The room was clamoring with all the familiar sounds of the first day of class, summer as always had been way too short. I would love to tell you that I was the kind of student who went to school eager to soak up every bit of knowledge my brain could squeeze in, but that would be such a load of crap. My father retired in a sleepy little southern town where everyone understood who belonged, and even more clearly who didn’t. I didn’t belong, so I adjusted my broken goggles to see who else didn’t belong.
I had made a lot of friends in the short two years I had been there, but most of my friends were never placed into my classes. I was the odd girl who partied with the other heads, who for some unexplainable reason found school to be quite easy. Unfortunately I was much more interested in the social side of school, but my test scores always seem to land me in the middle of the classrooms full of students who’s parents were raising future doctors, lawyers, and socialites. Even though there were only a few others like me, we always managed to find one another.
There was an unspoken understanding that this is who were academically, but outside of the classroom seemed to be where we really belonged. Then he fluttered into the room. His nose crinkled as he disdainfully surveyed his new surroundings. We made eye contact, and he fluttered his way over to the desk next to me. Looked me straight in the face, and said “Oh God just shoot me now!” Then he leaned over brushing my bangs from my face, and said “We will work on this hair later.”
It was the beginning of one of one of the closest friendships I would ever have, and I was completely unaware of it at that time. According to Sam I wasn’t a “fag hag” since I didn’t exclusively hang out with only gay men. He did however point out that if he wasn’t the only openly gay man in this state I might be. I liked to point out to Sam that it was he who fluttered over to me.
In that classroom it was not just Sam and I who were wearing “broken goggles.” Every student in that room wore a pair.The truth is that in this life everyone wears a pair of goggles. Your particular pair of googles have the unique ability to see others who are like you in some way that’s sometimes obscure to other people. Sam and I, happened to wear a pair of “broken goggles,” the ones with the ability to see those who have been broken. 😉