I don't normally review movies because, well, I don't like my writing enough (nor am I particularly good at expressing opinions). But I couldn't pass up the opportunity, especially with the controversy surrounding this documentary...
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Let me state this right out: I'm not much of a fan of Bill Maher's style of discourse. I never really found him to allow for real debate on "Politically Incorrect," and even in his latest documentary Religulous, I find his style to be overly biased and at times sarcastic. I have never believed that the point of a documentary was to promote one's personal views, but rather to objectively bring light to a problem or to raise an issue for your thought. Flat out, don't like it. Reminds me of Michael Moore, who I think we can all agree (if we are free thinkers) is not a real documentarian.
But the point of this documentary, its true value (as I find it) is not in its message, which comes through quite strongly, but at the dialogue it (seeks to) inspire. Now, I'm religious, a pretty committed Christian. But, like many religious individuals, I have had moments of extreme doubt and abandonment when it came to my religion, my God, my faith, and, most of all, the Bible. Bill Maher is basically, in Religulous, chronicaling his own decision to explore religion, to humbly examine its beliefs from the perspective of a non-believer trying to grasp at why people believe.
There is, however, a curse in this world, a dark storm brewing its behemoth might and threatening to tear humanity and the planet apart. It is called, organized religion. Yes, I said it, organized religion is the bane of human existence; if we ever collapse as a civilization it will be the doing solely of our attachment to the religious leaders that direct our will. Through a journey that takes him from the streets of LA to Salt Lake City, Orlando, the Bible Belt and ultimately to Amsterdam and Jerusalem, Maher explores a number of organized religions and their leaders, questioning their attachment to what he views to be almost insane beliefs. What he finds, however, is perhaps not that the messages are necessarily wrong, but that it is the ever-flawed human element behind them that threatens to destroy everything humanity has worked to create since the Enlightenment.
Beginning, as it were, with the story of his own experience with religion as the son of a devoutly Catholic father and a Jewish mother who attended Catholic school until age 13, Maher suggests that what many of us find in religion has to do with our insecurities and our fallibilities. In a particularly poignant--albeit hilarious--interview with his mother and sister, Maher tries to find out why it was one day that his father suddenly quit the Catholic church when he was 13, and why religion no longer became an important issue in their household (it seems the church's condemnation of birth control did the trick). He then explores Christian fundamentalism in America, and many of its leaders prove themselves simply unable to have a rational conversation. I mean, I still wonder how you can talk of a loving, charitable God yet plug your best-selling book and homophobia (and the occasional racism) at the same time. Neither does Maher. What ultimately develops is a picture of a religion, one based around its founder Jesus Christ, a religion that is totally at odds with the message and principles of that founder.
And then there was Mormonism. Now, don't get me wrong, nothing against Mormons--I've generally found them to be kind and very loving people (unless you tell them you're gay, then, well, shit). But, as Maher points out, the Mormon church has some pretty, well, mysticism-esque beliefs. For example, like Scientology (another religion that is often openly mocked), Mormonism believes that our creator lives on another planet. Of course, there is nothing to do with self-auditing, but there is posthumous baptism of such individuals as Adolf Hitler (really, Mormonism? REALLY?!?) and Joan of Arc (ok, pretty sure she spoke to God as well so she's covered I'd say). But dogma is dogma and your choice of belief is certainly yours to make.
Finally he discusses the other two of the big three: Judaism and Islam. Again, as before, the fundamentalists show themselves at odds with the reality of modern life, even as they answer text messages and claim their right to freedom of speech while bemoaning that right in others (even killing, in some cases, to take it away). But Maher is quick to avoid nitpicking on any single religion or sect, but instead to point out the greatest issue with much of fundamentalist religion: its focus, like early Catholicism, on a complete lack of thought. Fundamentalist leaders thrive off of their ability to tell their followers what to do: how to vote (a great clip comes to mind of a woman at a festival of some sort: "I vote for George Bush because, well...I don't really know much about his policies but I share his faith so that's all that matters."), where to invest their money, even what movies to see or what music to listen to. Frankly, I think any God who has watched humanity developed would be heartbroken to see it exploit and use in such a way, to completely abandon its God-given intellect to follow such leaders.
