Non-binary is a cold and scientific term, a suiting term for they/them who are clearly not human.
Un-American is another good term for they/them.
God forbid the freedom from need to reign champion of black/white.
The freedom from having to explain it.
The freedom to express oneself, however and whenever, and without boundaries.
The freedom from defending oneself and defining oneself against the banging, bashing, bullying, and warped up anxiety caused not only by their, his, or her peers, but by himself, herself, or themself.
Freedom.
Good, ol’ un-American, freedom.
Imagine not cheating oneself of any opportunity presented.
Play with the fucking Barbies, play with the fucking GI Joes. Who fucking cares.
You, the punk rock generation, the mods and goths and brooding fucking disco dancers.
You unique fuckers should get it. You probably spent most of your youth defending it, albeit unknowingly.
I hope you know this.
You were defending it with that mohawk and that leather jacket and those tattoos and that nail polish.
Same with you hippies and rebels without a cause. Same fucking thing.
You were defending it with your long hair and sandals and peace and love mantras. Defending it with the motorcycle leathers and all those middle fingers and the “what are you rebelling against” and the “what do you got” bullshit.
I was defending it with my emotions and my incredible desire to escape, unknowingly.
I know this.
Don’t even come at me with labels. We label everything, and I don’t fucking care.
Imagine not cheating oneself out of any love.
The he/her is, for some, the wall that creates the transgression.
They scream from the he/her jail cell.
You, he/her, you don’t have to be they/them. You are free to choose he/she, of course.
For fucking America’s sake.
Non-binary, a cold and scientific term.
Perhaps a chemical reaction.
Perhaps a chemical reaction in the heart and in the soul.
If it were so, scientific.
-Aaron Paul Schaut
