A Square Peg in a World Full of Round Holes.

“Andrew?”

“Present,” he replied, straightening himself in his chair and folding his hands neatly on his desk. After he was sure the instructor had moved down the roll far enough to where she would not look at him again, he looked over at his best friend Grace. She wore her long, blonde hair in a messy braid; he looked over just in time to see her push the unbrushed locks from around her face. It was unlike all the other girls who had short, straight haircuts. Her uniform was a little wrinkled, and her shirt was untucked in the back--she’d probably get in trouble for that at some point during the day.

“She and I could not be more different,” Andrew thought to himself. He followed the rules of conformity to a tee, and though Grace was by far the most selfless, generous, and loving person he’d ever met, she struggled to conform as easily as the others, and it often got her into trouble. Despite this, there was something so sweet about her, something that made him want to be around her. He felt like he could breathe a bit easier when he was with her, at least that’s the best way he felt he could describe it. She brushed her braid to the side once more, and Andrew smiled softly as he saw that it revealed the necklace he’d given her when they were only about seven or eight. They were in high school now, and she still wore it after all these years, proving the longevity of their friendship.

The lecture began. It was on the value of conformity. The room fell silent, and each student possessed a posture of perfect attentiveness. The only sound besides the voice of the lecturer was the occasional shuffling of Grace in her chair.

After a long day, the bell to end the day finally rang. The hallways teemed with students slamming lockers and hurriedly gathering their things to head home for the nightly Presidential speech. It was required to watch on television, where all of society would be reminded by their leader of the importance of conformity.

“Hey Andrahhhh,” yelled Grace down the hall. She was the only one who knew his real name, and she often playfully called out to him in reference of it. It was obscure--his family line was Greek and his parents had given him the name Andrapodo (transliterated). He had taken on the name Andrew for the sake of conformity, however. There were clearly no other people with such a strange name.

“Hey Grace, are we still walking home from school together?”

“Of course,” she replied, “let’s go.”

At that moment their instructor from first period grabbed Grace by the arm.

“Tomorrow,” she said sternly, “make sure you iron that shirt. And tuck it in all the way too. You see the way everyone else is doing it don’t you?” She gestured to the remaining students in the hallway.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll be sure to do that.”

Conformity is Good.

Grace and Andrew began walking home. They enjoyed each other’s company. They’d grown up together and had always found it pleasant to be around each other. They talked about how school had been going and how the weather had been a bit cold lately. They laughed about something Grace’s mother had said the night before--she laughed more than anyone else he knew. They were enjoying themselves.

Just then, however, they heard shouting and a door slamming. They quickly turned to see an older man being jerked out of his shabby, run down home by the Law Keepers. The Law Keepers were the conformity police--they were everywhere. Even if you didn’t see them when you looked around, they were there. Grace and Andrew stared as the violent arrest unfolded.

“Sir, you are aware that conformity includes paying for your food,” one of the authorities spat venomously.

“I-I… I’m sorry,” the old man stuttered, terrified. “I couldn’t afford the bread, but my family is starving. I never wanted to steal, but I was scared for their lives. I love them so much, I couldn’t bear to see them starve.”

They Law Keepers didn’t respond to his excuse, they just took turns beating on him as they listed the "Laws of Conformity" in unison.

Andrew looked over at Grace. She was horrified. Her fists were clenched, her breathing was heavy, and she had tears running down her face.

“Why are they doing that to him, why do they have to be so harsh,” she asked. Andrew shook his head slowly.

“Grace, he wasn’t conforming. He deserved it. Come on let’s get out of here. You know if they see how upset you are you could get in trouble too.” Just then, one of the Law Keepers looked their way. They froze.

“Hey! Beat it,” he yelled, “let this be a lesson to the both of you! Now move along before we do the same to you!” Grace and Andrew both quickly turned and headed home.

Suppress the Truth. Replace the Truth.

The next day, Andrew walked into class five minutes early as usual. Roll call began shortly after. He answered, sat up straight, folded his hands neatly, and waited, just like usual. He looked over to Grace’s desk, only to find her chair empty. She did not come to school that day or the next day. She was out for three days. On the third day, as Andrew walked to school, he began to feel a little worried. It was against the rules to miss that many lecture periods, especially in a row, and although Grace struggled to conform, she would never take it that far. I’ll go check on her after school, he thought. He was five minutes early, as usual, and as he walked through the door to his class he was shocked to see Grace. She was sitting up straight with her hands folded neatly on her desk. She was never early. Her hair was now short and straight, just like the other girls’, and her uniform was tucked in nice and neatly. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Um, Grace? Hi...where have you been,” he asked, still in total disbelief.

“Hello Andrew,” she said. It felt a little weird hearing her call him Andrew, as she usually referenced his real name. “I wasn’t feeling well, but I am doing much better now.” Just then, he noticed something that kind of hurt him.

“Hey, where’s the necklace I gave you?” he asked. She’d worn it everyday for years, but it wasn’t around her neck today.

She looked around before looking back at him. “Andrew, do you see anyone else wearing one?” He shook his head. “Then I don’t want to wear one either.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was Grace. This was the girl who laughed too much. The girl who cried when the Law Keepers arrested people. The girl who couldn’t conform perfectly no matter how hard she tried. “What’s gotten into you, Grace?” he asked.

“Conformity is good, Andrew,” she replied flatly. She turned in her desk to face the instructor, sat up straight, and folded her hands on her desk. Andrew went through the day in a fog, he couldn’t figure out what was going on with his best friend.

The bell for the end of the day rang. It was the first day of the month, which meant it was the Day of Suppression. This meant that instead of the nightly Presidential speech, the students and their families were to go to the Suppression Chambers to see where all of the nonconformists were kept. Anyone who had a problem of nonconformity was arrested and held in the chambers to learn how to suppress their impulses so that they could be conforming members of society. These visits were supposed to remind society how dangerous nonconformity can be.

Andrew and Grace walked side by side without saying a word, following the rest of their fellow classmates to the Chambers. They arrived and entered the dreadful looking building. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors filled with cramped cells holding all the offenders of the Law, they overheard the wailing and thrashing about of those undergoing Suppression treatment. He looked over at Grace, who usually cried the entire time they walked through the Chambers. She’d always hated the first of the month for that reason. Her face, however, was empty of emotion. “They deserve to be here,” she stated flatly.

The Realization.

As they came to the end of the last corridor, Andrew looked into one of the cells to see someone about his age being beaten by the Law Keepers in their cell. He usually never felt any emotion when people were punished for their nonconformity, but he was strangely upset by what he was seeing. “Suppression is good. Conformity is good,” the Law Keepers said in unison as they beat the inmate. He watched until they were finished. He noticed that the inmate was female, and through all of her wounds she looked vaguely familiar. He couldn’t stop staring.

“It’s time to go, Andrew,” Grace said, “but what a privilege it is to be able to come here and learn from the mistakes of others. Conformity is good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning reluctantly to leave, “you’re right. Conformity is good.” He somehow didn’t believe it wholeheartedly like he usually did. How could following the Law be so good if it resulted in such pain? He felt a little disillusioned. As they walked toward the door to exit, he turned to look at the girl one last time. He then noticed something that nearly paralyzed him. Around the neck of the law-beaten girl in her cell was the necklace that he’d given Grace as a young child. Their eyes met and he finally understood. Though now wounded and imprisoned, she’d had the key to freedom all along.