My mom and I sometimes sit at the kitchen table and talk. Today, for instance, we talked about piercings. Rather, I did and she just listened.
I currently have seven piercings: three in each ear and one in my navel. And I certainly want more – nothing more radical than a nose piercing, mind you. At most, maybe I’ll get an eyebrow done. I’m not exactly “punk;” I probably fall somewhere between preppy and artsy. But I won’t lie and say the “punk” style doesn’t appeal to me. It certainly does. As a history major very fascinated with modern American culture, in all that statement’s murky glory, why wouldn’t I be?
I picture myself getting a job at some alternative newspaper or magazine as an editor/writer or at a contemporary art museum, like Detroit’s MOCAD or Boston’s ICA. Some place where, theoretically, I could get away with a nose piercing and not be judged negatively for it. With my master’s degree and (maybe) a PhD, you can’t say I’m stupid because I have a microscopic rock in my nose. That’s pure, unadulterated bullshit and should be illegal (although, if we did criminalize pure bullshit, Congress would shut down).
But the truth is, it won’t matter if I write the Greatest Thesis on Earth or produce the Greatest Novel Ever or take the Most Spectacular Photos you’d ever seen. If I have a piece of metal sticking out of my skin where it logically shouldn’t, or if I have a tattoo in a place that’s too “conspicuous”, people may view me as trash. Yet when I used to substitute, I’d see office workers with more ear piercings than I. If they can do it, why can’t I? Oh, right: Because I’m young and stupid and they’re older and have the benefit of “years of experience”.
(On that note, I’d also like to know why some of these school office workers wear things I’d only wear if I were going to a club. No adult wore such tight, revealing outfits when I was in school. Unless I’m repressing that memory.)
The biggest argument against both is the job aspect. Though I do think it’s pure BS, I gotsta work, and if either may stop me from getting work, it ain’t worth it. Those alternative rags, or those art museums? They may not be hiring. Then what? I see people with body mods at the places I frequent. But do I see myself working at Subway, or Starbucks, or the Apple Store? Well, save for the last one, no. And what if I want to get into acting? Tattoos may rule out a lot of roles unless I become skilled with Dermablend (or become Angelina Jolie, whichever happens first). Piercings won’t help, either.
When you get down to it, I am an artist. Whether it’s my writing, my drawings, or my photography, that is who I am. If I can work in an environment that’s conducive to that, all the better. If my choices include piercings (which I still want) and a couple tattoos (which I’m still considering), I don’t want to be written off as someone who isn’t intelligent, who didn’t bust her ass to get through graduate school, who isn’t creative, and who isn’t a valuable person. I am an artist, an academic, and I want to be accepted as that, no matter where I work, what degrees I get, or how big the hunk of cubic zirconia is in my nose. I won’t embarrass you with my appearance (there are worse people, I assure you).
My personality, though, is a completely different story.
