to Metallica. But that wasn’t what was important. We shared similar values, although not always the same, and we listened to each other. And this was enough to teach me that just because everyone else is wearing their shoes doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with walking around barefoot.
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