Storytime: The IB Class

I completed the International Baccalaureate (IB) program in high school, an academically rigorous and globally focused curriculum designed to prepare students for success in an increasingly interconnected world. The IB had a profound impact on my development, sharpening my skills in critical thinking, research, and intellectual curiosity. Ironically, it was these very skills that enabled me to recognize the political agenda embedded within the program’s teachings. Despite this realization, I made a conscious effort to remain open-minded while navigating the overt and subtle forms of political propaganda presented to me.

The IB program heavily emphasized ideologies such as neoliberalism, globalism, and social justice. Although it marketed itself as “neutral” and “open-minded,” it often created an intellectual echo chamber that pressured students to conform. Many of my peers mistook agreement with the dominant narrative for critical thinking, often regurgitating what they were taught to fit in or earn approval, rather than questioning the ideas presented to them.

One stark example of this occurred in my philosophy class. Our teacher conducted a Google search for terms like “gay giraffes” and showed the class explicit images to argue that homosexuality is “natural” in the animal kingdom. This was not only inappropriate for a classroom setting but also a clear instance of political ideology presented under the guise of academic inquiry. Similarly, in literature class, we read books that overwhelmingly focused on feminism, critical race theory, the fight against fascism, and narratives portraying colonizers as destroyers of native cultures. Meanwhile, our American history textbooks were written in the United Kingdom.

To be clear, I do not believe these perspectives should be excluded from the curriculum. On the contrary, students should be exposed to a diverse array of viewpoints on these subjects. The problem lies in the one-sided presentation of these ideas, which often felt less like education and more like indoctrination, creating an environment where adopting these ideologies seemed less like an intellectual choice and more like a moral obligation.

Reflecting on my time in the IB program, I genuinely appreciated its ability to foster abstract thinking and expose me to new ideas and perspectives. If given the chance, I would do it all over again. At my school, there were only about 30 of us in the program, which created a unique sense of camaraderie. We had nearly every class together, which allowed us to build meaningful connections. We even started a group chat, mostly filled with typical high school banter—nothing particularly extraordinary but a fun way to stay connected.

Then came a seemingly trivial event involving this group chat—an event that would unexpectedly become one of the defining moments of my life, packed with lessons that shaped who I am today. I’ve always been interested in politics and culture, but for most of my life, I kept my opinions to myself. There was no compelling reason to share them. That all changed during the summer before my freshman year of college, when an event occurred that shook me to my core.

One of my favorite YouTubers, someone who had greatly influenced my views on politics and culture, was arrested in Ukraine for allegedly spreading “propaganda” and “misinformation.” But this wasn’t true. He was simply recording and commenting on the war in Ukraine, offering his perspective on what he was experiencing as a resident of the country. The Ukrainian authorities arrested him, and not long after, he died in their custody.

This moment was life-altering for me. It gave birth to a new sense of purpose. Here was Ukraine—a country claiming to aspire to “Western values,” a country receiving billions of dollars from American taxpayers, a country seeking NATO membership—arresting an American citizen. Not only that, but this citizen, someone exercising the very free speech Western values are supposed to protect, died while in their custody.

This didn’t sit well with me. As I grappled with the weight of what had happened, I found myself unable to stay silent any longer. By the spring of my freshman year of college, I began openly sharing my political opinions—a stark contrast to the quiet observer I had been before. Around this time, the IB group chat, which had been dormant for months, suddenly came back to life with a burst of activity. The reason? I had been kicked out.

I always knew that most of my peers leaned liberal, but their political views had never been a barrier to our getting along. I valued their perspectives, regardless of our differences, and believed that political ideology should never dictate who I respect or choose to associate with. Unfortunately, it became clear that this sentiment wasn’t mutual. For this group, my political views were grounds for rejection. To them, holding the “wrong” politics wasn’t just a disagreement—it was a moral failing. They equated their political positions with moral superiority, viewing their beliefs as expressions of personal virtue.

This mindset was undoubtedly influenced by the political propaganda we encountered in the IB program. As I’ve mentioned in earlier reflections, individuals taught to accept an ideology without question aren’t truly equipped to think critically. Instead, they operate within the narrow confines of that ideology. When someone challenges these beliefs, they struggle to respond rationally because they haven’t been taught to think independently or critically.

At first, I was caught off guard by the sudden weaponization of what was once just a lighthearted group chat. The IB had marketed itself as a program fostering diverse thought and open-mindedness, but this ideal seemed absent in this group of students. Instead, their reaction exposed the very intellectual rigidity they claimed to oppose.

IB LEARNER PROFILE INFOGRAPHIC

Getting kicked out of a high school group chat is, in the grand scheme of things, trivial and inconsequential. But it points to something much larger at play. It reflects a growing intransigence within a segment of the population—a refusal to engage with differing perspectives. In a democracy, compromise is essential for its survival. This willingness to meet in the middle is what has allowed the United States to endure for more than two centuries. The one time the nation failed to reach a compromise, it led to the Civil War.

