One day, during my Freshman year of high school, one of my teachers pointed out in front of the class that I had a weird sense of humor. “Yeah, but I’m not the only one,” I responded.

He doubled down. “Yeah, but yours is way out there.” At that moment, the conversation went from playful to isolating. I acknowledged that I had a bizarre sense of humor, but he went further and made me feel different. And, this teacher was a family friend! My sense of humor started to become a source of shame. I tried to hide the more bizarre side of my sense of humor, only sharing the humorous side that I knew others would appreciate.

November 25, 2018 marks 12 years since my friend Ian died. Ian and I sat next to each other in band class 7th and the first part of 8th grade. Ian played the trombone, and I pretended to play the trombone. Ian loved music and was probably too talented to play in the junior high band. I hated band and did not want to be there. Because Ian did not need to try very hard and I did not want to try, we often goofed around. Our favorite way to amuse ourselves was to quote Monty Python, and yes, we used British accents while doing so