I grew up on a farm in rural Alabama. When I was a little kid, it used to be a Big Thing for the “city people” to come out to the farm, buy a chick or two, dye them bright colors (blue, pink, green) and give them to their kids on Easter Sunday. Of course, on Monday morning these chicks would usually be taken from the child (who was by then bored with them anyway), brought back to the farm and returned to their mothers in the henhouse. Chickens are supposed to be colorblind, but I remember that the poor little blue or pink or green chick would often be shunned by the other chickens, even its own mother, and often would end up being pecked to death, just because it was different. I felt like that my whole life—I was always the “freak” at school, always getting shoved around and picked on, and if I fought back at the people who hit me I would get in trouble with the teachers just because I wasn’t like the other kids. So I know what it’s like not to be accepted, what it’s like to want desperately to belong…somewhere. Even if it’s with the other “freaks”.
It’s not easy being the Easter chick in the henhouse. Being different from everyone around you can suck hard. I do my best to encourage diversity in others, because if we’re all exactly the same, then what’s the point?
”- Emby Quinn, left of center. (via karynchaotic)