I'm a nerd

The other day I caught myself standing in my driveway totally engrossed in my Wired magazine. I heard my neighbor say, “Hey!” And I looked over at him and said, “Hey, look the Muppets are on the cover this month,” and I held up the magazine to show him. He looked at me like I was a weirdo and said, “Okay.” He quickly walked to his mailbox to retrieve his mail and I looked down at my feet and realized I was wearing my socks with sandals and I had my glasses on. “Geez, I’m a nerd,” I thought to myself.

            There was a time in my life when I would have been ashamed of myself for being a nerd. And there is no doubt that I was definitely a nerd growing up. I had crazy, untamed long hair, large round glasses, and crooked teeth. In fifth grade, my parents let me get contact lenses, so I finally lost the glasses. In 7^th grade they got me braces and fixed my teeth. I started saving my money and buying my own clothes, and I was able to shed my nerdy appearance.

Apparently my glasses weren't bad enough so my mom made my sister and I matching outfits to wear in public which enabled us to make this pilgrim woman look cool.

            But I never could cure my nerdy heart. Fortunately, I went to a small high school and my classmates and I were all pretty good friends. Everyone knew I was a nerd, but I was still cool. My senior year of high school I got a phone call from an Army recruiter. He asked to speak to Mr. Kim Wade. I said, “I’m Kim, but I’m not a guy.” He asked me if I went to Dublin High School and I confirmed that I did. He was confused—apparently I made the highest score on the math and science section of the test they give all high school seniors. He just assumed I was a guy since, in his words, “girls never outscore boys on math and science.”

By the time I started college, I had accepted the fact that I was drawn to books about science and technology and I didn’t try to hide them anymore. But I was more drawn to the smell of old hardcover literature books, so I majored in English. It was a tough decision when I declared my major and it was something that I would regret later. I loved hanging out in the science building and doing lab work. But I loved working at the school newspaper more.

            Being a nerd was not appreciated during my marriage though. I remember my ex and I driving down to Florida for a vacation with the kids. I was engrossed in a book in the car and he asked me what I was reading. “It’s a book about the Voyager spacecraft,” I said. “Why?” he asked. “Because it’s pretty interesting. Did you know that one of Jupiter’s moons has a volcano?” He laughed, “Oh my God, you’re a nerd.” I thought to myself, “Go ahead and laugh, it doesn’t faze me.”

But I worry about my kids, especially Veronica. It seems that letting people know you are smart is akin to slapping a “kick me” sign on your back. I am already trying to instill in them the idea that being smart and reading books is what makes you really cool—so far they are buying it. Their love for fantasy and science fiction is already very present. And bringing Robby into the mix only magnifies their love for knowledge. He’s probably a bigger nerd than I am—our combined random knowledge of unusual facts and movie trivia could overpower any TV game show.

I’m sure one day, we’ll be known as the nerdiest family ever. But I’m totally okay with that. And as I sit here wearing my goofy glasses and my socks with sandals, I think to myself that I hope there never comes a day when I don’t do something nerdy. But after 36 years of practice, I don’t see that day ever coming.