I am a white boy.

I might be in my late twenties (a very recent turning, might I add) but I’m still a five foot, seven inches tall white boy. I wear tight jeans, but not tapered ones because I think those make people look like Tim Burton characters. I drink coffee made in a french press. I have giant, black-rimmed glasses and put product in my hair. I listen to music that isn’t on large labels, but then again I listen to rap now because mutliculturalism is not only acceptable, but encouraged. I read and I write and I have an attitude half of the time. I have a roommate who’s in a band . I have values that I try to follow, even to the point of searching for jobs that support them because ultimately, money won’t satisfy me but doing what I’m supposed to will. In contrast to the whole money statement, I like Apple products.

Some call me a hipster, others call me trendy. At first, I resented these titles because I was the same way in high school, before it was cool (All hipsters enjoyed something before it hit Urban Outfitters, by the way). Basically, I’m a giant cliche, a living, walking stereotype. I’m alright with this and I use it to my advantage. Being just cool enough keeps the disregard of instantaneous judgment at bay and opens a door into some peoples’ lives, so I can encourage them to join my parade and be just like me.  I say some because other stereotypes are programmed to dislike members of my people group. That’s a different story though.

David elaborates on his individual creation in psalm 139. God saw his substance, yet unformed and had written his days out before a single one had been lived (v.16). God follows us each on our own journey, holding and directing us (v.1-10). If we were all the same, it wouldn’t matter that God saw us before we were formed, because that examination would get boring. If humanity lacked the diversity we see every day, God wouldn’t have to follow and guide each of us because we’d be doing the same thing like lemmings or teenagers.

This leaves me feeling unique because even though I’m a giant stereotype on the outside, I’m uncommon where it matters. I might look like everyone else, but basically, I’m memorable- just a little different. So are you, your friends, your mother and the guy you recently gave the bird for cutting you off in traffic. Clearly, he’s something special. A great example of this idea comes about in the genetically identical Winklevii twins of The Social Network (I don’t know the reality of these humans, just their Hollywood depiction, but give me a break). They have the exact same DNA but clearly, they have different minds and means to going about things.

What it really boils down to is you and I might feel like a couple of diamonds in the rough but really, we’re all some pretty average bling.