One For The Freaks and The Outcasts
I’ve heard a lot of good things about Stranger Things, and only recently got into it. What I knew was that it was another ET/IT inspired Goonies trip through the weird world where adults are completely useless, and set in the 1980s, the era in which said kinds of movies made their debut. I love the crap out of those movies and the newer releases — like Super 8, and Earth to Echo. Out of those books and stories, we learned to appreciate both horror and beauty, we learned that there existed in our sewers monsters like Pennywise but also wonders like ET, we learned that adults didn’t have all the answers and not to grow up too fast — the world is too big to take in all at once. So I knew I was going to like Stranger Things, but after listening to the SAG Awards speech by David Harbour (the one with Winona Ryder making faces next to him and the kids jumping around like, well, kids, hahahaha) I have come to realise one other thing.

This isn’t just a story for the nostalgic. This is a story for the freaks and the outcasts. This is a story for the kids who spend two weeks planning a D&D campaign and then spend ten hours playing it. This is a story for kids who devour everything Tolkien and name the unnamed path through the woods Mirkwood in an exceptionally geeky fashion. This is a story for the kids who weren’t exactly bullied, but weren’t made to feel welcome at school either. This is a story for kids who had to sit in their older brothers’ rooms as their parents yelled at each other. This is a story for kids who have an incredibly wicked cool older brother who likes The Clash and makes you mix tapes of other punk stuff to get your mind off the issues at home.

This is a story for the older brother himself, forced to grow up far too soon to help a single mom with two boys survive out in the sticks. This is a story for those who have a passion that others may not agree with and won’t hesitate to call you a freak for liking. This is a story for those who may have had to put their dreams on hold to help the people they love, only daring occasionally to indulge and dive deep into their own dreams when they feel it’s safe. This is a story for those who live on the fringe, either by choice or otherwise, unable to join a society that neither understands nor wants them in their midst.

This is a story for the single mother whose world is shattered as one man leaves her, forcing her to pick up the pieces by herself — and begrudgingly accepting her son’s offer of help, realising that she’s costing him his innocence. This is a story for the mother whose entire life revolves around her boys — and is forced to see one of them ripped away from her. This is a story for those who have faith, who refuse to despair, who will clutch to any straw they can to keep the faith alive, even if it is utterly unbelievable or one she thought was denied her all this while.
This is a story for the ex-big city cop who is thrown down a rabbit hole but refuses to let go of what’s right and what’s wrong. This is a story for the friends who never give up hope. This is a story for the kids whose sense of wonder is yet to be dulled. This is a story for those forging a new friendship. This is a story for those aching over the end of an old one. This is a story for the teenager dealing with peer pressure, for the parents of the teens and kids watching their children grow more and more distant.
Stranger Things is for everyone who has ever wished themselves someplace else with a different face. It is for those who have never been able to sit right, chafing at the expectations placed on them by society and the people around them. It is for the freaks and the outcasts, the necessary outliers on the normal distribution curve. It is the sticks; the outer limits of the sane and the comfortable, where Stranger Things than what you’re used to can happen.

