Rethinking “Weird”

By Judy Lee ‘17

I love the song Chandelier. Hell, I love Sia Furler in general. She is an incredible artist and will always be one of my favorites. 

She’s not for everyone, though. She wasn’t even for me when I first listened to her album We Are Born as a sophomore in high school. It wasn’t for another couple of years until I came to fully appreciate her voice, her lyrics, and the raw vulnerability in her discography. 

But before that, I found her a little too weird.

 With the release of her trilogy of music videos from her newest album: 1000 Forms of Fear (which are supposed to depict stages of her life), a lot of people echoed my initial sentiments. You can see the three of them below:

It’s not uncommon to hear someone call something weird. Whether they’re referring to food, a music video, or even another person. It’s acceptable to refer to something as weird if it’s abnormal to you because that’s just how we express the feelings of well…weirdness about it.

I use it all the time to describe everything and everyone—though rarely as an insult. I’ve also had it used to describe me (intentions less defined).

Remember when you didn’t remember to switch around the “e” and the “i” and then the word looked….well….wierd?

Remember when being weird meant that you needed to set yourself on fire for being a reject? Remember when being weird then became the latest fad; when it was a badge of individuality and quirkiness?

Yeah, it’s been through a lot (as have we).

Here’s what I’ve noticed lately:

When I use the word “weird” as a pointed declaration, it’s usually to refer to things that make me uncomfortable. If I see a modern dance, the dancers may not move in a way I’m used to seeing, which then makes me uncomfortable. Weird.

When I read a book with an ending I didn’t expect and the outcome nudged me a little too far outside my comfort zone: weeeiird.

Someone is exhibiting behaviors that neither me, my family, or my friends exhibit: weeeeeiiiiird.

It’s taken me a while to realize just how dismissive of a word it is. Usually, when I hear the term, I don’t hear much said about it after that.

“Hm, that’s weird.”

“Oh, that’s weird.”

“That’s so weird.”

Cue next conversational topic.

Only now have I realized just how detrimental it can be to dismiss something that makes you uncomfortable, even if it seems like a little word.

If I had taken more time to look into modern dance and its origins, or the context in which a book was written, I would have learned so much more from those unsettling experiences. 

If I had taken more time to question which part of me was unsettled by the experience, I would have learned so much more about myself.

After all, isn’t everything we like weird to us at first? We’re attracted to things that stand out from the white noise. Why do we give some things more chances than others? 

With this realization, arose my epiphany: embracing the odd should always remain an open possibility. Every instance in which something unsettles you is a calling for you to break out of your shell and venture a little more into the world around you.