Rules

In college I was part of OCULeads - a freshman leadership program at Oklahoma City University.  I guess the point of the program was to attract, encourage, and promote young leaders on campus.   About 30 freshman met once a week and heard from a guest speaker or participated in an activity.  Pretty normal stuff, most of it not worthy of mention in a blog post, except the game we played one fateful and 'revelation inducing' Tuesday morning.



Here's how the activity works: There's an imaginary line in the middle of the room.  We all stand in a straight line, single file on this imaginary line.  The leader makes a statement and if we agree we move to the right and if we disagree we move to the left.  The further you move the extremes, the more you agree or disagree.  It's a great way to start conversations about divisive issues because it forces you to physically embody your position.  Then it allows you to take a moment and see the diversity of opinions.  But don't expect everyone to sing Kum-bi-yah, the arguments will be strong on both sides. 

Since it was a college audience the questions centered around collegiate behaviors which are acceptable to some and illicit to others.  Alcohol consumption wasn't the only topic we covered.  However, my memory has so deeply burned the situation that it might as well have been the only thing I did that entire semester.  It's probably the single most powerful memory I have of the OCULeads experience.  



I think the statement was something like, "It's alright to drink when you're underage if it's to celebrate the end of finals, the end of a big play, or some other major accomplishment.  The drinking in question would occur in the safety of a trusted friend's apartment." 

There were some students who appreciated the moral complexity of the situation.  While drinking is illegal until you're 21, it's safe to do in a controlled setting with people you trust.  What's the harm?  Students were speckled throughout the continuum of approval. 

My position was not subtle.  Unless I've blocked out some aspect of this memory, I strongly disagreed to this statement by moving as far as possible away from the center of ambiguity.  I was the most staunch opponent of underage drinking. 

Several people spoke up to support their views.  I glowered in the corner.  Finally, I was called on in recognition of my extreme stance.

Here's what I didn't say:

"Alcoholism is a disease."
"Alcoholism is a disease affects more than the alcoholic."
"Alcoholism is a disease that affects every aspect of your relationship with an alcoholic, whether you'd like it to or not."
"Alcoholism is a disease I suffer from, despite not being an alcoholic." 
"I am so scared of what happens to people when they drink."

Instead, my skin burned and my tongue tied an in a moment of clarity that I wouldn't fully appreciate until just recently I said:

"I like rules.  There are certain rules about when you can and can't drink."

And I felt like an idiot.

But it was one of the most insightful observations about own cognitive process I could have made.  "I like rules."  They help me to make sense of my existence and they tell me how to interact with others.  I imagine that's how my brain has and always will be wired.  But this personality quirk is also related to being an "Adult Child of an Alcoholic."



It would be a few years until I discovered the body of literature for people like me and, lo and behold, there are certain personality characteristics or rules that we tend to follow.  Some good, some bad.  The insights gleamed from this literature were, ironically, part of what allowed me to relax my strict rules regarding alcohol.   And it also helped me to develop new rules about my own behaviors.

I still like rules.  And I'm no longer embarassed.  Even if everyone knows.