When I was 11 years old I found out that most people don't have The Mental Peanut Gallery. Do you know how scary it is to be a little kid and find out that, according to all the kids and adults around you alike, not only is The Peanut Gallery not normal, but The Peanut Gallery is actually a sign that you're broken and crazy, and if you ever tell anyone about The Peanut Gallery then they're going to try and take them away?
It won't matter if you say that you like having The Peanut Gallery. It won't matter if you say that your best friends are in The Peanut Gallery. It won't matter if you say that sometimes you switch places with someone in The Peanut Gallery and if you didn't have them then you'd be so alone. It doesn't matter that if there's no Peanut Gallery then you won't know who you are. According to the people around you, different = crazy, and crazy = needs fixing, and that means your self needs gutting and redoing until it's "right."
But here's a tricky thing about The Peanut Gallery-- they don't shut up. In fact, they resent being told to shut up. They're people too, you know. They have feelings. Thoughts. Opinions. Personalities. Worldviews. Identities. Why should they shut up? They thought everyone was equal and being yourself was OK. Didn't that include them, too?
The answer was no. No, not when you're 11 years old and not ever, said society to The Peanut Gallery. No, when we say it's OK for you to be yourself, we didn't mean you, said the classmate to The Peanut Gallery. No, you're faking, said the social media stranger to The Peanut Gallery. No, you're a disease that needs curing, said the doctor to The Peanut Gallery. No, you're not people, said society to The Peanut Gallery. Shut up and stop existing, said society to The Peanut Gallery.
What happened to The Peanut Gallery? Well, many things. Some of them started to block out their feelings until they could pass for a normal, likable, strong little kid. Some of them were filled with an anger so bright and powerful that it consumed them. Some of them retreated into themselves. Some found solace in helping others, or in escapism. Some of them became anxious wrecks. And still others believed they were monsters and grew bitter. But none of them went away.
Do you know why I say that "the future is plural"?
I say that "the future is plural" because I don't want there ever again to be a scared 11-year-old who wants to die because in their brain lives The Peanut Gallery. I don't want there to be a plural child who cries themselves to sleep because no-one loves them, all of them, ever again. I don't want there to be a plural system that bounces through incorrect diagnoses for 10 years ever again. I don't want a member of a Peanut Gallery to feel guilty for existing ever again.
The future is plural because it must be plural. It needs a place in the future. It needs a place in the future for the 11-year-old that still lives in me and for every other plural out there. Otherwise, what the fuck is the point?
And as for The Peanut Gallery... we're still here, of course. :)
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