“Island of Misfit People”

Like every kid, I used to watch the same Christmas movies year after year. Every time I watched those Christmas movies, I felt that I was somehow like those toys on the Island of Misfit Toys. I didn’t fit in anywhere in the world, except with other misfits. This was not something that was made up in my mind. It was a truth in my life. The misfits were the only people I fit in with. They were the only ones that simply accepted me and my quirks.

There are many groups of people in school and in life. In school, there are always the jocks, the cheerleaders, popular people, ROTC members, the emo’s, the skaters, scenes kids, nerds/AP students, choir/band members, and drama geeks. These groups sometimes branch out into adult life. There is one group of people, however, that I didn’t mention. They are the people that do not fit in any of the groups listed above. This group is what I like to call “The Island of Misfit People. ”

I am a misfit toy. I’ve never been interested in sports, but I was a cheerleader once. I didn’t really fit in. I was friends with the popular people before they became popular. They always thought I was strange. I was in ROTC. Didn’t really work out for me. I’m too happy to be an emo. I’m to clumsy to be a skater. Scene kids, in my opinion, are similar to emo’s. I was always in the AP and Honors classes, but I was a horrible student and the nerds thought I was was weird. People in band thought my choice of the French Horn was strange. Almost as strange as me. In drama (outside of the classroom), I never did much more than back stage work. I wasn’t really dramatic enough to fit in with the drama geeks.

As you can see, I either attempted to fit in or knew that I wouldn’t fit in with pretty much every group. I did, however, fit in with the misfits. The other people that didn’t fit in with the groups. Granted, none of them had Asperger Syndrome like me, but they still didn’t fit in. They, because they had also felt the sting of rejection, were more open and accepting of others and their quirks.

Because I’ve seen how accepting and kind or how bitter and angry these people are, it makes me question the world. “Why can’t everyone be as understanding as the people that are rejected by them?” or “Can’t those people see how bitter life can become from being rejected?” The world can be cruel to those that are different. Bad things happen because of the worlds cruelty. People cut themselves, commit or attempt suicide, act in a promiscuous manner, drink, or do drugs to try to make the pain go away. Good things can come of it too. People can create organizations, become counselors, or motivational speakers to help those that are going through the same thing that they went through. As for me, I’m happy with being a misfit toy. I know that I’m unique. I know that I’m special. I know that my friends are my friends because they like who I am and not for shallow reasons. I’m happy that I can say that of myself too. My friends are my friends because I like them for who they are and not their looks, social status, or level of education.  Everyone is welcome on my island. Misfit or not.


Misfit and Happy,



3 thoughts on ““Island of Misfit People”

  1. Exactly! Following now too. Keep the insights coming, please. I really appreciate your perspective. And actually, as someone who lives half-way between Harvard and MIT, I can tell you that our neighborhood is so full of “misfits” (brilliant, interesting, genius misfits) that they outnumber everyone.

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