And therein lies the value in this film. It is not a exclusively a critique of (or worse, a tirade against) organized religion, but a sincere call for honest thought about the issue. I personally believe that everyone should follow whatever faith (or lack thereof) they find to be true, but I hesitate to accept the ability of those who follow fundamentalist sects to go on that ever-important search for that truth. Throughout my teen years I had an outright battle against my religion and my God, much like Maher who ultimately rejected his religion. But if you are going to be religious, as I have chosen to be, I think it is also vital to go through that questioning, to honestly and genuinely search for your truth and your values and your reasons to believe. If you can't find that, then why do you believe at all, and how can you say that you have true faith? Faith has never meant blindness to questioning; faith is, rather, an acceptance of doubt and an understanding that there will always be doubt, but the rational and informed decision to jump past that doubt and just accept something. We have faith in our friends even though we know they could easily hurt us, because through that faith we know that they never would. But it would be dumb to trust a total stranger with your bank account information, for example. In much the same way, it's completely dumb to trust someone who sounds great and who promises that all of your questions will be answered and all your problems taken care of, without ever questioning that person and his or her right to speak on behalf of your creator.
So I hope that Maher's film can pique more than one person's interest, and can start a real conversation. Unfortunately, those who most need to see it, to inject a little bit of doubt (and willingness to do so) into their lives and their beliefs, never will even give one ear. But I, well, I will gladly doubt and question the tenets of my religion everyday, especially those tenets written in the Bible, because that is the only way I know to arrive at a deeper understanding of what it means to be faith. I am not afraid to watch a documentary like this, to have my beliefs questioned and thrown into a trash compactor, because I have seen them hold up, and because I believe that is what I am supposed to do. But, hey, if you're afraid to question your beliefs, afraid to let them stand the test of threat from outside, then don't see this movie. Otherwise, go see it right now, and let's have a conversation about the place of religion in the modern world.
Case in point: is it right to condemn loving relationships and to create unnecessary legal hiccups just because the Bible (and only the Old Testament, mind you) allegedly condemns homosexual acts? Frankly, I don't want to worship a God who believes that love should be denied in any form. Do you? Therein lies the challenge of modern religion: whether to change to accomodate modern life, or to cling to a 2000-year old mysticism that would, were it claimed as fact today, seem to be utter insanity?
Friday, November 21, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
A Non-Issue: or why we shouldn't care about same-sex marriage
You know, generally I am somewhat apathetic when it comes to presidential races (or gubernatorial, senatorial or congressional races) because, frankly, I could care less about a candidate's record and his or her likely success as "leader of the free world" (I use that phrase with irony, in case that's not clear). Politics, to me, is quite generally an actor's game, built on creating an image and appearing to believe what you say you believe, whether or not those beliefs are true. It is a game of who can stay most consistent with a set of principles outlined in his or her platform nine months before the election (as if a person's mind cannot, under any circumstances, be changed in that time span). I encourage intelligent voting and informed decision-making, but there's a level at which information becomes too excessive, somewhere around the point when every single word a candidate says--in a speech, in a conversation at a cafe, or in his own bedroom--can be held against him.
But there is one thing, this election, that really gets me riled up and pissed off. Perhaps it is a bit stereotypical, ok, but California's Proposition 8 (on which I will be voting no, clearly) not only enrages me but also confounds and bewilders me. I am a child of the 1990s (although I am proud to say I was born in the 1980s), raised to believe that equality of opportunity is an inalienable truth and that any person born in this country or brought to its shores with the hope of partaking of its valor was entitled to that equality. Proposition 8, which attempts to repeal the state supreme court's finding that defining marriage as between a man and a woman fundamentally denies equality to same-sex couples, makes me question whether modern society actually has reached that point. Civil rights, it seems, is more a political tool--the workings of a Kennedy/Johnson administration interested in winning a growing political constituency--than a fundamental national value.
Now, I truly believe that any rational human being who believes in the right to equal opportunity for all individuals cannot support the denial of same-sex marriage rights. This belief is based on two lines of reasoning that I find to be logically sound and infallible. First, marriage, as bestowed by the state, is at its core NOT a religious issue but a civil issue; it is the right of two consenting adults to form a union recognized by civil society (a "civil union," if you will) and to obtain all of the rights and benefits of that union (i.e. joint taxes, shared healthcare, and the essential recognition by the state of this couple's status as members of one joint family). Considering this fact, to argue that the Bible or God's will has any bearing on the state's choice of how to decide marriage is a disrespect to the First Amendment's guarantee of the separation of church and state.
