What Shape is Your Space?

Originally written June 23, 2010 by me

Picture was pulled from
 Wikipedia - I believe it was
originally used in a CNN
 article in 2001.

     In 2001 some Japanese farmers came up with a new and innovative way to grow and market watermelons. They began selling small square watermelons for a much higher cost then the traditional round or oblong watermelons. The square shape was achieved by placing the young, small, growing watermelon into a square tempered glass box form that the watermelon would conform to as it grew larger. The box prevented the watermelon from getting too large and gave every watermelon a very similar shape, size and consistency. What was the reason for the square watermelon? The box it is forced to grow in matches the standard shelf height of a Japanese refrigerator meaning the watermelons fit quite nicely on these shelves and don’t take up too much space.
     When we are born, we are pretty much, spiritually and personality speaking, a clear space. We have unlimited potential and an endless horizon to expand across up and down into. But right from the beginning, even before we make our debuts, tempered boxes are being prepared for us; by society, by family, by culture, by perceived gender, etc. These boxes, constraints, and forms continue to be placed around us as we grow. The endless expanse is not such a free range of possibilities. Limits, obstacles, boxes, walls, however you want to perceive it, are placed all around us. The societal expectation is that each of us will form and conform to these expectations so we will fit neatly within the space that society, culture and family has prepared for us – much as those square watermelons fit so neatly on a refrigerator shelf: but at what cost. A traditional watermelon costs about $15 US dollars in Japan and a square watermelon costs around $82 US dollars. We cannot measure all of the costs or perceived advantages to conformity within a societal box for an individual but, like the square watermelon, I think the costs are quite high.
     I was the surprise kid. My parents had a modest, two bedroom home within walking distance from the middle school and high school. I have two older brothers (one is nine years older and the other is five years older) when along came me. The two bedroom house wasn’t going to work. My parents instead built a four bedroom home in the country on a dead-end street. We were the third of 19 homes built and the house, land and location gave a lot of room for my brothers and me to range and play. From the beginning, I’ve been told; while I was unexpected, my Mom was delighted to have a little girl. She had dreams of me being a perfect little lady who wore nice dresses, played the piano, and acted in an appropriate, lady-like manner. I remember being taught by my aunt how to make mud pies at the edge of the garden. I had a great time and made a huge mess which completely upset my Mom because I had gotten so dirty.
     I did, by the way, take piano lessons for a few years. The upright piano was in the corner of the basement. I was scared of the basement and most especially scared to keep my back to the room for any length of time when I was down there by myself so I would do just about anything to get out of practice. I also took ballet for one year and gymnastics for a year. I am not, nor have I ever been a very coordinated, flexible person. Both were dismal failures on my part. I loved the idea of tap dancing but you weren’t allowed to tap dance unless you took ballet and I thought ballet, from the moves to the outfits, was stupid. Gymnastics was all about being allowed to use the uneven parallel bars but to get to those there was a lot of practice and pain that just didn’t really seem worth it to me. When middle school band became an option in 6th grade both my band instructor and I wanted me to play trumpet. My step-mother instead insisted on upholding the ideals she attributed to my deceased Mom and stated I could play the more feminine instruments; the flute or the clarinet. I chose the flute. I could have, according to my band instructor, been great at it but, my heart was never in it. I was always a little envious of the one girl in the trumpet section.
     These were examples of the walls, obstacles and expectations placed before me. I was to be a lady, playing and acting in a lady like way. My hair was long, my clothes were to be stylish, my attitude and conduct needed to be proper. I was given all the appropriate toys from Barbie to My Little Pony, to Strawberry Shortcake. I was being raised to be the daughter of an upper middle class family. I was the baby, the only girl; there were expectations always for behavior and actions. I was to behave well, get good grades, get along with others, have sleepovers and want to wear makeup and do my hair. The expectation as I got older was that I would go to college, get a degree, find a nice boy, get married and have children, a house and all the other trappings of heterosexual middle class life.
     There were exceptions to these lines specific to the area of my upbringing. I grew up near Pittsburgh, PA and as such was expected to be a Pittsburgh Steelers fan. It was perfectly acceptable to wear a Steelers jersey and watch the games. Hockey, as long as it was the Penguins, was also acceptable.
Being the youngest sibling, I also had access to my brother’s old toys. These are the toys I really loved from the Millennium Falcon to the model trains, to the Tonka trucks (especially the crane and back hoe that really worked). I was an avid bike rider. I rode to go as fast as possible. I wanted to swing from the wild grape vines in the woods and dig for hidden treasure by the creek. I wanted to read as many stories as I could get my hands on. I wanted to write and draw cartoons and be a super hero. When I was young my room was in pinks and lavender. In high school, I managed to convince my step Mom to repaint in white with red and black highlights.
     As I got older I found the personal strength and separation from family to begin to exert some pressure on the walls of expectation that have surrounded me my entire life. I am far from the perfect square watermelon. I am a design and creation completely unique from any other. I have had to shatter some of the tempered glass that has been placed around me. In some cases I have had to learn to grow around these barriers, leaving a scar but also gaining strength from incorporating and making these structures part of me.
I am far from a lady. I do love to cook and bake and am one of the few who can follow my grandmother’s recipes. I do not wear makeup or dresses. I find the concept of a dress to be akin to wearing drag; a very uncomfortable idea for me. I love women. I never, ever wanted to or want now to have children. I like kids but have never felt called to have my own. My hair is short; my clothes are mostly found in the men’s section of a store. Don’t get me wrong though, I like me. I do not fit the classic gender or societal roles. I continue to remold, break open, shape and reshape the boxes I have been placed into.
     So what does your box look like? Are you still sitting in the square tempered glass box society, family and peers have placed around you? Do you feel yourself straining to break free but feel like maybe you just can’t that maybe you should just give up, give in and try to fit perfectly on the shelf?
     I don’t live in a box anymore. I do live in this society but I am a member of the fringe. My space is certainly not a square or rectangle. It is a space decorated in a riot of colors but mostly earth tones and blues, made like transparent, stretchable fiber. My space grows, shifts, changes, stretches, expands and evolves into something a little different and always fantastic every moment. What does your box look like? Mine looks like nothing you’ve ever seen. In the corners and shadowed edges remnants of the imposed forms and shapes can sometime be found but most of my space is now in the light. Not a harsh light but a warm glow that shines inside and out.
     I am learning to take the labels, expectations and pressures and turn them on their heads. It can be a scary thing to do but it is also very freeing. No longer do I have to fit the mold imposed upon me but I can instead create, recreate and invent my own. I am trying to not just Not be on the shelf but to also be nowhere near the refrigerator all together.