December 2004 -- I was thirteen when I was first introduced to Ayn Rand . I was blessed with an English teacher who saw in me the core of an emerging philosophical mind.
"Write a two-page essay on your philosophy of life," Miss Price said.
I responded: "My philosophy of life is that everyone has the right to their own happiness, as long as their happiness doesn't interfere with my own," and I went on for a page and a half, expanding on that premise, then turned the paper in the next day.
To my surprise, Miss Price used the essay as an example of clear writing that had an understanding of the assignment, and she posted it on the bulletin board. On it, she had written: "'The high minded man (or woman) cares more for truth than for what people think.' Aristotle. See me in my office."
When I arrived, she turned to me without greeting and asked, "Have you ever read anything by Ayn Rand ?" And with that she handed me The Fountainhead . She explained that my essay suggested a potential interest in Objectivism and that I should explore how Rand's philosophy resonated with my own.
From that moment on, I couldn't get enough. Further, I couldn't find anyone but my teacher with whom to discuss what I was discovering through Rand's books. Isolated in my room, reading constantly, I remained aloof from the turmoil of my sixties generation and also detached from my family and their values. Rand's characters, her morality, her lengthy and intense monologues, all showed me a view of a world to which I wanted to belong.
In the sixties, Objectivism started as a movement with leaders and heroes and a venue for exchanging ideas. In the seventies, whatever momentum there had been became stunted and insular, and the movement discouraged dissent. It is refreshing to see, at last, that Rand's essential philosophy endures and that people are learning again, questioning again, and understanding that to integrate a philosophy of reason one must think for oneself.
Over the years, as I read and re-read Rand's books dozens of times, I came to realize that it isn't enough just to appreciate the "ideal" of that world; one must also expend effort to help create it. Forty-four years after it came to my attention, Objectivism has permeated my personal and professional life—and informed not just what and how I think, but who I am.
This article originally appeared in the December 2004 issue of Navigator magazine, The Atlas Society precursor to The New Individualist.