Friendless Loser

Geek. Freak. Smartest in the room.

The nerd character in every Disney live-action show. In every cartoon, in all the media kids consume that tell them how to act. What is right and what is wrong.

The nerd. The nerd is always wrong. That's why everyone, even his own family bullies him, degrades him, makes him feel less than, and the story allows it, makes light of it as part of its "comedy."

Being so smart, so socially stunted and a disaster. It's only natural even others who are intelligent and exceptional cringe to see that one young person with drive in their eyes, ambition and that awe of curiosity. That freak who just can't take a hint.

Silence those rambles no one understands. And no one cares to understand. It's egotistical to expect others to humor you.

Turn down the smile, it's too big, too corny. Completely unnatural and the most inane thing to be happy about. Space pellets, lizards, crosswords, and cleaning.

What is wrong with you? What. Is. Wrong with us all.

Because, any Troper worth their salt, any writer worth poignant, living documents can agree. All of us here, we're the ones who turned to media and pages to mediate the silence. We turned to TV and actors who played their roles looking more perfect and attractive than we'd ever hope to be. Even when they were weird in the same way we are. We do this, since people more often disappointed us.

Bullied us, degraded us, made us feel less than.

And that was the right thing to do.

Since we were too smart, too verbose, too reflective, too inattentive when our thoughts turned to questions and questions turned to queries, turning to winding down staircases echoing into a dark chasm. Where an answer lay.

I'm sure, at least here, I won't have to waste the words explaining myself. Since everyone else is too dumb and the dumb tend to deflect. Tend to turn the blame onto what they refuse to understand.

Lab Rats, 2012. It's the first time I really acknowledged how... distasteful this trope was.

Chase Davenport was the youngest and the smartest. Employed his analytical mind, a mind sharper than I could ever dream, one polished to perfection from work rather than bionics. He used this mind to win the day. Chase fights his battles verbally, succinctly. With poise and with cunning. Since, his brother is bigger. His sister is faster and with less holding her back. No care for others, no desire whatsoever, to make her carer proud. Chase is a genius bionically engineered to retain and catalogue information for later use. He is the cerebral, the tactician to put brutish force and nimble agility to use in saving lives.

He is what I related to most.

The sheer want and joy to learn.

Being jeered at by peers. He had that thing wrong with him. That thing wrong that buried me in books and my math sheets much more interesting that drawing or toys.

His siblings were the only ones to deign being near him.

No one else wanted to hear him, see him.

They spent that time making light of his talents. Dismissing him out of foot. Pushing him around. Hitting him.

Chase was such a nerd.

Chase was so weird.

Of course he didn't have any friends.

Of course his siblings were embarrassed to be seen with him when he fidgeted or bounced when excited.

It was his fault. Chase had to fix himself. Be less of what everyone told him was wrong.

I could always understand better where the "smart bully" came from. The one who weaponized his intelligence against others. Made them feel less than, degraded them.

Because when your family is permitted to make light of you and laugh at you, what are you going to do except lash out? How would a person act any different if they weren't taught how? Hadn't received any different in return?

So when Lab Rats' Chase became arrogant and uptight, self-righteous, and petty toward his older brother or father-figure, he persisted as my most favorite character. I could still love him and root for him, support him and remember the geeky kid who jumped to go to school.

Then to lose a day, because the siblings preferred a wild animal with brute force and no brain to show off with, no defective tics and social disaster.

When Ravi in Jessie would behave dismissively or finicky with adults, portraying his comical physical weakness I pitied him but I didn't dislike or was annoyed by him. More, I was annoyed by the siblings who would simply use him, blame him for being bullied, insist he change himself. Refusing to tell him what my family told me when the rest of the world didn't...

"Eres tan inteligente. Estamos tan orgullosos."

Spanish optional, but the point stands.

Maybe I never bought into the 'geek-freak' narrative media seemed so intent on pushing to children, but, how many other kids did? How many turned on their set, maybe despondent, only to learn... they were the problem. It was their fault. That they were the geek, freak, nerd.

Was I bullied since my schoolmates with the privilege of cable saw me as persnickety, snitching, haughty Chase Davenport supportively torn down? Ravi Ross, the friendless loser with an odd accent and high, some may say annoying voice. I happen to like the voice! I happen to like his escapades and the full magician regalia of 'The Princess and the Pea Brain.'

How is it right to bully the smartest and only ever the smartest in the room? Why is it, Chase, Ravi, I... am not deserving of friends or support? To be appreciated and acknowledged as I am without being cruel?

Years ago, I couldn't take the words of my family to heart. Didn't feel proud for my intelligence, for my single-minded focus on schoolwork and picking up "factoids." Which I realize were incorrectly used on ANT Farm since they're the false facts used by tabloids to purposefully influence readers into believing something that is in itself untrue (thank you Logan Sanders)-- even if you may be fun to make unsympathetic, I love you you nerd.

Back to the topic, I couldn't be thankful, really acknowledge how they put up with me, even as I showed off to my older brother who was in a bad place at the time. They still loved me. They still saw me. They loved my goofs, they loved me, and never tried to tell me being outcast was my fault.