My Commitment To Being Different

I try to vary the topics I write about and one those I rarely touch on is religion. While it may warm the heart of fellow Christians who attend church regularly, it is always a signal to turn and run for those who either don’t believe in God or are just skeptical about how the world and everything in it were created.

But this month’s particular series at LifeChurch has stood out to me and is worth talking about in the context of my perception. This is my blogpost, after all.

The series is called “Different” and the main message talks about how each of us who embrace God’s message are called to be “different” in how we approach life. In hearing the first two weeks of the message, I have been reminded of just how different I already am than most of the people in my world. And to me, that can often be a good thing. I am, after all, different.

I have felt different from mainstream society for most of my life, even when my actions reflected someone who was just hoping to fit into whatever groups wanted to accept me. It’s not as if I am noticeably quirky or odd in a way that makes people want to reject me. But I have always stood out in ways that others tend to just attempt to blend into. When the world wanted to zig, I tended to zag.

As a reporter, I did my best to outwork and outperform my peers and that led to awards and industry recognition. What it didn’t lead to was better pay or a solid reputation among the peers outside my immediate work area. Sure, I was respected within the walls of the State Capitol, but I kept running into brick walls outside my friendly confines. Based on what we have been told about the American Dream, that is certainly different. Because hard work will always get you the rewards, right?

When I ran for the Oklahoma House of Representatives, I certainly felt different. None of the people who existed in my immediate circle of friends had ever done that or have since. The very nature of the path I have taken has led me to know people who have taken this step, but they aren’t people with whom I have developed strong friendships.

It seems as if everyone I know complains about politics, but I actually decided to do something about it. I knocked all the doors. I went to the community events. I raised money even though I felt uncomfortable with every call. Even in losing, I felt as if I won something because I took on a challenge that most people just aren’t willing to do.

I took a job in the public relations office at Langston University, and many people viewed me as different because of that. When I went on to become a spokesman and the voice of the state’s only HBCU (Historically Black College or University), I certainly felt different. Not in a bad way, but I knew and understood the uniqueness and privilege of a white guy standing in those shoes.

Two years ago, when my sciatic nerve decided to change my life forever, I most definitely felt different. It wasn’t just being a paraplegic for several weeks. It wasn’t losing my job two weeks after being released from the hospital while still not being cleared to work at a desk (in part because I still lacked the ability to walk). It was the totality of it and how I responded to it.

The thing is, I didn’t sit back and cry about how life had hand-picked me for an unwarranted beating. I forged forward and began applying for jobs. After months of surprisingly unsuccessful attempts to gain employment, I again did something different. I started my own company and tried to use that as a way to pay bills while I continued to seek a regular income. It was never intended to be a replacement for a full-time job and it has failed to serve even the modest objective it was supposed to serve. Now, nearly two years into my job hunt, I continue to feel different.

I have applied for thousands of jobs, been through several dozens of interviews and been a finalist for numerous jobs. And not once in the last two years have I been chosen as the guy who they wanted to fill that vacant position. Nobody goes two years working toward a specific goal of employment and comes up empty. But, I am different and my job drought has reflected that.

Who knows what the future will hold? I continue to plug along each day optimistically seeking a life that will allow me to have the stability that so many others seem to take for granted. Regardless, I will continue to be different, whether or not people appreciate it.