On one side of the political divide, there is a segment of people who have been educated to view their ideology as a moral imperative—an unquestionable truth that others must adopt. For them, political disagreements aren’t merely about being right or wrong; they are about good versus evil. Those who dissent are not just mistaken—they are immoral, even inhuman. When you demonize those who think differently, stripping them of their humanity, you create the society we are living in today: a society so deeply polarized that compromise feels impossible.

My peers from the IB program are undoubtedly intelligent individuals, but their intelligence has been misapplied. They’ve been guided to embrace an ideology that, in the long run, is more harmful than beneficial. Because they were taught what to think rather than how to think, their ability to engage in genuine critical thinking has been stifled. Ironically, this makes them the opposite of the open-minded individuals the IB program claims to cultivate. Instead of fostering intellectual curiosity, it has left them more closed-minded than ever.

In the aftermath of this event, some of my peers in the group chat defended me, while others vehemently opposed me. People took sides, and the whole situation quickly spiraled into something childish, ridiculous, and, in hindsight, hilariously overblown. What struck me most was the behavior of those who were against me—they were the loudest, angriest, and most hysterical voices in the room. It was as if they had gone their entire lives without ever encountering someone with a differing opinion. My dissenting view seemed to trigger a tribal response in their hindbrain, a visceral reaction to what they perceived as an existential threat to their ideological bubble.

The greatest lesson I learned from this YouTuber is to never take a side simply to appear popular or virtuous. Instead, always stand for what is good, honest, and right. In this situation, the right thing to do was not to ostracize someone for holding a different opinion but to remain open to discussion. For me, it has always been more important to stand by my beliefs than to chase popularity. That realization has become one of the defining characteristics of my life. I value the exchange of diverse viewpoints, whether they prove me right or wrong, far more than blindly conforming to an ideology instilled in me. I refuse to live my life accepting everything a teacher or society tells me is good without questioning it first.

There is a psychological phenomenon where people hate it when someone goes against the group, especially if that person is right. The group despises the outsider who thinks differently, and they make it very clear. The more right the individual is, the more the group hates them for it. So, it becomes a question of how you want to live your life. Do you want to live an easy life, staying part of a group that believes in an ideology without questioning it? A group that might believe lies, tolerate corruption, and blindly follow authority figures who spread those lies? Or do you want to know the truth?

It is comforting to live in a group of happy fools who believe things that aren’t true. It feels good to be part of a group that accepts you, to belong to a collective where no one questions anything, no one thinks for themselves, and everyone just goes along. They go along with the curriculum, the teachers, the priests, the political leaders—or any leaders, really. Leaders who might be corrupt. Leaders who might not be what they seem. Leaders who, out of fear of being exposed, act in despicable ways.

These are questions everyone has to answer for themselves. Do you want to follow an ideology, a priest, or a leader, and close your eyes to everything else, just going along like a zombie? Or do you want to go through life with your eyes open, asking yourself what is true? For me, I’d rather be alone, searching for the truth and being hated for it, than live a life of conformity.

When you see two people in a dispute—like in the group chat situation—and you’re just a spectator, sooner or later, you may find yourself pressured to pick a side. There’s a strong temptation to choose the side that’s more “popular,” the side with the bigger numbers. I encourage you to resist that temptation. Whether it’s trivial high school drama or a situation with serious consequences, always let yourself be guided by what is true, good, and honest. Never pick the “popular” side just because it seems safer or easier—pick the right side.

This isn’t just a moral issue; it’s practical. Over time, the truth always comes out. The side with the larger numbers often turns out to be wrong, and when that happens, people will turn against them. This always happens. From a pragmatic point of view, aligning with the “popular” side can backfire. Choosing the side that is true and honest, even if it’s smaller or less popular, is ultimately the wiser choice because, in the long run, the truth prevails. The “popular” side, no matter how strong it seems, will eventually collapse if it’s built on lies.

If you choose the “popular” side for the sake of convenience or personal gain, your conscience will never let you rest. It will remind you that you didn’t pick that side because it was right but because you wanted to improve your position. Sure, the “popular” side might reward you with acceptance, money, or even power for your loyalty, but the cost is your integrity. Worse, others will see through your motivations. They’ll know you picked the “popular” side for self-interest, and they won’t trust or respect you.

“What comes around goes around” is more than just a saying—it’s a universal truth. Disputes that might seem lost in the moment often find resolution in the long run, as time reveals which side was truly right. Eventually, people begin to see that the “winner” of a conflict may have been wrong, dishonest, or even outright evil. Once they come to this realization, their rejection of that side is often permanent. This is why you should never fear going against what is popular if it means standing with what is true and good. When you take that stand, you never have to question yourself or feel insecure—you know you’re aligned with what is right.

You can easily recognize those who stand firmly for their beliefs and what they know to be true, as opposed to those who take a side merely to be “popular.” There’s an emptiness in people who choose the popular side just to gain acceptance or remain in the good graces of a group. That lack of conviction is always apparent. This is where you have to decide what kind of person you want to be—someone who stands by their principles or someone who compromises them for fleeting approval.

AUTHOR

Antonio Ancaya

©2025 . All rights reserved.

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