Get it Straight

I am Straight Edge, and I am not better than you.

In the last ten years, Straight Edge has been steadily increasing its mainstream visibility, and as it has done so, it has become increasingly apparent that it’s headed for an identity crisis.So, what is Straight Edge, exactly? A gang? A youth group? An effective measuring device?

A person who claims Straight Edge agrees to abstain from drugs and alcohol as well as promiscuous sex. That’s basically the consensus as I see it.

There are some people who are vegetarian or vegan and also Straight Edge. They’re sometimes called hardliners.

There is no Straight Edge Society of America to make rules about what is or isn’t Straight Edge. There are just the basic tenets: stay clean and live a healthy life. That’s basically all Minor Threat singer Ian MacKaye could fit in his 30-second Straight Edge manifesto, aptly titled “Straight Edge.”

It’s punk rock, not Shakespeare.

Minor Threat is widely acknowledged as the band that invented Straight Edge, mostly by coining the phrase. Since then, Straight Edge has been a fixture in the American hardcore scene.

Bands like Judge, Earth Crisis, Gorilla Biscuits, Slapshot, Casey Jones, Have Heart and Throwdown have all propelled Straight Edge to the forefront of American punk rock.

Warped Tour bands like Fall Out Boy and AFI put the culture in the living rooms of Middle America.

So, is it edgy? Or is it just traditional American values armed with loud guitars? The FBI has investigated Straight Edge gangs in Reno, Nev., and Boston, but Straight Edge has been a topic of positive media coverage as well — on Fox News Channel, of all places.

In some ways, Straight Edge lends itself to extremism, but so does anything worth believing in, right?

Whenever people realize I don’t drink, the question always comes up: So what made you decide not to drink? For those of us who abstain, this can be a dreaded conversation.

You’re worried about coming off as judgmental, self-righteous or, most awful, lame.

I’ve gotten pretty good at answering that question. I should be — I’ve been doing it for five or six years. And the fact that I attend one of the biggest party schools in the nation means I get asked that question pretty frequently.

I’ve found the easiest and truest answer is this: I don’t drink because of a promise I made myself. When I was 14, a lot of my peers and I decided to be Edge. Most of them quit being Edge. It was the cool thing to do — and then it wasn’t. When they quit getting stupid haircuts, they quit being Edge. It was a fashion statement — empty and superficial.

Those of us who claim Edge sincerely have to constantly battle the stereotypes. These include notions of the brute who beats up some kid at a show, the guy who draws X’s on his hands but smokes cigarettes and the horde of so-called “fashioncore” teenagers who ditch Edge the minute they get invited to drink in their friends’ basements.

The more exposed we are, the higher the percentage of kids who treat Edge like a temporary commitment.

I’ve never been that way. I suppose the real test is being offered drugs or alcohol and refusing. Every time I’m in a situation in which I might be tempted, I have the same thought: I could never deny who I am.

You can grow up and believe everything is ironic, that everything is a sham, and you can ditch Straight Edge as you outgrow it. Or you can hold on to the idealism you had when you were a kid.

It has served me well, and that’s what Edge has always been to me.

It was a promise I made myself years ago — that I’d always believe in something and never let go of it. In life, there are only few things you can really hold onto forever: your family, your love and your integrity.

I could have chosen to be celibate or to pray 50 times a day, but years ago I decided I would never drink, do drugs or have empty, meaningless sex — a pretty simple set of rules.

I’ve got three X’s on my shoulder that will never disappear, and I’ve got a promise in my heart that I’ll never break.


E-mail: thommill@indiana.edu