Judging - The Broken Mirror By: Mikealanglo Youghbor

Ever heard of, Blood on the Dance Floor? Visualize a rejected member and this kid would be the first image to come to mind. Upon initial sight of him I started to feel better about myself, because that's the type of lonely aura he gave off. Sort've like a Pepé le pew that gave up on women, then gave up on life. He had what my dad used to call, "The default look of dumb," which is when someone just looks like they lack sense due to their facial expressions, and his standby expression included a range from scrunched-up-Donald-Trump lips, to an unkempt scruff of grease to the side of his face that he flashes when he smiles. Lips almost a bright reddish-pink as if he sucks his lips like a lollipop all day, and a nose length that rivals that of the great Tony Hawk. If his dumbfounded look wasn't bad enough, his clothes yelled loud enough for Hellen Keller to hear. His plaid shirt screamed Cypress Hill, shaved hair screeched Linkin Park, ripped jeans shrieked Marilyn Manson, and the full set wondering what the hell do I want? Luckily for me I think that's a stupendously easy question to answer... "I want people to feel bad for me." Those words went around in my head like a carousel the entire time I looked at him, I mean that would explain those damn ripped jeans. Excuse my french but it's the middle of winter, if I wasn't supposed to feel bad for him then I deserve to feel irritated by this bubblegum, dumb-dumb clothing decision. It's like as if to make people know that his life has to be worse than the rest of ours. The holes were even in awkward spots too, as if to show he didn't buy them like that, and sticking to the monochromatic colors of black, white, and grey makes him seem even more gloomy. The more I observed him the more I realized he didn't talk much, even though his table was almost totally full! You know what that makes me think? It makes me think he wants an excuse to say that he's emotionally all alone whenever he feels there's a real problem in his life. I swear the same atmosphere you feel when walking into hot topic spurs out of him the way Pringles fly out the can when opening them too aggressively, and I swear to god he owns cat-eared headphones. Honestly, I'm willing to bet money on that...

Then it hit me that we both live in America. I am an African-American student at a majorly Caucasian school. What did that mean to me? It meant who the hell am I to judge anybody else by their appearance, especially when I know that the same things are being thought about me every second of every day, from walking down the street, to walking down the hallway. From being referred too has an, "N-word," to petty people switching up the side of the sidewalk their on because I'm there. (Honestly... literally happened in my neighborhood last week) So keeping that in mind I decided to look beyond what could just be seen, and I realized that he just didn't care... and that wasn't a bad thing. Wearing dark colors didn't have to mean it was gloomy, looking at him again I realized that his grays, and blacks matched. He stuck to a color scheme, meaning he actually may care about his appearances. He wasn't dumbfounded, the picture was taken at one of the few times he actually did speak. He listened to music not so that he would look alone, but because he liked to listen to music, and who is anyone to judge? That's the real message his clothes gave off, "I am who I am, and who are you to judge me?" Just that made me have to respect the way he came dressed to school, and the shaved sides of his head? Yeah the top was kept clean, which is a fashion statement for hipsters and metrosexual men, meaning that he knew how he looked, and it wasn't just thrown together, but instead it was as organized as a single file line. He didn't talk to his table much because he actually listened to what they had to say. When I took the time to compare what I thought about him to what people thought about me, I realized that I wasn't observing a stranger but instead I was looking at myself. We're always being judged, whether walking down the street, to sitting at a lunch table. We can't change our judgement, but we can change how we think.

Made with Adobe Slate

Make your words and images move.

Get Slate

Report Abuse

If you feel that this video content violates the Adobe Terms of Use, you may report this content by filling out this quick form.

To report a Copyright Violation, please follow Section 17 in the Terms of Use.