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  • Conformity
    All in step.
    All with the same uniform.
    All with the same stare.
    All rigid.
    One man is different - I call him Corporal Whitesocks.

    I stared at this scene in Beijing and wondered what will happen. Will they laugh and ridicule Whitesocks for being different?

    Conformity is so entrenched in our society - even with our tattoos, our ties, our coloured cars, shoes and blouses with a reek of individuality, still shout conformity. We may not admit to it, but we strive to conform, but with a tad of differentness to define the this is me. Even the UN, representing different countries, different cultures, different histories, comes together wearing meticulous, perfectly cut and fitted, grey cloth cut as last century's suits - oh I nearly forgot, with differently coloured banners, those neckties. Baah baah baah!

    June 1955, a blond blue-eyed seven year old boy experienced his first day at school wearing his 'uniform' - corduroy ("what is that?" they asked) shorts and a too well-ironed tartan shirt. He spoke funny 'Dutchie'. A shove, a hit, Patrick got a blood nose, the headmaster smacked, the immigrant boy learned his first lesson in Australia.

    Never again!

    He became the bully in his career.

    He learned that day back in '55. Never again would he wear "corduroy" when every one else is wearing cotton. He would master English, be smart look the same but the scars of '55 never made him truly Australian. He became a "loose cannon" (bully) as an industry consultant and .... and...

    Thank you Corporal Whitesocks for helping me reflect. I can be just me.
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