The Beard is Not the Man

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I don't normally grouse about other people's blogs if I actually know them, but I found this particular story interesting. One of the blogs I follow religiously posted a story about a conversation he overheard that involved profanity (warning, this post contains that profanity). Why do I grouse on the story? The author made it a point to point out that the men in the elevator with him were bearded.

I posted a comment and asked why he felt necessary to mention that they had beards since there was no relevant link drawn to their language. Plenty of clean-shaven people have potty mouths, and I happen to have much more elevated language than that. I felt stereotyped.

The beard is not the man. I find it funny that all of my life people have taught me that 'it's what's on the inside that counts'. The reasons for this are twofold: they judge me because I have a beard, and they tell me that I should overlook their visible faults. Wait, you expect something from me you are unwilling to afford me? Many of these people have known me for years before I ever grew a beard, and yet they still take issue with it.

Years ago at another job, I had a coworker who said this, "I'm glad I was forced to get to know you because I wouldn't have otherwise, and that would have been a shame." Yes, I have a beard. I also have a brain, a home, a heart, and 'the nerve'. Lots of people who shave daily act as if they have none of those things, people like, oh, I don't know, Charlie Sheen.

I am what I am, just like Popeye said. I am more than my car, my face, my job, my clothes, my wage, my age, my address, my family, etc. I am me, and I am okay with who I am.