It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in downtown Minneapolis, and I was cajoling youth and young adults into signing pledges to vote in the upcoming presidential election. Despite a large number of rejections, I was feeling pretty good about myself � going out and taking a stand! Getting people to vote! I was going to change the world! The best part was talking to like-minded young adults in the 19-25 year old range. Once I got through my song and dance, people wanted to talk about the issues. It was refreshing to engage in respectful political debates with strangers, and I was enjoying myself.
At A Glance Author trillianphoenix Contact [email protected] IAM trillianphoenix When It just happened Location Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA After my first hour, I managed to corner a couple outside of a Target, and we got to talking. Both people were visibly modified; the woman had bright colored tattoos peeking out from behind her tank top, the man had two full sleeves, and both had very stretched ear lobes. They were very polite, signed my petition and talked to me a bit about the issues and then left. As I was walking away from them, a man approached me and started talking.
He was an older white man, with an orange perma-tan and pressed khakis. I wouldn't want to cast any stereotypes, but if I was going to paint a picture of your average, rich white American man, he would be it. "Excuse me, miss," he said, leaning in close to my face. "What exactly are you doing here?" I explained, smiling widely at him and speaking very politely, that I was part of an organization getting youth and young adults to register and pledge to vote in the upcoming election. "Okay," he said, frowning at me. "And how many of you people are out here?" I explained that there were four of us canvassing the area, that we weren't asking for money, and that we were non-partisan. He had been nodding and smiling so far, so his next statement caught me off-guard.
"Every single one of your people that I've seen has been talking to that kind of person," he said, glaring at me. "Excuse me?" I said, still smiling, but getting that awful sinking feeling in my stomach. "Please," he laughed nastily. "You know what I'm talking about. That kind of person." "I'm here to talk to young voters," I said, trying to avoid a confrontation. "Then why that kind of person?" I realized that he was talking about the extremely polite and nice modified couple I had talked to moments earlier. "They are voters too, sir," I responded, starting to get a little bit pissed off. "Come on � I know what you're trying to do," he snarled at me. His wife, embarrassed but glaring at me as well, started pulling him away. "I know what you're trying to do," he said, louder, as his wife led him away. I managed to keep my smile plastered on my face and tell them to have a nice day, but the second I turned away I couldn't help but say "asshole!" loudly enough to startle the woman standing next to me.
He was berating me for talking to modified people � for registering modified people to vote. Apparently, the modified community is part of a larger conspiracy to pollute American morality and destroy our country. I was, and continue to be, completely livid. I have experienced hesitation and disgust from others regarding the modified community; my family largely ignores my activities, while friends think of my piercings and ritual events as a low-level self injury warranting therapy. Both of these attitudes, while mostly incorrect and sometimes hurtful, are tolerable. My friends and family do not judge my character or my intelligence based on my modifications; none of them would think of taking away my voice because I enjoy piercing. However, this man apparently felt that my modifications made me an immoral, irresponsible wild-card who shouldn't be allowed to vote.
I haven't always seen my modifications as being political. I like the way they look and feel; I like a little shock value, and I'm interested in pushing and playing with the physical limits of my body. But yesterday, I realized that by being visibly modified, I was making a political statement. To that man, I was saying "I am not like you, or your parents, and I don't have to believe in what you believe in. I've made my own choices" - and that scared him. I'm sure many of you have experienced the same kind of discrimination � having to remove or hide modifications to get a job, or being refused a job because of modifications. People making assumptions about your lifestyle, or your mental health � all leading to the conclusion that a modified person is an irresponsible, immoral and unhealthy person (and probably psychotic). I don't want to push my political agenda on anyone , but I do think, now more than ever, it is important for eligible modified voters to come out on November 2nd and prove that our voices are just as meaningful and important as others.