I have always been an “unc,” despite only being in my early twenties.
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the word unc comes from African-American English and is an abbreviation of uncle. The term was originally used for uncles or older men, but in recent years the internet has appropriated the word, using “unc status” to describe someone who acts older than their age in addition to people who are old or getting old.
I first noticed my unc status at age 15 during a trip to Italy. I desperately wanted to spend time admiring medieval and Renaissance art or bask in the splendour of Gothic cathedrals. My peers, however, were far more interested in taking photos for social media. I quickly realized I had different interests and priorities compared to others in my age group. It certainly did not help that I was nicknamed Gramps for the rest of that trip.
Being an old soul can be isolating. I am often the only person in the audience without grey hair at a classical music concert (and the only person of colour, too). It also prompts strange reactions. I mentally brace myself for the awkward silence and blank stares that typically ensue when I tell people I unironically play fiddle music. I am mad for tweed blazers and wool sweaters, or “old people clothes,” as many in my life have lovingly put it.
Despite my work in arts and culture, I find it difficult to follow popular culture, and I am frequently lost in conversations about the latest trends and celebrities. I am somehow both chronically online and perpetually out of the loop. If you have ever approached me with a piece of celebrity gossip, I probably had no idea who you were talking about, sorry. This comes from a place of genuine disinterest, but I would be lying if I said I did not actively avoid the mass-produced and algorithm-driven content designed to be nothing more than a cash grab. Does my “unc-ness” come with a tinge of snobbery? Perhaps.
It is also disappointing that the resurgence in vintage fashion and lifestyles, particularly in online spaces, is sometimes accompanied by conservatism, with people blindly romanticising the “good old days” without critical evaluation of the racial and gender inequalities of the time. I, for one, have no desire to align myself with these notions, and my affinity for old things does not extend to outdated values and bigoted beliefs.
However, on the flip side, having unusual interests makes my relationship with those who can match my wavelength extra precious, and some of the best moments of my life have been spent with people who are equally as oddly specific and nerdy about cultural history as I am. It allows me to identify the people who matter, and I do everything to nurture meaningful connections with them.
More importantly, I slowly realized that people who just don’t get it might shrug or give me an odd look, but they quickly move on with their lives. It is true that we all make value judgments of other people, whether consciously or not, but life is too short to be preoccupied with what someone may or may not be thinking inside their heads.
It is also entirely possible that I have lost the plot. Perhaps I have been overly focusing on my differences with people and overlooking our commonalities. I like to think that human beings are infinitely complicated and diverse, and there are always facets of our psyche that are incomprehensible to anyone but ourselves. Maybe being peculiar in our own ways is just a part of what it means to be human.
I am aware of the great risk of sounding “woe is me” with this article. I can assure you that I am not trying to make myself a martyr over a trivial issue, and we all know there are bigger fish to fry in the grand scheme of things. I am not bashing conformity either, and there is a right time and place for expressing oneself. But embracing my unconventional side is one of the most liberating things I have done for myself, as cliché as it may be.
In the meantime, I will continue to yearn for antique dark wood furniture and go on long walks to nowhere in particular. If you ever see me wearing a grandpa sweater and a flat cap on campus, know that it is my way of living authentically — and I urge everyone to find their own way of achieving that.
