Wasp

I guess it’s because I grew up in a very “white” background. Or that I fit the “W.A.S.P” niche of Americans perfectly. I can probably count on my fingers the number of culturally, religiously, and sexually diverse people that I knew. I went to Catholic schools, too. Not to throw any dirt in Catholic education’s direction, but it doesn’t usually attract much diversity. My parents were typical suburban hermits, the kind that poked their eyes through the blinds and gawked at the new “blacks” that had dared to move into their neighborhood and threaten their small, sheltered lives. My friends were just like me, blindly swallowing the injustices that our parents had force fed us without ever questioning why. All of us had never had any contact with the outside world, so why should we think about things that would never affect us?

So anyway, I was a bigot. I was completely oblivious to my own harsh feelings on different people, simply because I had never had to confront them. Being oblivious, however, is no excuse, and does not change the fact that I never had any desire to associate with people who were not exactly as I was.

Politics were nothing but a game to me. Whenever politics had begun to become an important issue with our parents, my friends and I would pretend to care in the most horrible way. We would simply mimic whatever our parents had told us that particular morning, amidst angry brown coffee stains on oppressed ivory newspapers, no matter how inflammatory our words would be. We’d call for the demise of liberal tendencies and all whom they represented with smiles on our faces, as if it were some hilarious joke. No one would ever question us, of course, because they all agreed with us. We’d turn down any and all independent thought in favor of mindless conformity. This lack of effort on our parts was the result of my youthful mental decay and political inactivity.

It was not until my high school years, unfortunately, until I began to shake the cobwebs off of my mind and expand my realm of comfort to include the rest of the outside world. I had went to a diversity youth camp, simply looking to fill my hypocritical, mandatory, high school service hours with apathy. What I found, however, were all of those people whom I had only read about: Those “blacks,” “Muslims,” and “gays” that were the stuff of legend. I was shocked to learn that each of these people was just like me, contrary to all of the stereotypes which had been reaffirmed by countless adults in my life up until that moment. I aged more in that week of camp than I had my entire life.

Kyle was the first homosexual that I had ever met in my life, though I didn’t know it. We had spent the entire week in the thralls of friendship, having an absolutely wonderful time together. As my cabin counselor, an adult, and an overall human being, I completely idolized Kyle, and still do to this day. At the end of the week, in one of our various conversations, the topic of sexual preference came up. It was at this time that I learned of Kyle’s homosexuality, to my absolute horror. I asked myself, “How could someone who had been such an exemplary person to me be so different?” What resulted was a breaking of glass, a melting of ice, and the glorious rebirth of my once vibrant mind. I came to the conclusion that maybe I had been led astray, and all of the stereotypes which had been beat into my head all of my life simply held no water to reality.

As is usual with situations of change, reality sought to intrude on my revelation. As I went home, I told my parents of my ordeal. Their response to discovering that my cabin counselor was gay was to frantically ask me, “My God, are you alright? Did he touch you?” Half scoffing, half laughing, I walked away from my parents at this statement, both literally and figuratively. This was my first crisis in ideals with my environment, but it only inspired me to change my environment for the better.It certainly would not be my last.

With Kyle’s shining example constantly in mind, I then tried to establish a diversity club at my Catholic high school. While my school was completely lacking in diversity, my goal was to establish awareness within my surroundings. This was, as expected, an extremely daunting task within my high school environment. Many of the school’s faculty had ridiculed me for such an idea, though it had only spurred me on to work harder towards the club’s inception. After much hardship, I established my club and began to enrich the singular environment from which I was spawned.

As I began to think for myself more and more, my political views began to carry over into the lives of those whom I cherish. After much chiding, I had eliminated my parents’ use of racial, sexual, and religious slurs. I began to surround myself with people who thought for themselves, regardless of their political or religious backgrounds. The diversity club took off, with fun and eye-opening activities for our members to interact with other students their age. I found as I began to mature in this way more into my own person, a great sense of fulfillment and inner peace gradually came to me, most likely the result of not being a political tool of oppression for others.

I then came to Albion college and was overwhelmed at the abundance of free thinkers and unique personalities that I then found myself surrounded with. I found it a thoroughly enriching environment to develop my own persona. As I met more people who had their own unique opinion on each issue, I eventually cast off my mask of hypocrisy and dove headfirst into the waters of the unknown. I was both anxious and excited to see where this new environment would take me. Only good things would come of this, I knew it.

My first and biggest accomplishment of my adult life, I believe, was my first voting experience. I had spent much time learning about each candidate and finding our which of their ideals I agreed with. After much deliberation, I selected my candidates and sent in my happy, content absentee voting ballot. On election night, as it was announced that my presidential candidate nomination had won, I felt a feeling of immense pride. I truly felt as if, at that moment in time, my adult life had finally begun. I truly started living as my own individual on that date, and my political identity will only continue to grow from there. My “stinger” has long since been left behind and I no longer blindly work for the “hive.” I only hope that, as I grow, my surroundings will grow with me.