The Tails We Don’t Have To Cut

Within the small, unambitious world of rats, there lived a rat with seven tails. This rat was extremely insecure about his six extra tails because the other rats would stare at him all the time. Some of them were nice, but others were hateful and called him names. One day, the rat had decided that since his extra tails had brought him so much misery, he would cut them off. He endured the pain, and he was excited for the next day when everyone would finally greet him with love and acceptance. When he went to school the next day, no one stared at him, no one called him names. But he felt that something was missing, a part of him. It was then that he understood the value of his six extra tails, how they were a part of him, how it was not truly his decision to cut them off, rather it was a decision that the pitfalls of conformity made for him. Without his tails, he felt empty, he felt like a stranger in his own skin. 

This is a very famous Indian folktale, and being an Indian-American, this fable was not only recited to me many times but it also applies to me. I was born in America, but I lived in India from the first grade to the end of my fourth grade. At that time India was my home. However, when I found out that we were going to move to the United States, I wasn’t upset. I was excited, for change, for an even better life. It wasn’t until I had set foot in America that I understood how different I would be. When I went to school, my clothes, the way I did my hair, the way I used my hands, all of the normal,  mundane, parts of my daily life became my greatest insecurities. My biggest insecurity, however, was my accent. I went from being an outspoken student who sparked discussions and led debates, to a silent introvert at the back of the classroom, all because of my accent. 

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and over time, the fear of speaking differently became a fear of speaking at all. At this point, I was afraid to even use my voice. I, who knew I had the potential to create emotion with my every word, had grown ashamed of my voice. In the simplest terms, my life was an immense disappointment, until the day I learned that I would have to present a project in front of the entire class. I spent a week drowning in the endless abyss of anxiety. I even made a plan to fake an accent. 

Then, the day came, sweat was running down my palms as I walked to the front of the classroom. When I opened my eyes and looked at my classmates, however, I didn’t feel any anxiety, and my intentions to improvise an accent vanished. All of my classmates’ eyes faced my own, and that is when I realized that each set of eyes was either a different shade, different color, or a different shape from the rest. Each pair was different in some way or form. Each pair had their own stories to tell, about things they had seen, the worlds they had dreamt of at night. And instead of seven tails, I had my very own set of beautiful, brown eyes, and I had a beautiful life, a beautiful family, a beautiful mind. I realized that day that I was, and still am, a beautiful person, and the best thing that I could do, for myself and the world, was to be unapologetically myself. I presented that day with a kind of confidence I had never really felt before. Over time, my accent faded away, but I will always remember the day when I learned just how loud and clear my voice could be when I didn’t try to hide my differences.

Humans are not rats. We might not have tails, but we have our personalities, we have our ways,  have our stories, and our backgrounds. There is something that makes every one of us unique from the nameless masses we are pushed into our entire life. That is our extra tail. There will be times when we get annoyed by our extra tail, sometimes it becomes a weight to bear. There will be times when people make fun of our extra tail. However, those of us who choose not to cut our extra tail, even during times of adversity are the ones who will shine. Those who embrace who they are without trying to change anything about themselves are the ones who will shine. Our extra tails are what make us different and remarkable. And if we keep that which makes us different, we will unite; not by setting aside our differences but by embracing them.

This post was written by Shreya Arukil, and edited by Sreya Kalapala