Throughout school, I had always felt out of place. I could never put words on that feeling though. I attended a religious middle school, and at the time I was discovering myself as an Atheist. I began to embrace that exciting identity, but the greater importance lied in its derivation from a deeper part of my nature.

Asking questions. Questions seemed like the the most fundamental aspect of learning, however the silence amongst my classmates tried to indicate otherwise. In retrospect, I never intended to ask a disproportionate amount of questions, but I refused to understand things for their face value, and assumed that my current state of knowledge never enough.

A skeptic. The affirmation of that identity began in high school, greatly in part due to its religiosity and my lack thereof. The school had a clear message with clear values, but none of the students really seemed on board. I noticed an immense disparity amongst how the attitudes of the institution differed from the students. No one was talking about it, so for me, it felt important. Quickly I became that guy who would pursue intrusively meaningful conversations from the get-go. My friends seemed to enjoy it, and thus that behavior was reinforced.

I loved religion classes. Not because of the content, but because I thought the classroom dynamic was hilarious. A standard emerged throughout the vast majority my peers’ behaviors: everyone seemed to not be themselves. One could characterize their lunch-time personas as opinionated, charismatic, and genuine, however, once the bell rang, that part of them seemed to disintegrate. This observation induced a great call to action.

I took these classes as an opportunity to express my truest self, by asking the questions that everybody didn’t want to express, and by challenging what was being taught. I felt that by demonstrating courage I may goad others to speak their mind. With the help of a great teacher, it did.

My religion and ethics teacher, Mr. McDoughall, detected my passion towards pursuing truth, and that mutual appreciation let us bond. I would regularly spend time after class with him dissecting the class discussions. I cared to represent the perspective of my peers, and gave authentic reactions to the content and express concerns for those students who may keep their voice concealed. There were clearly things that many student’s weren’t telling him.

My relationship with Mr. McDoughall helped give me the confidence to pursue what I cared most deeply about. His respectfulness, humility, empathy, and open-mindedness helped inspire me to live a more virtuous life. Meeting him was a crucial part in solidifying my identity as a nonconformist, which I am grateful that I can take immense pride in.