When you think of diversity, what it the first thing that comes to mind? Race is usually the subject matter most associated with diversity. That is but one part of what is an incredibly diverse world, albeit a part that is heavily focused upon.

Back in my childhood, our grade school was as diverse as a school could be. Sam Simon from Kuwait, Ik Jung Song from Korea, Jon Irby from the Philippines-they were all just kids in the class, and race was never an issue. Jon was a super athlete, Ik wrote all our names in Korean, and it was great, it was awesome. Not until the junior high school years did race and other social issues become an issue. That is where the gangs, the social classes and the ethnic divisions started to become apparent. Some of those grade school pals fell in with colder, less hospitable groups, and although that same diversity was there, it was a different, not as friendly. There was less access to the diversity, even with kids that were considered friends. As time went on, it became clear that there were certain groups, and certain people that were no longer in “my group”, and they would never be my friend again.

Another problem with these albeit, loose knit social divisions is that if you did not choose a group to associate yourself with, or were disinclined to do so, a group would be chosen for you, usually the “nerd” group, that wanted nothing to do with these walled-off universes. That was my defacto group. Being essentially an “untouchable” was even worse than being aligned with a splinter faction, for those kids were the bullied class that all the other groups had their way with. And why not, there was nobody to back us up. One day though, the opportunity came for me to potentially join with a group of the “cooler” kids. It was 7th grade, and some guys had a problem with a friend of mine, a kid I had known since the 5th grade. We had drifted away the previous summer, and most of that year, but still, we were friends. They didn’t like him though. He wore hard dress shoes, he drew weird pictures, he talked about goofy science things-and he had a smart come back for anybody that attempted to demean him. He smart-mouthed a kid one day, a kid that most likely would have pulverized him in a fight. They discussed the impending after school fight in the back of the class. My friend was refusing to fight the bigger kid. I sat there listening, hoping there was another way. There was.

“Ok, how about him,” said the bigger kid, pointing straight at me. My heart dropped into my stomach. He was my friend. One of the other guys gave me a thumbs up. “Take this guy out,” he growled under his breath. Several kids, including a couple of pretty girls with whom I had mild crushes on, were awaiting my answer. My friend looked at me, and my eyes darted away. I couldn’t look. “All right,” I mumbled, succumbing to the pressure, but at the same time joining a new world of friends. At least that was the expectation.

Class finally let out, and it seemed like half the school had showed up for this fight. My friend stood alone in an absolute sea of hostility. What did he do? Someone suddenly yelled the command to fight, and I stepped forward, throwing a half-hearted punch that missed badly. He didn’t miss though. My now former friend was fighting for his survival, and he beat me badly. It was a well deserved beating, but one that was frowned upon by the cool kids. They weren’t my friends after all; they just wanted to see two “nerds” beat the hell out of each other. They got their show, and I not only lost a friend, but was never even considered a friend by that group of punks.

That incident stays with me to this day. The rest of my school years were a lonely road for the most part. After that, anybody was welcome to be my friend, and though there were some, it was still lonely. A protected group or a diverse nobody? I chose to be a nobody. Diversity can be wonderful, but without some kind of commonality it becomes its own worst enemy. United we stand, divided we fall.