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My John Bender

He was my John Bender. Tall, dark and handsome with smooth hair that flopped in his eyes. He was always brushing it to the side, a fluid motion perfected by the 90s era heart throb. He was smolder and sexiness and off-hand aloofness. He was rolled eyes and unexpected fun.

But he wasn’t John Bender. He wasn’t angry. His family was loving and kind. He wasn’t a bad boy. He adored his parents. And he didn’t give our teachers hell.

No, that was me.

Maybe I was his John Bender. Saying whatever came into my head, pushing buttons to see what would happen, pointing out the things that made no sense to my teenage mind. Dark, smooth hair, probing eyes. Layers of clothes as I tried to define who I was in the grunge-era of the 90s.

But I wasn’t John Bender either. I wasn’t holding court in detention. My home life was happy. I didn’t care to deface my high school. And I definitely wasn’t meeting anyone in the janitor’s closet.

Maybe we’re all a little John Bender. Acting out to see what happens, pushing back against the rules, insulting everyone and no one. Maybe we’re all feeling clever and flashing the finger. Maybe we’re all a little hurt, a little broken, a little uncertain of who we”ll be.

Shaped by traumas, defeats and pressures, under compression, we are growth and change and definition. We are all fighting to figure out who we are.

But as the script goes, the world sees us as it wishes to see us, in the simplest terms and reduced to the most convenient definitions.

Does that answer your question?

Published inEssaysThe Blog

2 Comments

  1. Melissa Melissa

    I will always believe incoming HS freshmen must watch this movie…we’re all different and we’re all the same.

    • Sarah Walker Caron Sarah Walker Caron

      Agree! I watched it in the seventh grade and it was a transformative experience.

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