At my high school in rural Ohio I was part of a small group of students who were thought of as rebellious and unpatriotic, and given names like “hippy” and “tree-hugger.” I was a Democrat.

I don’t mean to say that I especially minded these labels. In fact, I embraced them. I didn’t wish I could fit in with my school’s very conservative political scene, and I never felt embarrassed about my views. I didn’t flush with shame when my classmate loudly teased my choice of candidate in our mock presidential election in 2004, and I proudly showed off my Kerry-Edwards button I bought at a rally that same year. Causing a stir was fine with me; I even enjoyed being the odd one out.

This was because deep down I thought I was better informed than the Republicans at my school. Whenever they gave their opinions, I secretly laughed at them just as they were laughing at me out loud. I thought that they had no idea what they were talking about, that they had just gotten their ideas from their parents and pastors, rather than thinking for themselves.

I, of course, was exactly the same way. I just didn’t know it yet.

Last fall, I came to college, looking forward to finally being part of a community where, for the most part, I would be in the majority with my political views. Gone were the days of tirelessly defending my views about the war, the death penalty and the country’s economic situation whenever an election rolled around. I was excited to finally be able to talk about my political views with people who actually agreed with me.

For the first few months of college, I enjoyed this new freedom. It was so much easier to talk about politics when all of my friends held the same pro-peace and justice views as I did, and to be able to finally vent my frustrations about the opposing viewpoint. But as the first semester went by, I started to wonder: Was I really thinking for myself?

I began to realize that I had become the people at my high school. As a member of the majority I looked down on people with opposing views, and I adopted my family and friends’ ideas, rather than exploring my own. We may have been members of different parties, but my high school classmates and I were exactly alike. All it took was a bit of time in the mainstream for me to realize it.

Now, I try to form my own opinions about politics. While I still enjoy talking with and learning from my friends with similar views, I consciously try to stay away from “us and them” politics, where the other party is painted as the enemy. Through doing this, I’ve realized that while I’d still generally call myself a Democrat, on a few issues I do agree with Republicans. The way I see it, we’re all trying to accomplish the same thing: to provide a safe, stable and efficient government. Even though we have different ideas about how to do that, we need to remember that a person is not first and foremost a Democrat or Republican. We’re all just people.