Raise the youth to never believe in dictated declarations of legitimacy. No dress code, no code of conduct, implicit nor explicit politeness are needed when a person is anchored in a deep sense of empathy and truth. When a child is taught the protocols of love, no rules are needed to prevent hatred or curb a mean spirit; that growing inner compass has pain and joy as the true magnetic forces and then social norms help no one.
In my first taste of adulthood, I prepared to live outside and beyond, to look out at the world from a platform set aside. Some good people reminded me that true north never forces others to look up and true south in fact, leads one along the same path. To remove yourself is the same as to admit defeat, to let others dictate the game and to abdicate any right to the medal. I wanted to be a contender and while in the match, to change the rules, to force a reconsideration and blast away the scoring guidelines. So I put on the uniform, got the credentials, signed my name, passed the tests and infiltrated.
Waking up to wipe off the eye charcoal, brace the breasts to be strapped down, pack away any sexuality back into the bedroom, and show up clean. With my colors neutral, they can continue to project any history onto me, keep me safe from myself. But that safety and respectability bullshit has got me exhausted. So now I will try to bend the world to my will, not follow the dictated gravitational pull, levitate, and if it fails, crash back to earth. At least then it will be honest and true. Fan-fucking-tastic.