Based on that reasoning comes my second point, which is that, as a civil right, marriage cannot be denied to anyone who willingly seeks to have one bestowed. A part of the civil rights struggle of the sixties was, believe it or not, marriage equality; that is, the right of two individuals of two different races to marry without risk of harm or retribution. I am proud to say that I am a product of the recognition of that right, and although my parents are divorced, without the granting of marriage equality it's entirely possible that I would not exist. Now, I am a gay man, yes, but, frankly, I don't care about this issue because I want to be able to get married or because I necessarily intend to. Rather, I know, based on personal experience and the passionate feelings of those arguing against same-sex marriage that until same-sex marriage is recognized as legitimate, same-sex couples will never be able to feel welcome or accepted in American society. And, frankly, I don't want to live in a world that denies anyone--whether it is me or not--the right to live their life without unnecessary intervention from the state.
So perhaps you have religious beliefs that tell you that homosexuality is a sin or you believe based on Darwinian theories of biology that homosexuals should not exist because sexual attraction between members of the same sex is unnatural (we can have that discussion, you and I, another time if so), and I'll leave you to those beliefs. But, if you believe that the state should interpret its definition of what amounts to a civil right based on a religious, traditional or personal belief, just consider this: what would happen if the same decision were held true in the civil rights era? Was it not a religious, traditional or personal belief that Black Americans and White Americans cannot have equal access to education or to buses or to bathroom facilities? And as to the claim that people would be prosecuted for their personal beliefs with this decision, I'm sorry, but I believe that those people should be prosecuted when they seek to use those beliefs to deny rights to individuals based only on one quality of who that person is. Remember, this decision says nothing about whether or not churches have to grant these marriages, only that state institutions have to recognize them and bestow rights accordingly. I hope, with that in mind, that if you can vote in California that you will, and that you will vote a vehement NO on Prop 8. However else you vote is no concern of mine; but, in this case, this issue is about whether or not our society supports equal civil rights. Same-sex marriage is not a political issue; it is a right. I'm sorry, but politicians are using it--and have been using it for years--to divide the country along religious lines. It's time these needless issues give way to the real ones (like, say, economic policy or energy). And frankly, this country has made no progress if this measure passes, and I hope (yeah, I said it, I hope) that that's not true.
But there is one thing, this election, that really gets me riled up and pissed off. Perhaps it is a bit stereotypical, ok, but California's Proposition 8 (on which I will be voting no, clearly) not only enrages me but also confounds and bewilders me. I am a child of the 1990s (although I am proud to say I was born in the 1980s), raised to believe that equality of opportunity is an inalienable truth and that any person born in this country or brought to its shores with the hope of partaking of its valor was entitled to that equality. Proposition 8, which attempts to repeal the state supreme court's finding that defining marriage as between a man and a woman fundamentally denies equality to same-sex couples, makes me question whether modern society actually has reached that point. Civil rights, it seems, is more a political tool--the workings of a Kennedy/Johnson administration interested in winning a growing political constituency--than a fundamental national value.
Now, I truly believe that any rational human being who believes in the right to equal opportunity for all individuals cannot support the denial of same-sex marriage rights. This belief is based on two lines of reasoning that I find to be logically sound and infallible. First, marriage, as bestowed by the state, is at its core NOT a religious issue but a civil issue; it is the right of two consenting adults to form a union recognized by civil society (a "civil union," if you will) and to obtain all of the rights and benefits of that union (i.e. joint taxes, shared healthcare, and the essential recognition by the state of this couple's status as members of one joint family). Considering this fact, to argue that the Bible or God's will has any bearing on the state's choice of how to decide marriage is a disrespect to the First Amendment's guarantee of the separation of church and state.
