Continue to take away our most basic rights. We live in a country where a book is still judged by its cover. As cliché as that sounds, it’s true. It’s been the story of my life in a way.

      From my years in catholic school, where even though my grades were very high they “labeled” me a trouble maker. Not that I ever started any trouble, but rather because to them I looked the part, long hair, leather jacket, boots. Thus I started for the first time in my life to get into trouble in school. At first I was hauled in to the office for everything from writing on the bathroom walls to missing money. Now, I never committed any of these offenses but I was always the lead suspect. They always looked out of the corners of there eyes at me, like I had gotten away with something and they were going to figure out what it was. Well years of this began to takes it toll on me, and I eventually began to do things I knew would piss them off. Kinda like the guy who gets caught cheating on his wife and when confronted by Jerry Springer, his excuse is that she was always accusing him of cheating so he figured what the hell. So pretty much all my catholic school years gave me a distain for authority and religion.

      Now armed with a hatred for authority and a sarcastic wit I entered high school. Surely the stereotype and past indiscretions wouldn’t follow me there; after all, this is public school. I figured I would just be another long haired, bearded face in the crowd, the way I like it. I was wrong. Almost instantly I was targeted as trouble, granted at this point I had a few childish stunts under my belt from catholic school but still was far from a trouble maker. I once again excelled in my classes but still was one of the usual suspects every time there was a round up. I was never “convicted” of anything worse then skipping class yet still I was asked to leave school. I was put into an afternoon program called afternoon school. It was like the name implies, after school, from 2:00 – 4:00. It was for all the behavior problem kids and pregnant girls. I on the other hand was there strictly because of what I looked like and the schools perception of who I was. For 90% of the kids in this program it was a badge of honor. I must admit I loved it too. I could stay up late and sleep late. Thus I would start honing my partying skills to a fine point.

Once again the system failed me and sent me in the wrong direction. In afternoon school I was academically superior to everybody else in my class. So the routine became, I do the work, witch usually consisted of a single piece of paper hand out, then I would pass it around the room. Everybody would copy the answers making sure to purposely get a couple wrong; ya know just to make it look good. This went on for 4 years and I graduated.

       After HS, my circle of friends was all the drop outs I was partying with during the day and the kids I was with in afternoon school. With a few exceptions. I was out of HS and labeled no good, trouble, a real slacker. With that resume I continued to party and work some lame ass jobs that I hated every minute of. This went on for years. All because of the way I looked and now lived. I had become what they said I was in a way.

      They were winning. Don’t get me wrong I was having fun and still love the friends I made then. I was more determined to make something of myself but on my terms, I wasn’t going to become another cookie cutter straight laced nobody. I would make something of myself but I would not conform. I didn’t want to work for somebody who thought I needed to clean up my look. I wanted to work for the person who thought I could do the job I was hired for well. With a HS diploma there really weren’t that many great jobs out there.

      After years of pretty much doing nothing I meet my wife. She is truly my soul mate. She loved all the same things I love, Harley Davidson’s, Dogs, and living each day to the fullest. We hit it right off. She was so much like me but had her life together. She served as both an inspiration and a guiding force in my life and remains it to this day and I love her for it. She enabled me to make something of myself for two reasons, the example she set and my need to be a better person because of her. Well it was what I needed. I returned to school at night and learned a trade. A trade that I work at everyday and love doing. There was nothing left to do but marry her, so I did. I wasn’t about to let my muse go.

      Life was good; I had made something of myself on my terms. I never compromised my principles. I felt that I had beaten them, they hadn’t won after all. This feeling would be short lived.

       As I mentioned before I have a love of Harleys and had been riding them for years, and met some of the best people in the world in my travels in that circle. Eventually, I joined a club. They didn’t like that. It was and still is bunch of guys who in one way or another came up through the same ranks that had spit me out. Beside our love of motorcycles and riding we all share a kinship, a brotherhood. With this new chapter of my life, started the same old shit I thought I had beaten. I’m no longer a kid. I am a man. A man who goes to work every day, pays his taxes and is a good husband. Still, they judge me. Once again I’m being labeled but this label was and is to be the one I will never be able to shake. That is becoming more and more apparent every day. I may have a goatee down to the center of my chest, ride a Harley, and ride with a 1% club. Does that make me a second class citizen? Does that make me a threat to society? It sure as hell doesn’t! In fact the whole motorcycle club world, keeps to itself and moves in its own circle. Don’t bother us and we won’t bother you. Show us respect and we’ll show you the same. What could be more simple then that? In fact the world would be a much better place if more people lived by our codes. But they wouldn’t have you believe that. They tell you how we are bad people; we all sell and use drugs. We all carry guns and live in a violent underworld. Scary huh? Well, the fact is that just like in any other group, cops, fireman, doctors, and even politician there are good and bad people. The difference is when one biker is arrested for drugs, suddenly we all use them. When one biker kills another for whatever reason, we are a society of violent thugs. This is what they want you to believe. The truth is that the only thing we are a threat to is authority. We scare them. We are the last of the truly free man, outlaws. Every time a cop is caught beating his wife, they all aren’t labeled wife beaters. Every time a doctor gets caught driving drunk, they all aren’t labeled drunks. That rule only seems to apply to bikers. They have to use this tactic; otherwise society wouldn’t be scared of us, thus making harder for them to harass and try to break us up. Stereotypes in any form is dangerous. They cause otherwise seemingly intelligent people to do bad things.

       I have always made a point of being polite to people I meet just in the hope of breaking another stereotype for that person. So maybe the next time a guy that looks like me walks into there store or restaurant they treat him like the customer that he is, not the made up monster they’d have you believe if they had there way.