I really didn't notice that I was different from the other kids until high school. It's a shocking thing to find out at that age. There's a lot of peer pressure at that time in one's life; you'd think someone wouldn't have pointed it out to you.

I always assumed I was like my family. There were never any huge signs that pointed me in the direction to see that I was different. So there I was in history class, I still remember it clearly. Mrs. Graham, the best history teacher I remember having, passed out the test. It was not your standard test, but a test that analyzed who you were. It was the self-graded sort of test where you get so many points depending on how much you agree or disagree with about thirty or forty statements. A couple questions caused me to pause and think but all-in-all I believe I was one of the first finished.

"If you scored between 30 and 50 raise your hand," directed Mrs. Graham. Those in that range complied, then lowered their hands at her prompting. Mrs. Graham continued asking everyone to raise their hands for certain scores and the first few groups covered everyone in the class, except me. Then she went through several score ranges where no one raised their hand, until finally she asked if anyone scored higher. Not realizing what quality was evaluated by this test or how different I was, I raised my hand, solo and unashamed. Heck all my friends were in this class. They knew me; I had nothing to hide.

"This test," explained Mrs. Graham, "shows where you land on the political spectrum. The lower the score, the more to the left you fall in your political values. The higher the score the more to the right. Josh, you're about here." Everyone followed her finger as it slowly slid to the right side of the political spectrum poster above my desk, stopping just before edge of the board. Then they all looked at me in shock. I might as well of had leprosy. They wondered, as did I, how could this kid - black combat boots, black army surplus pants, black wax trax records t-shirt, even hair dyed black - this kid - be conservative?

It troubled me all the way home on the bus. Some things started to make sense, though, like how I always identified with Michael J. Fox's character on Family Ties.

This memory was just sparked a couple nights ago. The night before the election, my mom called. We talked for a long time, I tried to explain why I could not vote for Obama (see previous post) and why George Bush was not an idiot (I regularly get practice at this one at work). She then shared with me that when I was just a kid (I was born in 1970) I'd watch the hearing against Nixon instead of cartoons. She'd go about her chores around the house then come in and I'd explain what had been going on. I don't remember this, I'll have to take her word on it, but it helps explain some things.