Benjamin Beiler

I admit, I’m an instigator. I was always the ring leader growing up. A rebel at heart. 

I was raised in an Amish community in central Pennsylvania. Music was forbidden, other than singing acapella in school and church. No instruments or recorded music. By the age of six, I was up at the crack of dawn working on my parents’ farm. After eighth grade, I worked full time. I loved to sing, though, and sang alone whenever I could get away with it. I sang in the barn with the diesel generator running because I was terrified my dad would hear me 

 My dad and I clashed big time. He was a rule follower, I was a rule breaker. His mantra was “don’t question authority.” My instinct was to question everyone and everything. He’d say stuff like “you’re worthless” and tell me I wasn’t good enough. I looked up to my dad and wanted to be like him—a hard worker, a good family man. His words cut deep. 

I listened to a cd player until my parents found it and made me smash it. I was always creating things, forbidden and not. I rigged up a loud speaker with a battery and old telephone receiver. A mini barn I built from the ground up still stands today. 

It was tough growing up hearing I was going to go to hell if I did this or that. But even though I lived in such a restricted environment, I always had these crazy dreams. I wanted a computer to watch music videos and movies. I dreamed about becoming a world famous scientist, an inventor, travelling the world. I wanted things most people take for granted, like a cell phone or a car. I needed to explore beyond the walls of my eight-mile world. Despite my stringent upbringing, my artistic spirit wouldn’t let me settle. 

I was always rebelling, hiding radios and electronics, secretly listening to music in the phone shanty. I guess I’ve had that “why the hell not” attitude within me since I was a kid. As I got older, I challenged my dad. I questioned the Amish way of life.