My Experience As a Moderate

(Written some time ago -- )

Being seventeen and technically already in college – that is, in a few senses – the relationship with my parents has changed quite drastically. Due to profound laziness and/or lack of willpower, I remain unemployed and thus reliant on their volumptuous bank accounts, but such is one of the few ties that bind. The parent-child relationship remains, of course, but independence has begun to reign free and the umbilical cord of youth has worn profoundly thin. Alas, with such developments, I too have inevitably begun to see my parents as separate entities.

The most profound and personal observation was perhaps centered on the realization that our political ideologies were no longer united. Though I realize the concept sounds odd, but the key point to this whole blurb is: politics are, have been, and forever shall be the foundation of interpersonal relations in the home. Needless to say, having two parents who are both proud owners of PhDs in Political Science can get to your head. For a majority of my life, I tried to get away from the subject, only to find myself wrapped up in its chillingly heartless grasp a few years later. After all, one cannot truly escape the “invisible hand of the market” (Adam Smith).

In the years of my youth, I found it necessary – at least for some time – to follow "the Way" (that is, their understanding of such), inasmuch as I used them as the predominant source for political information -- be it modern or otherwise. I took my knowledge from dinner-time conversations, transferring it into my own words and thereby preached to the public that was my few friends (if politics ever came up). Hence, I was a follower, trying to walk in the footsteps of my parents for they, as my guardians and utmost idols, were the people to travel with.

With my own growing spiritual/existential confusion and devout "agape" for Platonic philosophy – primarily idealism and the concept the well-known (and beloved, mind you) “philosopher king” – I found myself further from them than ever before. Not necessarily in a bad way; rather, they held their own opinions and I held mine to put it simply. My mother especially began developing an air of independence brought forth primarily by religious and ethical matters.

To wit: “I could see you as a Unitarian Universalist in a few years.”

Presumably -- and rightfully so, for such a statement cannot remain unnoticed -- a lecture about theology came immediately afterwards, followed by the increasingly awkward question of: would you actually convert to Orthodoxy? (I was dating a wanna-be twenty year old priest at the time; I think the concept either baffled or bothered her – it’s hard to tell either way). My parents raised me as secular, though thanks to my father’s Jewish background and general interest in religion, some practices – i.e. the half-hearted celebration of Chanukah that periodically was "accidentally" extended to a period of nine days to YHWH's distaste – remained.

Besides my mother’s various comments throughout the past five or six months, the most prevalent of examples occurred ironically on Christmas Day. During supper, the subject of American political parties came up, and I – a strong dissenter of the two-party system – “came out” as being a moderate. My grandmother awkwardly brought forth the question as to why, which, of course, lead to a discussion of the moral and political benefits of gun ownership. What must be understood is that the Democratic Party played a huge role in my family life; deviating from such was mildly appalling (if not more so)– whether this fact came to light or not, it remained true. Strange as it may seem, coming out as bisexual (I attributed such to confusion over orientation after I decided that girls scared the living daylights out of me) was far easier than declaring my political stance. Gun ownership was the prime topic here: I believed that it was a necessary evil to protect the American evil in the off-chance that a violent rebellion would be needed, using Lenin, Jefferson, and the WTO rebellion in Washington years past as my prime support, while my parents and grandparents just looked at me like I was speaking fluently in Greek (and alas, I find myself still unable to do so despite my religious affiliations).

The main thought that passed through my head: “Damn, I could use a cigarette right now.”

Following a heated debate of me verses the populous, it became quite clear: I stood apart from these people in many ways. My parents were individuals with their own opinions: opinions which I disagreed with in many instances. What scared me slightly was the effect such ideas could have; after all, no one was allowed to bring up politics around my father’s mother – the grandparents who sat in on Christmas dinner were of my mother’s family – due to her strong right-wing opinions and support of the current president Bush. I wish not to be such a case, for the discussion of political matters plays a key role in my family life as was stated above. Although I remain vastly separate from my father’s mother (she believed FDR was a bad president -- Lucifer's child, if I may; I strongly disagree being a big lover of social programs and “Big'-***' Government”), the thought still stood despite the potential irrationality of such.

Note to self: don’t come out of the closet during Christmas dinner.
theosis3142 theosis3142
18-21, F
1 Response Jul 28, 2007

Very funny story.