Embracing Differences… Letting Your Freak Flag Fly!

PART 1 ARTICLE 6 AUDIO FILE IN FOOTER

As she, the indisputable queen of the mollusks, sits in precious solitude, gracing the beach with her beauty and self-assurance, a jealous yet diverse in-crowd of shellfish, a mere eel-lengths away, murmurs maliciously.

The clam, sporting his tight, smug grin, sneers, “Who does she think she is?”

Only recently welcomed into the group after a long-overdue liberalization of mollusk culture, the mussel, forgetting that he too was once scorned for the color of his shell, can’t help but chime in. “She is such a freak!”

Admiring her own graceful, spiraling horns and the opalescent pink of her interior, the conch reluctantly acknowledges the traits they share. Still, she asserts with a hint of disdain, “Doesn’t she know she’s just too much of a good thing?”

The oyster, glowing with inner pride, adds, “I hold one of the world’s most precious treasures inside, yet I would never flaunt it the way she does so shamelessly!”

Meanwhile, the crab looks on, brimming with disgust. He hates them all.

The sand dollar, with teeth inside shaped like perfect little doves and an outer shell boasting artful symmetry, stays silent. She longs for the day a wave will carry her close enough to the goddess to glean the secret of her self-assurance.

This catty—or should I say, “shelly”—group scuttles away, propelled by whatever unimaginable means they possess. Their imagined superiority would undoubtedly be reflected in their upturned noses, if only they had them.

The goddess projects a Mona Lisa smile, despite her lack of a mouth, deeply confident that she is exactly who she was meant to be. With not a hint of hostility, she reflects:

Mr. Clam, someday you will make a fine chowder.  

Mussel man, you will soon become the star of a spectacular Mozambique sauce.

My conch friend, you’ll bring joy to a child who will proudly display you in a collection, only for it to be abandoned in a dusty old attic.  

And the pride and joy of my oyster friend will adorn someone’s hand, making her feel elegant by virtue of her exquisite pearl ring.”

As for the crab, with his cantankerous personality? He’ll meet his fate when a group of inebriated bros bash him apart with wooden mallets on a red-checkered tablecloth, eager to consume his grumpy self.

A gentle wave of white foam carries the sand dollar, as she’s always wished, right next to one of the goddess’s unearthly projections. She sits in nonjudgmental, peaceful awe of the creature who, with pride and self-assurance, lets her freak flag fly.

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