Ashleigh Heaton
Editor-in-Chief

I have a confession to make: I am…a nerd.

Now, you might be thinking, “Psh, nah, she’s just over-exaggerating,” but I cannot express how sincere I am.

Here goes nothing:

I watch anime. I have beaten quite a few Legend of Zelda titles (Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess and The Windwaker – cannot wait for The Skyward Sword this summer.) I can list the majority of the original 150 Pokémon. I have seen all the Star Wars films multiple times. I went to an anime convention this past summer and plan on going again this year.

I read manga and visit the comic book store regularly. I own the first two seasons of “Sailor Moon”. I await a Halo live-action movie with baited breath. I actually like studying (assuming it’s nothing math-related) and using SAT vocabulary in everyday conversation.

You get my drift.

However, despite the overwhelming amount of “nerdom” with which I surround myself, I’m really shy about letting other people see that side of me. It is–how to put it?–looked down upon in high school to prefer comic books to sports. In fact, I’ve only recently been comfortable enough in my own skin to admit how nerdy I am.

I shouldn’t have to feel this way. Just because I associate the word “rupee” as the Hylian currency rather than the Indian one doesn’t mean that I should be embarrassed about it.

Haven’t we always been told to “be ourselves”? Are we expected to be ourselves, or just the “ourselves” that society says is best?

In essence, my problem is with conformity. I mean, diversity is what makes this country work, right? It takes all kinds–nerds, jocks, intellects, preps and any other stereotype you can think of–to make life interesting.

So telling someone they’re weird because they’ve played their way through the Mario franchise is missing the mark.

Not that staying true to yourself is easy– it isn’t. When I first discovered the awesomeness of manga in middle school, I went a little overboard and it became an obsession, to put it lightly. However, while I was indulging in nerdvana, I noticed that my friends were pulling away from me.

When I realized that being myself meant losing my friends, I learned how to shut up. I stopped bringing comics to school and tried to act more “normal”– and, sure enough, I got my friends back.

I hated it. I hated not being able to indulge so freely in the things I loved, just for the sake of being liked.

And you know what? I’m not sure it was worth it, conforming. I was talking to one of these friends after I had toned down my interests, and she said one of the most hurtful things I have heard in my life: “Yeah, I’m glad you change…I didn’t want to be your friend.”

It was one thing for my friends to become distant; it was another completely to realize they had considered abandoning me.

And now, here I am– comics and all. And it turns out your elementary school teachers were right: friends who ask you to change are not truly your friends.

True to my nerd form, I absolutely worship “The Big Bang Theory”, the ultimate homage to nerdkind. One of my favorite characters, Sheldon, has a one-liner he uses whenever he pulls (what he calls) a classic prank: “bazinga”.

Molding to the standards of conformity is the most classic prank we can pull on ourselves, because it means putting on a ridiculous show for no reason. This column is my formal resignation from that divine prank.

So, to any conformists out there, I only have one word for you: bazinga.