December 2, 2007

Recently I did something I rarely do: I attended a party. By "party" I mean the kind of large gathering where the place was so crowded that you could were constantly getting elbowed and the music was so loud that conversation proved a near futile endeavour. I gather that these sorts of gatherings appeal to large percentage of the population.

Personally, I don't care for them. I decided to go anyway because I do try to participate in things that other people like sometimes, just to be friendly and enjoy their company. (Even though I'm not sure how shouting "WHAT?" at people all night counts as enjoying their company.) Moreover, it was a Halloween party, and costumes are fun.

One of my friends whose opinion about parties is similar to mine was also considering going, but she decided against it. She is my senior on the JET Program, so she knows the JET social scene better than I do. We chatted on the phone while she tried to make up her mind, and it came up that the JETs who do like partying have a special rude nickname for the sizeable minority of JETs who don't often go out with the group of them (which I will not repeat here).

My friend decided not to go to the party because she had something more fun she could do with another non-partying friend, but merely remembering this rude name and the way these people look at more reserved people—no, that's not right, many of us aren't even all that reserved; we just don't care for big loud parties!—helped tip her decision.

I went to the party and enjoyed seeing friends and costumes, but when it came time for me to catch the last train that would get me home, I was more than ready to go home. Three hours of that was plenty. As I left the crowded, smoky club, my ears ringing, I couldn't help but wonder: why does it upset some people so much that not everyone likes the same kind of gatherings they do? Do they feel somehow threatened? If so, why?

I know there are plenty of friendly, sociable, warm people who feel the same way I do because I spent a good portion of my time at this party discussing with person after person how "this sort of party really isn't my thing, either," and because several other really great people I know decided not to go. Why is it hard for some people to accept that others just don't enjoy that sort of thing? Moreover, we (if you will let me presume to speak for us as a group) generally don't have the slightest problem with the fact that the rest of you do enjoy it. Have your fun! That's great! If you like it, by all means, do it! I'm not trying to stop you.

But why would anyone need to call people who don't like that stuff by rude names? I, naïve child that I apparently am, was shocked to hear about this accepted terminology for JETs who don't go to all the loud rowdy parties. Now, this does make me think less of those people. It doesn't hurt me, but it makes me even less interested in going along with these people's ideas of fun just for the sake of getting to know them if that's how they'll look at me. Why does it bother them so? Is it because they love us and are hurt that we don't want to party/dance/vomit at three in the morning with them? Is it because they think we're judging them and therefore they judge back?

I honestly just don't enjoy those things. This doesn't make me "antisocial." I enjoy social activities—just not the same kind. I love exploring and sightseeing with friends. I love going out to eat with friends. I really love going to amusement parks with friends. I love running mundane errands with friends. I love going to the Shiga JET Book Club and finding new friends among the "nerds" who show up (who include some "partiers.") I would be beyond thrilled to work on creative projects with friends, though that virtually never happens. I don't particularly love watching movies or shopping, but I'll even do those with my friends sometimes because I enjoy their company. I love just talking to my friends and getting to know them on more than a superficial level.

And yes, I also enjoy thinking about things on my own and then writing what I think in essays like this. Wow, I know, what a freak! Except that I don't happen to buy into that definition of "freak."

But I don't think it's much fun to go to a gathering of so many people that you couldn't possibly interact with them all. The fact that there were 200 people there makes it less fun for me, not more; I prefer a smaller group of close friends to a huge group of acquaintances. I don't like staying up all night, feeling gross and and tired, smelling like smoke and alcohol and giving up the entire next day to exhaustion. I could go on about all the reasons one could easily dislike parties without being suffering from severe mental delusions, but I understand that people have different tastes. You can turn down invitations to the things I like without stigma, so I'd like the same option in return. "Partying" isn't inherently fun just because a slight majority of the population enjoys it.

If you're a party person, you might think I'm boring—but if you truly don't enjoy anything but drinking and dancing, I might just think the same thing about you.

I do, however, think people are a lot more complicated than this dichotomy, so I'd still like to try to get to know you. I just hope I have a chance to talk to you somewhere I can actually hear you.

I know that an essay posted on a personal web page is unlikely to do more than preach to the choir on this subject, but if any partiers do happen to come across this, I would love to know what you think about this.

Or maybe it's just that you didn't stop to think, in which case, I hope next time you will before you sweep a large group of people under a rude blanket label just because they happen to be a little different from you.