Out of the Closet

This morning, my trip to the park included an unexpected tutorial from a 10 year-old boy on Yo-Gi-Oh cards. He went on and on about how this card had so many destruction points and that card had so many life force points (not sure if I have this right, it was indeed a very involved discussion - at least on his part). He was very excited about entering in a Yo-Gi-Oh tournament. In short, he was a very geeky kid. The kind that gets made fun of on the playground. But he didn't seem to care he was a geek. And when he noticed Jane's arm, he asked the standard questions. After I offered my standard explanation, he said, "Oh! It makes her special. We all have things that make us special".

On my walk home, I realized how thankful I am for geeks. I can now openly admit what I was too ashamed to say during my childhood years: I am proud to be a geek. I recall in third grade when the teacher held up a misplaced Anne of Avonlea book, I was too embarassed to claim it as mine in front of the whole class. All I wanted was to be cool. By the time high school rolled around, I had embraced my tendencies enough to join the speech team, but still turned down the High School Summer Institute invitation when it arrived my junior year.

But when I entered college I decided to come fully out of the closet and declare my intentions to become an engineer. I was finally proud to be a geek. And when it was time to decide upon a spouse, I knew only a geek would do.

Thank goodness for the geeks on the playground who see differences as special. Thank goodness for the geeks in high school who think that Calculus is cool. And thank goodness for the geeks who design safe cars, systems to deliver clean water to my tap, the glorious internet and artificial hands that open and close when the wearer flexes a tiny muscle.

When I was a kid all I wanted was to be cool. Now that I am a mother, I hope every day that my girls will be geeks.