Picture this: it’s three a.m. and you’re half way through a six hour car ride home from Des Moines with two of your best friends. Desperately
trying to fall asleep


in the backseat, you are covered in sweat, uncomfortable, and restless. You probably could have spared yourself this discomfort by waiting until morning to drive home, but the weekend is over, and you have to be at school in just four short hours. Just a few hours earlier, you were exceptionally happy in a city you’ve never been in, being pushed and shoved by 800 people that you’ve never met before, all of whom have gathered for the same reason: to see their favorite bands play. This was my reality a few weeks ago. This is how I spent my Easter Sunday. This is my scene.
By definition, a scene is an area or sphere of activity or current interest. Otherwise known as your group. Your clique. However, because of the times, the term “scene” has become just another label, similar to “jock” or “geek”. Three years ago, I was repulsed by the term “scene”, and any of its synonyms. “I don’t want to be labeled, I’m just Julia,” I preached. But now that I’ve had time to think it over, I figure that if people are going to identify me with a certain label anyway, then I’m going to make that label proud.
Despite the perceptions that many people have of these “scene kids”, I can shout out loud that I’m proud to be a part of it. There’s an unspoken friendship and bond between me and everyone I randomly bump into at a show. They have my back and I have theirs. I imagine it’s the same bond a football team feels between players, or a colony of ants feels between insects. Everyone needs a niche to fit into, so you might as well wear yours on your sleeve.
So rather than spending all of your time and effort trying to escape the inevitable labels of high school, why not have heart and rep that label with pride? Always stay true to yourself and never try to mold to someone else’s expectations. Like Abe Lincoln (and Mr. Manfull) said, “Whatever you are, be a good one.”