The deodorant analogy.

I ran out of deodorant by the end of the month, and I knew that meant trouble.
This might be a very atypical situation in most of the world, but in my house, the whole deodorant thing always prompts arguments and discussions. One could trace it back to the time when my dad managed all his money and we, the remaining members of the household, had to ask him for money to satisfy any need. I kind of got what I needed, but the bureaucratic nature of the process started this nonconformity in me that has not stopped until today. "Do I have to explain that much why I need a deodorant?" Well, then mom was in office and I was given a monthly salary and that fixed the problem of the begging for toiletries... for a while.

The scene moves to today. I've been asking for a deodorant for four days. This is not the first time this happens in the year.

I'm not a student anymore, so my salary was removed. I started working, but I haven't gotten my paycheck yet because my boss pays monthly. Wherever you see it, finances-wise, I'm screwed, and that's why I had to undergo the painful process of asking for everything again.

I could just wait until I get my deodorant and rest for the time being, but the reason why this whole deodorant issue gets under my skin is because of my mom's behavioral patters that this simple act of not buying that little thing reveal. This is not new for any kid: PARENTS DO NOT LISTEN! You can tell them what really matters for you, but your words will simply turn into something else in their minds and end up meaning something else, usually something unimportant. My mom does that. She goes shopping, buy the deodorants for the whole female population of my house (3/4 of the total members) and forgets mine! Then, since she's unable to admit that she's a terrible listener and that she had in mind what she thought I will need instead of my real petition, she will say a lot of reasons of why I don't need the deodorant just now. That's plainly absurd! "It's been only three days since you told me" Yeah, mom, only three days in which I've had to use my sister's, with the floral scent and all. And all of the sudden, I'm working, I should have money, and I spent too much in other things... And here's when I decide to swallow it and shut the fuck up. Right, mom, you can't do me this $4 one favor, I've got it.

I come down to this: it is the whole attitude behind the act what upsets me. My mom is such a great person, but when it comes to accept that it is her fault for not listening carefully to what I'm saying, she goes so irrational. It is the only moment when nothing makes sense, when she's confronted to a parent's responsibility that she did not meet. I've seen adults doing this over and over again. It is true, I'm the son here, but, as my friend Sage says, parents can't keep winning arguments just because they are the parents. I need a reason, a coherent explanation, not a bunch of excuses and a display of self-justification. Throwing me a history of care and love won't make it either. I need to trust my parents NOW and know that they are listening NOW. I love my mom, but these small things make me unable to rely on her blindly.

Five minutes ago, mom came by my room and gave me cash - which she previously denied she had, to go and buy the freaking deodorant. Trust, however, has been broken for three days already.

All these started with a deodorant.

Money does not write e-mails.

I remember growing up and being told by my older sister that I should stay away from teaching. She is a teacher herself, so I thought the warning had a reason to be. They worked a lot and earned a salary with which becoming rich is unthinkable. However, as the time passed and I began making my career choices, it only became clearer that I felt passionate about instructing, even with the little money that brings.
Try number 1, this is my father making me choose law school because he wanted a rich lawyer in the family. Result: total failure.
Try number 2, this is my best friend talking me into working in call centers. Result: I hated working there, hence, a failure.
Try number 3, this is me double thinking my decision of staying where I work and get a job that, although I would hate, would get me money to go to Europe. Result? Yet to see, but I think there's a well established trend.
When it comes to career choice, money has not brought me any happiness. I thought about leaving my class for a graveyard shift as an online poker dealer, but what refrains me from shifting is thinking how I am going to feel there. The significant wrong choices I've made in my life have started with me seeking for money over self gratification.

I know this, money does not tell me that I did a great job. Money does not tell me that coming to my classes is enjoyable. Money does not try to talk to me in the breaks just to find out what kind of person hides behind the mask of the teacher. Money cannot be interested in listening my opinion about issues going on in the world. Money does not necessarily give me a voice. Money does not make sure I'm ok.

Money does not write e-mails just because it seemed in class that I was a little down. Money does not buy this kind of gratification, that you're actually impacting some lives.

There's No Shame In Being Young.

- I'm concerned about your looks. I hope it works, but you... you just look so young.

That was the way in which my employer kind of closed the deal. She was not hiring me for any ad campaign or anything in which my age or looks should matter. I was being trusted with the instruction of 5 English groups at a language academy: I had the degree, I had side experience, but I was still a little too young.

Next day, I showed up at work for my first class, and right immediately I felt the killer gaze of my boss, the principal of the school. I rushed to my classroom, but the lady is fast and intercepted me before I could get away with my new infraction, whatever it was. She came to me with her patronizing tone and familiar proximity. I knew I was in trouble.
- The way you do your hair is pretty much as the young people in this institute do it. You should comb it down.
- Oh - I exclaimed shocked - but I'm pretty much their age, they know it anyway.
-Yes, but you should avoid at all costs letting them think that you're one of them.
- Oh, I WOULD let them KNOW I'm the teacher. You should not worry about it.
- It is a good idea if you cut your hair.
- Oh, but I...
- I insist. It IS a good idea.
Wait a second! Is being a young person a sort of infraction now? I went to my classroom and performed my activities as expected, but for some reason I was not so eager to come to work again on Friday. It had been a long time since my age or the fact that I look and dressed youthful was an issue.

Right, I have been living in a rational world in which any argument has a logical counterargument and in which talent was praised regardless of the appearance. It was not until I came to this job that I regained some perspective of reality and discovered that there are still plenty of old-fashioned, old-schooled people for whom keeping appearances is as important as the real deal.

I ended up cutting my hair a little, but I couldn't help feeling defeated. To strike back, I wore converse next class. The principal sat me down in her office and gave me the old speech she has given to all the professors - she even took pride on that fact. "Now you, as the other professors, are wearing your hair like a man." I listened respectfully, poker face activated, waiting for my turn to speak and bring down some of the ridiculous prejudices. "There's no shame in being young" I said. "My hair is going to grow again, and I don't want to look old. I know many talented people my age that look even a little bit eccentric. I hope in time you will see that decorum has little to do with a fixed appearance that society established long time ago and that respect is earned, not imposed."

I'm doing my best to prove this point. Wish me luck.
Spread some justified rebelliousness.