at this point in my life- at least halfway through, probably more -i flatter myself that, many days, you might not be able to tell the difference between me and a human being. i am no less lost than i have ever been, no more confident or sure of what’s expected of me (indeed, sometimes i think i’m less capable than ever in this way, because the older i get the more self-conscious i become about not being able to feel like i know what to do/be), but i do believe (hope?) that, at a glance, which is of course all i’ll get from the majority of people, that i appear to be a normal, nondescript person. i am a white male, which helps.

it’s possible that my job creates an illusion for me in this respect. as an instructor, i spend the key portion of my job around a group of people who i have power over, and who, therefore, are motivated to tell me what i want to hear. for the most part, they treat me like i’m a regular person, but it’s possible that this is self-interested patronizing. by the time they reach college, they have, depressingly, internalized an impulse to flatter and mimic their instructors, so it’s impossible to know what they really think. (ironically, as a writing instructor, all i’m interested in is what they think, but they’ve had the impulse to trust their own ideas beaten out of them so thoroughly that it will take years to be cultivated again, if it ever returns at all.)

last semester, i wore a new hat i bought, a sashiko weave tulip style hat. i was apprehensive about it, as even though its color is a washed black, the style is uncommon, and i worry a lot about my clothes attracting attention. but i was really excited about it and wanted to wear it, so i did. it went okay. no one said anything, so i wore it again the next day. another student in my workshop class commented on it, but in a friendly way, so i was feeling very good about the whole thing.

a couple weeks later, i wore it again, still a bit nervous but not as much as before. as i was walking to campus from the commuter lot i parked in, i passed a few of my students. it was the usual uncomfortable encounter, as i noticed them when they were far away and fretted over what to do (cross the street and pretend i was going somewhere else, keep my eyes down and pretend i didn’t see them, acknowledge them, etc.). i was even more anxious than i might usually be in this situation, because i was wearing my tulip hat. when we came closer to each other, one of them decided for me and said good morning. another did the same, and i replied. my reply caused the third one to look up from her phone and notice me, and she exploded with laugh that she instantly stifled, saying only “i like your hat.” i had been recognized as strange and different, and it was my fault. the hat was screaming it out to people.

but i wonder, how clear is it at other times? when i wear less ostentatious outfits, can people tell? if i’m walking across campus in a simple trousers and button-up outfit, do they know that i am terrified of every single one of them? when i’m talking to another adult male (or even an adolescent male), can they tell that i’m confused to the point of panic, trying to understand what they mean when they speak? just when i’m driving to school, can other drivers recognize, just from my head and my upper torso, that i don’t know where i’m going, even though i’ve driven this same route dozens of times?

this is all very melodramatic. if i can resist the urge to wear weird clothes (which, unfortunately, is strong), i think (hope) i can pass, as long as they don’t look closely.