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Melody Mitchell
Moon - Capstone A2
9 September 2014
Essay A Draft

Essay A Draft - Dealing with Differing Views

Just six months ago, if you had come up to me and asked if I was tolerant of other
views, religions, ideas, etc., I would have nodded emphatically and replied, Of course.
Honestly, while I may have believed that, it wasnt true. I had never been exposed to a
lifestyle that differed from mine more than taking your shoes off at the doorstep or using
the proper fork and spoon combination. As far as I was concerned, my miniscule bubble
of a world was exceptionally diverse, and I was abundantly knowledgeable on most
lifestyles and beliefs thanks to a few bored hours spent grazing through Wikipedia, butlooking back- I was so incredibly naive, its more shocking to me than realizing its 2014
and it still takes thirteen hours to go from North America to Europe. Ah, and Europe
sets me onto the story of how I inadvertently stumbled my way into realizing that
personal differences are amazing, beautiful things.1
This past summer when I finished checking my luggage twice more than thrice (no,
seriously, five times) on June 06, 2014, the distinct possibility of living with and being
exposed to people with entirely different views than my own was the last thing on my
mind.

Discuss more how preferences impact me- how am I impacted by who I hang out with. media I pay
attention to/etc. Am I a very impressionable person?

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I was focused on ensuring I had my four boarding passes- two for my American
connections and two for my long-haul European connections- and saying goodbye to
my Chihuahua. I was not focusing on going over the Unofficial Rules of Religious
Etiquette and View Conservation for all the different countries I would be travelling in
over the next fourteen days. Sue me.
Believe me, though, when I got to my seat on that European plane, stuffed delicately
between two extraordinarily opinionated cosplayers, the realization of what I was
getting into hit me as if I was running head first into a brick wall. These were just two of
the thirty-or-so people Id be trying to survive a bus-trek around Europe with for the next
fortnight of my life- and I planned on coming out of that trip with my wits about me- so I
hunkered down, crossed my arms, and decided Id put my headphones in and listen to
my favorite song by Sia instead. Over the next few days, I realized I couldnt lock
everyone else out to preserve my own ideas. The people around me were exactly thatpeople. They were funny and lively and amazing to spend time with and learn from.
Slowly but surely, I came out of my shell. I spoke up in group discussions while we
were in Victorian cathedrals or modern mosques, and I was pleasantly surprised to find
my words werent beaten back. No one popped up and told me to stop talking, that I
was wrong. It was like I could breathe for the first time. Suddenly, everything was
fascinating. I drank in every second the locals would spend speaking to the motley crew
of Americans sitting at the steps of the statue- What did it represent? How did the town
feel about it?
I practically devoured every word anyone would give me as to what they believed and
why, and I absorbed every single thing. The moment I stopped seeing people asking

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about my beliefs as a threat, the world opened up to me and I drank from its wealth. In
that moment I realized no one was trying to prove me wrong and none of us was any

different. Whether or not we believed in God, a set of gods, or if we didnt believe in

anything at all, we fought for it. We each felt strongly about what we thought, but instead
of arguing over that, we chose to bond.
When I came back from this trip, it was with the knowledge that just because you
have your own story, that doesnt mean it looks the same from anothers. We all believe
in something- whether it be in Allah, the Holy Trinity, or in a bunch of gas and stars way
up high- and we should cling to and inspire that passion of belief in everyone.
To say I changed on my trip would be a gross understatement- I went from being an
unworldly seventeen year old that was hypersensitive on any topic I perceived would
raise any questions about my beliefs, to being a mature, open-minded person who
understands and appreciates other ideas and beliefs, and welcomes- even relishesconversations about what people put their faith into. I spent so long feeling the need to
be defensive and avoid conflict that I entirely forgot how to just speak with someone
about something important to me.
This summer, I went from being surrounded by people that felt the same on most
issues as I did to being almost literally thrown (turbulent flights make for an impressively
personal thirteen hours) into a group of people with very opposite religious beliefs,
thoughts, and ideas of politeness. I may not have initially enjoyed my travelling
companions, but we absolutely had to get along so we could get ourselves across
seven countries in fourteen days without killing each other, and when I finally learned to
embrace the basic passion we all shared about what we thought or believed, I made

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some of the closest, most treasured friends I have ever had.

Looking back on the sixteen-odd years I spent with my head in the metaphorical sand, I
wonder how many times I was told the world would be boring if we were all the same
before I finally understood and felt it. I no longer look at religions or ideas as offensive
topics readying me for battle, I see them as an opportunity to learn more about the
people around me and to engross myself in the beauties of the world seen differently
than by my own perspective.