Difference and Uncertainty Ashley S. Tyner

As a child I always felt like I was missing something, as though everyone else was tuned into a common understanding of life to which I was oblivious. I first realized this when, in the third grade, I was sentenced to a fifteen minute “time out” session for asking too many questions. My teacher ordered me to think about my actions and my utter inability to follow the rules. The rules, I learned, included don’t ask why.

I was an inquisitive nine-year-old, unable to take anything for face value. I yearned to know where language started, how the universe came into being, why things must die. Other students wondered why I insisted on asking meaningless questions and refusing to just go with the flow. Teachers felt that these inquiries disrupted the classroom. I often sat in my chair with my hand raised for what seemed like an eternity, twitching and waiting desperately to be called on while teachers did everything they could to ignore me. They did not understand my need to understand things on a deeper level, that I would never be satisfied with superficial knowledge.

As I grew older, I discovered a medium through which to cultivate and satisfy my desire to know. Writing became a silent outlet, one that allowed me to question and...