The Stars My Destination

poseidonsconsort:

When I was 14 years old, I started high school at a private institution that encouraged, enforced and rewarded solidarity, conformity and conservatism. It was 1984 and there was colorful, brand-recognition solidarity in the ocean of popped collar Izod shirts and blue Levi jeans; that flowed in every hallway and classroom. Above the noise of shuffling papers, slamming locker doors and chattering teenagers, there were the tinny sounds from earphones of Bruce Springsteen, Cyndi Lauper & Journey.
Floating haphazardly like a stick in the waves was me. I was dressed in a purple brocade jacket (that my father had let me buy in Seattle that summer), a black fedora, black shorts and fishnet hose. My silver Walkman was covered in my sharpie versions of Haring figures dancing and blasting from my earphones was a “Controversy” cassette.
I had very few friends.
My parents spent many nights telling me that my outfits were inappropriate for school.
My school counsellors spent many hours telling me that I stood out too much and I should try to dress a little more conservatively and join a club.
I was told by teachers that I needed to spend more time on math and less time drawing.
I was locked in a classroom with my other few “weirdo” friends by a group of football players who thought we needed to be punished for being different.
I wrote & drew pictures on my shoes and my pants more than I did on paper and I wrote poetry that I tried to put to music.

High school was tough but every day that I rode home on the bus, I listened to my Walkman and Prince reminded me that it was ok to be who I was. I can still remember going home one day crying and on a rainy day-I took comfort in watching the rain streak across the huge windows of the bus, smelling the exhaust that told me I was going home and listening to Prince remind me “never let that lonely monster take control of you”.

When Purple Rain came out, I added gloves and scarves and pinstriped zoot suit jackets to my wardrobe. I wore heels. I was fearless about writing love notes to boys and unashamed of how I looked when I went to school dances-even though I mostly stood alone or talking to the other “weird people”.
I was inspired and encouraged by the drummer Sheila E…she was beautiful and talented and not afraid of using her gifts and dressing how she wanted to.
Sophomore year, Around the World in a Day came out and Raspberry Beret told me that it didn’t matter if you had classic pretty looks or a Barbie body-having a look all your own is beautiful. I moved on to other musical influences, grew a Mohawk, wore cloaks and ripped up skirts but I never stopped being me.

I would not have felt so encouraged to be myself, express myself and feel peace about standing out in a crowd, if it wasn’t for Prince. His music consoled me, lifted me, aroused me, inspired me and taught me more than anything to be grateful for who I am and feel that it was ok to express myself; artistically, physically, emotionally and musically. There isn’t another musical artist who has had as much of an impact on me and perhaps it is because he was there during a very formative time but his impact will never be forgotten or not respected.

I don’t think it matters if you listened to him religiously or know every song-anyone has a right to be sad when people who were unafraid to be unique, wink out of our universe. Today’s sky is so full of artificial stars; their light isn’t the same. Be sad but turn that sorrow into a promise that their example won’t be forgotten and make each day, an effort to burn as brightly.

Shine on.