Based on that reasoning comes my second point, which is that, as a civil right, marriage cannot be denied to anyone who willingly seeks to have one bestowed. A part of the civil rights struggle of the sixties was, believe it or not, marriage equality; that is, the right of two individuals of two different races to marry without risk of harm or retribution. I am proud to say that I am a product of the recognition of that right, and although my parents are divorced, without the granting of marriage equality it's entirely possible that I would not exist. Now, I am a gay man, yes, but, frankly, I don't care about this issue because I want to be able to get married or because I necessarily intend to. Rather, I know, based on personal experience and the passionate feelings of those arguing against same-sex marriage that until same-sex marriage is recognized as legitimate, same-sex couples will never be able to feel welcome or accepted in American society. And, frankly, I don't want to live in a world that denies anyone--whether it is me or not--the right to live their life without unnecessary intervention from the state.
So perhaps you have religious beliefs that tell you that homosexuality is a sin or you believe based on Darwinian theories of biology that homosexuals should not exist because sexual attraction between members of the same sex is unnatural (we can have that discussion, you and I, another time if so), and I'll leave you to those beliefs. But, if you believe that the state should interpret its definition of what amounts to a civil right based on a religious, traditional or personal belief, just consider this: what would happen if the same decision were held true in the civil rights era? Was it not a religious, traditional or personal belief that Black Americans and White Americans cannot have equal access to education or to buses or to bathroom facilities? And as to the claim that people would be prosecuted for their personal beliefs with this decision, I'm sorry, but I believe that those people should be prosecuted when they seek to use those beliefs to deny rights to individuals based only on one quality of who that person is. Remember, this decision says nothing about whether or not churches have to grant these marriages, only that state institutions have to recognize them and bestow rights accordingly. I hope, with that in mind, that if you can vote in California that you will, and that you will vote a vehement NO on Prop 8. However else you vote is no concern of mine; but, in this case, this issue is about whether or not our society supports equal civil rights. Same-sex marriage is not a political issue; it is a right. I'm sorry, but politicians are using it--and have been using it for years--to divide the country along religious lines. It's time these needless issues give way to the real ones (like, say, economic policy or energy). And frankly, this country has made no progress if this measure passes, and I hope (yeah, I said it, I hope) that that's not true.
Friday, June 27, 2008
A Frightening World
The most frightening thing about dystopias is that while they are imagined and, in a certain light, fantasy worlds they are based on and build off of our modern world. Now, I've never been much of one to take to conspiracy theories and to distrust of the powers at hand, but of late I've been noticing a few similarities between your average 1984 world and the one we live in now. Don't get me wrong, modern life is wonderful; but, I wonder how much of it we're willing to take before we give up the idea of a "personal" life and give ourselves over to mass-marketing and technology-controlled lifestyles.
Right about now this all sounds like a bunch of garbled lingo, but in all honesty I think it is time we take a step back and realize how absurd our lives and our media and our government have become. For example: I was watching CNN yesterday--a well-respected news source, mind you--and as Wolf Blitzer raised the issue of Congress' proposal to dump nuclear waste in the deserts of Nevada, a reporter was called to comment on the political sentiment around the controversy at-hand. Nevada residents, of course, object to the dumping considering the potential health hazards and the general sketchiness of nuclear waste, while experts claimed it was the most appropriate, least populated area in the country. But, what was interesting was not the perspectives given, but they way the reporter presented them in a conversational tone, making the debate out almost to some sort of political farce with characters falling into the typical caricatures of their roles. The absurdity of the whole moment lies here: while it is a serious issue, it was presented almost jovially, and as a viewer I personally took it in almost as something that I could skip over on the way to another, more important issue--the Obama/McCain battle. And then I did a double-take...is this really minor news that should be summarized in 30 seconds? I mean, this is NUCLEAR WASTE we are talking about, something not to be treated like a local debate over a stop sign or speed limits.
But worst of all, later the show presented a debate between two senators relating to the recent questions over the Patriot Act (and Obama's potential support of the act...wtf?). I mean, it's pretty clear that the Patriot Act violates the right to privacy and probably the right to free speech as guaranteed by our Bill of Rights, but still a senator (or a president) can throw the War on Terror into anything and suddenly we have an acceptable piece of legislation. Our nation's fear of terrorism, while justified, seems to be turning a little towards the Big Brother style. Maybe this is why so many movies have been released of late questioning these sorts of ideas: Children of Men, V for Vendetta, or Minority Report come to mind, among others. It's right to take measures to protect ourselves, but how far should those measures go? Is it worth living a life when that life is lived in constant fear of attack?
