The poser liberal

Back in 8th grade, my friends and I would chat about our plan to join the Peace Corps and save the world. Every text book I used was covered in plain brown paper but decorated with colorful peace signs and anti-George Bush symbols. I was listening to U2, supporting the end of apartheid, learning about Saddam Hussein and crying over the Exxon Valdez oil spill. In an effort to resurrect the Hippie movement, at least via fashion, I spent afternoons rummaging through racks of clothes at the Pasadena Salvation Army and on special occasions traveled to Aaardvark's on Melrose for that perfect pair of bell-bottoms. I could not be more proud of the fact that my parents were at Woodstock.

In high school, I was all about free speech and women's rights. My rudimentary understanding of the women's lib movement was breeding an underlying distrust of men and a slightly angry exterior that was quick to snap when provoked. I dabbled in vegetarianism (while working at In-n-Out Burger) and read Simone de Beauvoir.

During my freshman year of college at UC Santa Cruz, I was introduced to drum circles, solidarity marches, the secret meaning to the numbers 4/20, the power of the pamphlet and the science of dread locks. It was here that I began to feel as if I had been herded down this path of perceived social consciousness. One night, while walking through campus on my way home from class, I heard a faint clamour of marching students. Nothing odd, really. The uber-liberal student body was always gathering to protest one issue or another.

As the earth crunched under my feet, the ruckus was getting louder, and less friendly. I could see the College Eight dorm on the horizon and my pace quickened. Finally, I reached the front doors, flung them open and booked it up to my room. Glancing out the window, I see the source of the commotion: a group of topless women screaming about their right to conquer the world if they so choose, waving signs, bras and flashlights.

At the end of the semester, I put away the bell bottoms, removed the nose-ring (although I'm sort of wanting it back now) and transferred to Arizona State, where I developed an understanding of the power of the individual to create his/her circumstances and rise above them if needed. I realized the inability of government to solve pretty much any social dilemma and the danger in expecting them to do so. I decided that morality could not be dictated by elected officials, but rather taught by loving parents and a like-minded support system. I delved deeper into the intent of our wise Founding Fathers and was in awe at the mess we've created for ourselves. I rediscovered the beauty and perfection of the Constitution and the importance of protecting it.

And so goes my arch from poser liberal to Conservative. Of course, this is a simplified version, but ultimately, I decided that the power of the people lies in the unique talents and skills that we each bring to the table. Throwing government bureaucracy into the mix only brings social chaos, a sense of helplessness and a lack of self-confidence. The beauty of all this is that we are each free to subscribe to whichever school of thought we choose. But shouldn't we be equally prepared to reap the fruit of that belief system? More government? More legislation? Less Freedom? Fewer opportunities? That is not the country I want for my children.