On Oct. 31, millions will eat candy, party, vandalize and wear costumes. The last item on that list is the most interesting because the other things are done daily, some to more extents than others. It is rare, however, to see children in “Star Wars” costumes walking down the street.
Halloween emphasizes extrinsic value. We want to have the best costume, show off and win the prize. But what is different about this behavior than that of our daily lives? Do we not put equal emphasis on the surface while downplaying the emotional and mental spheres of life?
Appearances can be an expression of our individuality, but they can also be a guise for fear. We fear we will not fit in, stand out, make a statement, find “the one” or be accepted by society because of our wardrobe. Some compulsively shop to get that perfect look, while others try to show how much they do not conform. I was in the latter category. Disgusted with mainstream culture, as I still am, I strove to be different. Then I realized that I was just conforming in ways that were not as common as others (I now see that sentiment and action are the geneses of change, not appearance).
We live in a society of conscious consumption, which stresses that we need to have the right costume to be the best. You can become whoever you want to be if you have the cash. Why learn, create and experience, when you can simply buy your identity at the mall? Certainly appearing presentable is important. No one will listen to me if I were to get a green mohawk. In the classroom I am observing for a project, I cannot walk in with jeans, a band t-shirt and visible tattoos, although I would certainly be more comfortable. (Am I a hypocrite because I love tattoos? Why not? I am just as guilty as others for wanting to look a certain way.)
Even beyond clothes, we seek to have bodies that we think will give us happiness, when the fact is, true happiness does not come from physicality. There have been times in my life where I thought that if only I had a muscular, “chiseled” physique, if only I had this material thing or if only I was in a relationship with this girl, my life would be perfect. In my mind, all of these things would accompany that perfect body, which I have realized is nonexistent. No matter how much I chased after that “costume,” nothing was ever good enough. Many women think that they need to have the body of a 12 year-old boy to be found attractive. There is nothing attractive about that. I’m also well aware that many women are not looking for the next Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Society places too much emphasis on the surface. I have little hope for the human race, but, if there is one thing I can do, it is to try to focus less on my daily costume and more on what I am contributing. If we want to send our children positive messages, how can we do it when all that we stress is the packaging?