Last April there was a required assignment for all American Studies classes. National History Day projects were written and built by students who were researching a certain person in history and to prove that they were important. Students were allowed to have a choice person. I picked John Lennon and spent the next 45 days becoming an expert on The Walrus. I don’t know why I picked him; probably the fact that I listen to the Beatles non-stop. Or maybe it was the frustration built up over the years from people telling me I was born about 40 years too late. Either way, it didn’t matter. I did hate the amount of work that we had to put into the project, but it made me change my point of view about a lot of things. He was a strong advocate for peace and love, and I think that some of his ideas became my own.
I started to talk to people I normally wouldn’t notice. I made it a point to be kind to others. I tried to never start an argument and if I became involved in one, I tried to resolve it in the best interests of everyone involved. Over the summer I noticed that I had changed and thought, “Why do we have to be the way we are? Why can’t we all be nice to each other?” We were all brought up being told to “obey the Golden Rule”, but not everyone took that to heart. I didn’t see why I shouldn’t help someone clean up, or why I shouldn’t give someone a phone call when they were sad. I didn’t see a reason to do what I did except that I cared to make other people happy. Sometimes it becomes a problem, like when I became sick for several days recently. I obviously wanted to get better because I knew I’d have a bunch of makeup work to do, but I wanted to be there to help a group make decisions and do my part.
In late April a friend and I went to a concert, and while we were waiting she told me that our friend was gay. It came as a shock to me and at first I secretly hated him for it, but I’ve gradually accepted the fact that he is what he is and I shouldn’t treat him any differently. He was still my best friend and I thought that I shouldn’t dislike anyone because of something they can’t control. I began to think how much people are mistreated because of who they are, and why people treat others like dirt. Why is calling someone “gay” such an insult? You hear it in the halls, yet you don’t do anything about it either because you don’t really care that much or you’re afraid of what people might say.
Maybe you got a bad grade on a test and you said “This is so gay” to your friend. Maybe you called your friend a rude name because he dropped a Gatorade in the lunch line and your friends laugh and loudly exchange “insults” for a while. Maybe you’re the one who I turned and shouted at because you think it’s hilarious to make yourself look like a disrespectful jerk around classmates and teachers. So maybe you’ll think twice about doing something that could help someone. Why not go out of your way once in a while? Say “happy birthday” to a classmate you never talk to. Offer to put the groceries away for your mom. Treat others the way you want to be treated. You might be surprised at what can happen. I certainly was.
