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Today's Featured Biography
Nathan Lee
This was originally written by me during Junior year; albeit an obvious update.
I am the kind of person that never seems to be in a foul mood (provided it’s later than sunrise, of course). Some would say that I might even be the most euphoric person in the world who wears black everyday, reads Chuck Palahniuk novels, and listens to KoRn. For me, it has only come after years of coping with a life that had almost eradicated a slim will to live. I still can’t pin down the exact moment that spun me around and propelled me into the realm of happiness… Nevertheless, I know that it was definitely, as Diamond Dallas Page says, “not a bad thing, but a GOOD thing!”
The intervention of happiness came just in time to circumvent an almost-inevitable suicide. The rampant torture I endured throughout most of my life seemed to come from every imaginable angle. My parents neglected me, my brothers hated me, my classmates abused me, and even my cats seemed to ignore me when I needed to something to hug. Every time my life changed just enough to adapt, everybody else seemed to change just enough to conflict. When I wore bright colors, I was too “fruity.” When I wore drab colors, I was too “scary.” When I started wearing all black, I was “gay” and “freaky.” When I went to a black school, I was too white. At white schools, I was too black. At home, my parents thought I was “disappointing” and “stressful” to them. Nothing ever seemed to work right.
My ability to endure this treatment for almost a decade is something I now attribute to a deeply rooted optimism that has opened up within me over the last two years. I have always tried to tell myself that things will eventually get better if I can just stay alive long enough to catch a few breaks. As I entered high school, I debated as to whether or not I was fooling myself by hoping for the best. After all, I was in no hurry to risk living a life of complete and utter sorrow. Today, I know that isn’t going to happen. I was finally granted the break I’d been waiting for all those years when I transferred to Bellevue High School.
Bellevue High School is considered by many to be haughty, oppressive and aristocratic. The fact that this school was responsible for stepping me in the right direction is quite ironic, if you ask me. My first year at BHS wasn’t the happiest year of my life, but it wasn’t as fraught with nerve-wracking drama as third through ninth grade in the Renton school district was. During my sophomore year, I had to deal with negligence, the initial months of the student body questioning my sexuality, and, on one occasion, some girls putting a dead crow in my locker. However, there was no lynching, no locker slamming, no threatening, and no verbal assault as I walked through the halls. This gave me the much-needed freedom to explore and develop my personality, as opposed to having my focus on defending myself from random assailants. Life gradually got easier during sophomore year, but it wasn’t until my junior year that things really took off in the right direction for me. I awoke that year with a running to a new life; leaving sorrow scrambling in vain to catch up. It seemed like everything fell right into place. The time I spent on my social life increased exponentially. It got to the point where I’d actually have to worry about balancing it with my studies at home. At the same time, my home life became bearable, if not enjoyable, thanks in part to my parents separating. My brothers soon realized that they missed me; my Dad realized that I’m not so pathetic after all, and my cats started waiting for me at night to go to sleep with them. I don’t know what caused that, but I won’t question it.
Now I'm a senior. You may not be able to tell by looking at me, but I'm one of the proudest members of the class of '03. My school spirit has never been much of a question (ask any pep band member), but it might surprise you to see just how much fun I'm having with my upcoming graduation. Flashing the "03" finger sign (pointer, middle, pinky extended, ring and thumb making an loop) has almost become a reflex, and my room is becoming more blue and gold by the week. Of course, if you know me, I'm not telling you anything you didn't already know.
I suppose my spirit can make up some ground for the somewhat-apathetic student body... I swear, lack-of-spirit is a definite problem at BHS. Oh well. I love it anyway.
I recently got back in touch with an old acquaintance that I hadn’t seen since my frosh year at Renton High. She asked how my life was going, and I simply said, much to her dismay, that I was “loving life these days.”
Perplexed by the change in my attitude, she exclaimed, “The Nathan I knew was depressed and suicidal all the time. You’re really happy now?”
“To put it simply: Yup.”
“But… why?”
I’d heard her question many different times. As I said before, I’m not sure exactly how I became so happy; but I certainly know why, and I will give the same answer every time. A vainglorious smirk creeps onto my face, and I simply say, “I’m happy now, because it’s more fantastical than being sad.”
-Nathan Lee, proud member of the Class of 2003, and Bellevue High's official Unorthodox Black Spirit Guy.
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