How to Not Be an Awful Person
By Ryan Bender
If my 2018 self could meet my current self, he would be livid. This is how a conversation with him would go:
“Why are your nails painted?” the little me would question.
“I like the way it looks,” I would respond confidently.
“You know that’s, like, a girl thing, right?” he would say, befuddled.
“Yeah, I know. But things change—and so have you,” I would say.
Young me had always believed that men should be “manly” and tough. Painting your nails was feminine and showing emotion was weak. It was a tortuous way of life.
“Does that mean you’re gay?” he would inquire, still sounding confused but now a little cautious, too.
“Pansexual, actually!” I would declare.
I would then see the knowing expression come over his face.
“Listen, I’m okay with gay people as long as they aren’t all in your face about it,” he would say smugly, aware of his true intent.
A classic line among homophobes. But I don’t think I realized I was being homophobic when I’d say such things. It’s only now, when I look back on my old self, that I’m disgusted with how I acted and treated people who were just living their lives.
My first introduction to real politics was in sixth grade when we watched the 2016 election in class. Trump vs. Hillary, Elephant vs. Donkey, old rich billionaire vs. old rich billionaire. Who to choose, who to choose? There was one major factor that could help me choose and that was soccer practice.
Every other day was soccer practice, and that meant a 15-minute car ride with Dad, and 15 minutes of the disembodied voice of conservative talk show host Dan Bongino.
“Trump is going to drain the swamp!”
Was he going to do that? What even is the swamp? Well, I’m glad he’s doing that, or else this country will go to shit!
“Hillary is going to go to jail! She is a thief and a crook!”
Was she going to go there? What did she even do? Well, I’m glad she’s going there, or else this country will go to shit!
Rinse and repeat this process 3-4 times a week, and you (yes, you!) can have your very own conservative 13-year-old. I was caught in this crossfire since my dad was listening to it. I started having questions about things that were said in the podcasts. The only person who was present to answer my questions was my far-right conservative father, and the answers he gave me were based on information he believed to be true. That’s how it all started.
What didn’t help was having the internet in my face 24/7. YouTube and Instagram are a devilish duo in the technology world. No matter how advanced they say their algorithms are and no matter how seriously they claim to take hate and discrimination, those platforms provide plenty of material that can help you figure out how to be an awful person.
YouTube is for your longer-form content when you’re in the mood to hate. Ever wanted to watch Ben Shapiro destroy (talk so fast that the opposition has no time to respond or gather their thoughts) a blue-haired SJW (a college student with the capacity for human decency)? Oh my, is that the screech of a newborn bald eagle I hear? Well, get yourself ready, because Steven Crowder is heading to college . . . but not to get an education or anything. No way in hell! Mr. Crowder believes that college education is stupid and pointless. Instead, he’s here to have an intense debate where your goal is to change his mind on a topic. Two minor issues: A) He will never change his mind, and B) Can you guess what demographic he’s debating against? Drumroll, please . . . uninformed college students! That’s the common approach throughout right-wing conservative debate content. You rarely see them debating anyone with less than a high school diploma. It’s always college students who have very strong opinions and feelings towards the topic at hand, but aren’t yet educated enough to have a long and drawn-out debate about it.
“Oh, you can’t explain your reasons for why gay people deserve to get married? Well then, your opinion is wrong, and I am correct, of course,” Crowder proclaims.
To most reasonable adults, this is ridiculous. Grown adults arguing with college students. Wow. What a title to hold. But as a young and impressionable kid, I saw Bongino, Shapiro, and Crowder as heroes. They showed the “truth” of the world and stopped the people who were “evil” and “aggressive.”
For our next suspect, we have Instagram. This is where you would get your short-form hits of hatred.
One Swipe: A funny image.
Two Swipes: They are trying to take your guns away. Do not let them.
Three Swipes: [Insert minority] are evil and wrong in the eyes of God. Don’t trust them.
Four Swipes: A funny image.
This cycle creates the perfect little hate-fueled machines who then take what they learn in these videos and images and spew them in the comments of other posts. Or they make their own posts, and do it with the same amount of anger, which then feeds more uninformed and developing minds.
It was a never-ending cycle, and I was caught in it.
The place where these politically charged views were most prominent was the cafeteria. I had a small friend group, and one of the kids in the group was named D. This kid was the epitome of awfulness in the eyes of my young conservative self. Spouted liberal nonsense, painted nails, punk haircut. He checked off every box on the list o’ liberal. Every day, it was one level below a screaming match with him. But the truth is that neither of us knew that much about what we were talking about. We were only 14. Neither of us was educated enough on the topics at hand to be able to truly defend our points. And neither of us was actually interested in listening to the other. All we were doing was spewing what we had heard and the beliefs we had crafted for ourselves based on what we had heard. We were both being awful to each other. But I was louder.
