Outwardly Looking In

I've been meaning to write for a while, but I've been looking for the right words. I want to talk about my generation, our generation, and how we express ourselves. Some may chuckle to themselves, some may raise an eyebrow in silent disagreement, others I am hoping will agree.

Last week I got my fourth tattoo. I love it. I will always love it because it is important to me. It means something to me now as it will in fifty years, because it connects me to my favorite person in the world: my younger brother Sam. To describe it is simple. It's at the back of my neck, written in Thai. The top word says "Nong Chai" which means Little Brother, and it's followed by four lines of the Awakening prayer:

"Evoking the presence of the Great Compassion, let us fill our hearts with our own compassion towards ourselves and towards all living beings."

My brother was there to hold my hand for an hour and a half, while a small Thai man stabbed me thousands of times with a small piece of bamboo with intense precision, in traditional Thai bamboo tattoo style on the island of Ko Tao in Thailand. It's not this tattoo that inspires this writing, it was actually my first. I want to talk about my generation and how we define ourselves. We are what I like to call the Tattoo Generation. We express ourselves outwardly, through our clothing, hair, piercings, tattoos, ideals, peace protests, poetry slams, rock concerts, and style. What were once private issues whispered in the safe confines of your home are now splashed across bumper stickers, tshirt logos and the headline of the newspaper.

Yet we are not the first to spawn these great ideals of change. My parents' generation of the sixties were the first, and I am merely passing on what they taught me. They taught me that change is possible. That breaking from the norm with some radical new ideas may just be what this world needs. That if we are unhappy with our governments, we have the power to have our voices heard. That it's the differences in all of us that make this world unique and will lead us forward into the future. Today I feel a different type of revolution taking hold.

I believe that in ten or twenty years it won't matter how you appear outwardly, but who you are inside. I wish we could be there now, but I find judgment at every corner from those unwilling to open their minds. Yes, I have dreadlocks, a giant tattoo on my forearm, upper back, lower back and ankle. Yes, I think they are the most beautiful pieces of art anyone could have on their body. No, I never want to be or work where someone would overlook my skills or personality because of them. No, I would never change for anyone but myself.

Some people will say that I'll never be able to get a "real" job, and to that I can only say, "Promise?" I laugh to think at what my mother is thinking right now. She is the foundation of sensibility and logic mixed in with her wild spirit, and yes, she's almost always right. She says that when I'm old all my tattoos will be big, splotchy blobs, and she's probably right, again. The point, though, is that those big, beautiful unrecognizable blobs will be the reminder of my youth, my carefree, happy youth. I will take these years, live them and love them, and occasionally paint pictures on my skin of loves, lights, and memories. Every tattoo is a little piece of me that I want to show and share with the world, and I can see nothing wrong with that.

What I think I'm asking for, from those who disbelieve or disagree, is a little peace and a little acceptance. You don't have to like it. You don't have to agree with it. But seeing as how you can do nothing about it, I'd have to say it'll be a lot easier for all of us to move forward, together, if we could embrace our differences instead of fight about them. There is enough hate and judgement in this world. We should be standing together.