Today is a very important day.
The entire institution comes together today to take pictures, to show our progress off to the rest of the world. To show them we’re happy and cooperative and making great bounds in terms of personal growth.
Today is a very important day.
Today is not a very happy day.
Nothing is outright banned. No one is outright turned away or told they can’t wear whatever they’re wearing.
But the subtle comments, the half hidden snide remarks. The quiet shaming, the judgmental looks. The notes about what civilized and sophisticated, respectable, professional, look like.
Contradictions abound between each comment and look.
So it is not a very happy day.
For everyone who has ever tried to be the one that doesn’t get looks directed at them, who doesn’t want to hear the edge of a snarky comment.
Others it is far more neutral of a day, because they have the ability to not care so much about what any of the administrators of the institution care about how they’re looking and dressing for the pictures.
Somewhere in between the ones who care because they do or they must, and those who don’t because they don’t have to, there are those who work against the grain on purpose. Whether they can afford to or not, they make their statements where they can.
They are the rebellion.
The rebellion looks like rainbow socks peaking out from beneath ironed black slacks, it looks like a brightly colored braided rope bracelet instead of a plain silver faced watch with a plain brown leather strap. It looks like a lower neckline each year. It looks like a skirt that comes in just shorter than regulation. It looks like the edge of an exposed tattoo. It looks like hair pulled back in a ponytail to expose the dyed hair shaved into a brilliant mosaic pattern. It looks like pride suspenders hidden underneath a dress coat.
The rebellion is subtle. Maybe no one on the outside will notice. Likely the administrators won’t notice, or won’t notice the pattern until they’re looking at the pictures that make up the day. It will irritate them when they notice, they will worry that people on the outside will notice and wonder or retaliate.
The rebellion is progress of ideal tucked gently under the edge of someone’s cuff or hidden quietly between the folds of a robe, waiting for the time it can be flown and exposed so proudly.
It’s slow so they won’t notice till it’s taken over, until it’s too late.
Rebellion is subtle.
It looks like the quiet girl dressed meticulously in all black professional clothing. The ironed slacks and button up shirt fastened with a fastidious black on black striped tie tucked into a smooth and wrinkle free vest. Her hair up in a sharp bun with not a single flyaway hair escaping. Her shoes smooth and black, with a tiny heel that might thud lightly upon the heavily carpeted halls that lead to the pictures.
Her rebellion is subtle. It looks like a sweeping, perfectly clean and buttoned trenchcoat that flows around her from her shoulders to her ankles as she casually joins the line.
It looks like taking a moment to remove her trenchcoat for her picture, apologizing quietly for the slight disruption, her back turned to the camera for a moment. It looks like turning around to reveal a highly realistically detailed bright neon strap-on worn over the ironed black slacks, thrusting suggestively toward the camera. Greeting the shock and surprise of the administrators evermore cheerfully –
Today is a very important day.
Today is rebellion day. Rebellion is subtle.