For example, I would compare trans people to dogs, saying, “If I eat out of a dog bowl and bark, does that make me a dog?”
D. would try his best to respond, but he couldn’t compete against me because I was using Ben Shapiro’s debate tactics.
Looking back on it now, I realize that D. was 100% in the right the entire time. I knew what he was trying to say even when I wouldn’t let him get the words out. D. understood that people should be allowed to be who they are. He understood how to not be an awful person.
I repent for what I did all those years ago. I feel bad for what D. endured in those insignificant arguments. Neither of us ever planned to change our views. Very rarely will you ever change a person yourself. It is a long and strenuous journey that the individual must make through self-realization and accountability. I know it took me a while, and I think what I really needed was time by myself to reflect.
It was when COVID-19 led to the lockdown year that I got my alone time for self-reflection. I was in 9th grade. Being locked inside was like a period of meditation and peace. I had time to myself to think. I realized I was at a low point; I wasn’t happy with my lifestyle. I started to think about my beliefs and why I had them, and I gradually realized that I disagreed with them. I realized that I didn’t even know why I hated the gay people and trans people; they had never done anything to me. They were living their lives. I started realizing that no one has the right to tell someone else who they are, let alone who they should be. It started to baffle me that some people think they do have such a right.
The biggest help in getting me to this point of self-awareness was, ironically, the main reason why I had become awful in the first place: social media. I think that the app TikTok helped me open my eyes a bit more to the issues and problems going on for different minority groups.
Now, as much as it is used as a boogey man word, I am proud to be woke. If treating people with respect and being a decent person means being woke, then goddamn, I must have been up for 12 days straight.
The final tip over the edge was when the lockdown was starting to end. I started playing Magic: the Gathering.
Magic: the Gathering attracts a very large LGBTQ+ population with its fantasy and creativity. Every Friday, I would go to my local game store just so I could play Magic with my friends. I started to realize that it didn’t matter what their sexual preference was or what their gender identity was; at the end of the day, they were genuinely good people who only deserved respect.
My favorite group to hang out consisted of J., a gay man, and his boyfriend E., a trans man. There were a few other trans and nonbinary people in the group also. These new friends helped me learn love and compassion for those with differences. I learned a lot about the LGBTQ+ community from these people, and a lot about myself.
By the time 12th grade rolled around, my way of thinking had changed entirely.
One Friday night before Magic started, E. and I got to talking.
“Bender, you’re not gay?” he questioned.
“No, I’m not. No clue why people think that,” I said, confused. But not angry or defensive. And not scared.
Then came my first semester of college. During my first semester at SUNY Canton, I’d had time to grow and discover myself even more. I had become more independent and had gotten a chance to experience different aspects of life. I made more friends than I’d ever had before. One of them is my best friend, L. She’s a trans woman in the same major I’m in.
When I think about how the old me would have treated L., I remember the things I used to shout during those cafeteria “conversations” with E.
“If I eat out of a dog bowl and bark, does that make me a dog?”
Looking back on it now, I realize that if I had known L. back when I was younger, I wouldn’t have needed to hear what D. was trying to say all those times in the cafeteria when I would shout over him. Because I could never hate L. Knowing her has been a blessing. She is who she is. And, in knowing her, I’ve learned that it’s okay for me to be who I am, too.
It was Friday night Magic during a recent visit back home. I looked at E.
“You were right. I think I’m pansexual,” I proclaimed triumphantly.
He grinned. “Ha! I knew you had some fruit in ya!”
It took a long time to get here, but I understand now that I had always just kind of been in denial of it until that point. I had always been afraid of criticism, or worse, from others.
People are scared and unsure of what they are looking at, so they hate it. People can change, though; that’s the beauty of being human: we learn and grow. We can understand that people are different and that you don’t have to be like everyone else to fit in. We can listen to each other. We don’t have to be awful people.
Ryan Bender was raised with blind hatred for a group of people he didn’t even know, but with time, he became open-minded. He was able to learn how to not be an awful person. Bender’s dad also changed his ways by growing and learning how the beliefs he used to have could affect people negatively. Bender and his dad have both learned that people are taught to hate, so you must let them learn to love. Bender is a sophomore in SUNY Canton’s Game Design and Development major.