The other night, some friends and I were walking back to our dorm after a couple hours spent "down the hill", our campus' hub for upperclassmen housing and party life. It was quite the evening, hopping from place to place, meeting tons of new people and dancing in sweaty, tightly packed apartments that must have bordered on 95° F. Most everyone walking back with me was pretty buzzed, if not full on drunk from the booze provided by the senior frat guys. It was a night to remember, that is if it would be remembered at all. After all, this is what college is supposed to be all about, right?

But then one of my friends turned to me, myself being the lone sober guy in the pack, and asked a question I'd heard many times before.

"Graham, just wondering, why don't you drink?

I paused to collect my thoughts.

Much to my friend's chagrin, he had been my beer pong partner for the night, which meant he was drinking for the both of us. For three games in-a-row, he got a first-hand look at my sobriety, which ironically helped us win a couple matches. Now, I could tell the drinks were kicking in and I, obviously, was not feeling any of the same effects.

I started off by saying that I didn't really feel the need to and there were a lot of negative consequences associated with underage drinking, like getting in trouble with the law. I mentioned religious reasons along with the fact that I thought it might affect my schoolwork and activities if it ever got out of hand. It was the basic spiel that I gave everyone back in high school, but now that I was in college, I began to realize that this question didn't have as simple of an answer as I thought. In fact, the pros at this point probably outweigh the cons.

The alcohol policy at my school is fairly relaxed and simple: if you're not an idiot, you won't get in trouble. Up to three cops stand outside the parties each night to keep watch over the drunken crowds to ensure nothing gets out of hand. They're not there to get students into trouble, but rather to make certain that everyone remains safe and that alcohol does not leave the apartment complex, thus venturing back into the freshman dorms. Because of this policy, underage alcohol consumption is all but accepted as a given by campus officials.

Strike one. This seems to all but discredit "not wanting to get in trouble with the law" as one of the reasons that I choose not to drink. Barring a drunken debauchery, there's very little reason to believe that I would face repercussions from any higher authority figure, be it from the college or the police. While this policy may only apply specifically to my college campus, the reality remains that a very similar choice exists at most schools: if you're smart, you won't get caught.

But then there are the religious reasons. I'm beginning to believe that there is a stark difference between not drinking underage because it violates the principle's of one's faith and using faith as a veiled excuse for not drinking. I truly admire those who take a stand for what they believe in, I think highly of a person who chooses to prioritize their beliefs and live them out. However, ducking behind God as a reason to hide a deeper fear of other consequences isn't healthy. Honesty about one's decisions and the reasons for them is key in deciding what to do about alcohol. Using God as a fabricated reason for sobriety undermines those who genuinely believe it, which is negative for all parties involved.

In all honesty, I do question whether or not I use religion as a shield from something that I deep down am afraid of. I want to think that I've set my priorities on the basis of my faith, but at times it feels like a cop-out answer. I've seen people drinking Saturday night that I go to church with on Sunday morning, and I wonder, can the two can be mutually inclusive? And if underage drinking is truly against the tenants of my faith, am I wrong for partaking in the drinking games, even if I'm the one not drinking? That's strike two.

So maybe it will effect my schoolwork and activities. If I contain drinking to Friday and Saturday nights, I should be fine for when my 9:30 class on Monday morning rolls around. Give it some time and I could build up a respectable tolerance to avoid getting black-out wasted to the point that it really hurts me. The majority of the student body is able to balance academics and alcohol, and many of them add athletics and activities on top of it all. I'd simply be regressing to the normative schedule of any other college student, and I really wouldn't be missing much at all. Even if I still wanted to go to church on Sunday, there's a second service at 11:00am that wouldn't be too difficult to make. Even my intramural flickerball (Davidson's own sport) team has upcoming Saturday practices pushed to the afternoon to avoid playing with hangovers. From strictly a time-management perspective, there's a fairly low possibility that alcohol would interfere. Strike three.

But the final reason, and possibly the most powerful reason, is that there is no need to drink. Now I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the unspoken pressure from those around me. I've received many a long glance from an upperclassman for not holding a beer in my hand and have even been told multiple times that I should go grab one out of the fridge. I usually stand to the side, socializing with a red Solo cup full of water in order to deflect any potential questions that may come my way. I guess this signifies the fact that I feel the need to hide something, that I feel the external, and possibly internal, pressure to fit in with everybody else. This not to mention that drinks are not just drinks, they're a symbol that I, a mere freshman who sits at the bottom rung of the social Totem pole, am one of them. By refusing a drink, (which I have many a time) I am refusing a gift, a treasure bestowed on me by the seniors, and bestowed on the seniors by the seniors before them. At times I feel as if they think that I have some sort of superiority complex, that I must believe myself better than them for turning down their offering. Each time I say no, I subconsciously hear it as a no to more parties, a no to joining a fraternity, a no to truly being accepted for how I choose to behave, and that much is enough to make me second guess my words.

So why not drink? The pros appear much greater than the cons, the benefits of indulging seem to outweigh the potential ramifications. Am I weak or am I strong? Am I confident in my choice or am I too scared to change my mind?

In one of my desks drawers back home, I have an essay that I wrote and presented to my 5th grade D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) class. As an 11-year-old, I pledged in front of my principal and my parents to not drink alcohol until I turned 21, a promise, that despite my naiveness when making, I have kept to this point. In examining the paper, I see an innocence in myself, an uncorrupted and uninfluenced kid who wanted to do his best to make his family, friends and those who looked up to him proud. I see the best that I can be, the purest version of myself. And so, considering it all, this is what I choose to value the most.

I am no perfect person, there are likely to be mishaps and slip-ups along the way. But today I don't accept the fact that I am a sober college student; I embrace it. The best I see in myself, through an 11-year-old's eyes, will continue to be until I make that kid proud.