So I don't know how we got here exactly, but I do know that it alarms me. If Orwell saw our modern world, I don't think he would be pleased of our progress. It's quite possible he would be even more fearful of life today than he was of Post-War Europe, which, while frightening, at least wasn't characterized by the constant risk of monitoring and tracking. That's the world we live in, though. What can we do, now that we've come this far? Progress is a tricky thing...
Right about now this all sounds like a bunch of garbled lingo, but in all honesty I think it is time we take a step back and realize how absurd our lives and our media and our government have become. For example: I was watching CNN yesterday--a well-respected news source, mind you--and as Wolf Blitzer raised the issue of Congress' proposal to dump nuclear waste in the deserts of Nevada, a reporter was called to comment on the political sentiment around the controversy at-hand. Nevada residents, of course, object to the dumping considering the potential health hazards and the general sketchiness of nuclear waste, while experts claimed it was the most appropriate, least populated area in the country. But, what was interesting was not the perspectives given, but they way the reporter presented them in a conversational tone, making the debate out almost to some sort of political farce with characters falling into the typical caricatures of their roles. The absurdity of the whole moment lies here: while it is a serious issue, it was presented almost jovially, and as a viewer I personally took it in almost as something that I could skip over on the way to another, more important issue--the Obama/McCain battle. And then I did a double-take...is this really minor news that should be summarized in 30 seconds? I mean, this is NUCLEAR WASTE we are talking about, something not to be treated like a local debate over a stop sign or speed limits.
But worst of all, later the show presented a debate between two senators relating to the recent questions over the Patriot Act (and Obama's potential support of the act...wtf?). I mean, it's pretty clear that the Patriot Act violates the right to privacy and probably the right to free speech as guaranteed by our Bill of Rights, but still a senator (or a president) can throw the War on Terror into anything and suddenly we have an acceptable piece of legislation. Our nation's fear of terrorism, while justified, seems to be turning a little towards the Big Brother style. Maybe this is why so many movies have been released of late questioning these sorts of ideas: Children of Men, V for Vendetta, or Minority Report come to mind, among others. It's right to take measures to protect ourselves, but how far should those measures go? Is it worth living a life when that life is lived in constant fear of attack?
So I don't know how we got here exactly, but I do know that it alarms me. If Orwell saw our modern world, I don't think he would be pleased of our progress. It's quite possible he would be even more fearful of life today than he was of Post-War Europe, which, while frightening, at least wasn't characterized by the constant risk of monitoring and tracking. That's the world we live in, though. What can we do, now that we've come this far? Progress is a tricky thing...
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Quarter-Life Crisis
I applied to graduate today. It was a rather unceremonious event that felt more like paying your gas bill than starting the wheel turning on one of life's most momentous events. Likewise, I powered through three more pages of my thesis and spent an afternoon working in the office (doing, so-to-speak, actual work). It seems more and more that being a student should be my full-time job, but instead I'm paying upwards of $15,000 a year (after aid) for this opportunity. I'm beginning to think, though, that the business of universities as they function today is increasingly backwards, especially as these institutions of higher learning compete to attract the ever more competitive classes of 2012 and beyond, each cohort more a group of achieved than the last, each putting the senior class to shame for their accomplishments. Rather than viewing a university education as an investment in one's future, perhaps it is time universities began to see the value in investing in our young minds.
Personally, I have little idea, standing now a little over three months away from that ever-touted day when I walk, bedecked in cap-and-gown, to receive the diploma I've slaved the last four years over. It will be a simple piece of paper, a ceremonious hand shake, and a few photographs to represent the past four years. In the reflective mood I find myself, I am increasingly questioning what it is I have learned over those years, what this journey to the eventual stage has meant. This piece of paper will represent, among other things, the awkwardness of arriving in Lag at 8AM on a Sunday morning to be cheered by my RAs (who, stalkers that they were, knew my name already). It will represent the starts of a number of life-long friendships and four years of glimmers of love and broken hearts. It will represent six-months in Paris, six-months in a place that felt completely foreign--nay, alien--at the beginning and now feels in many ways more like home than the original. It will represent literal days-upon-days of reading, paper-writing, problem-setting, and, of course, crazy partying to counterbalance the stress of it all. Last of all, it will represent a young man who was little more than an adolescent when he arrived and leaves fully aware not only of himself but also assured of his identity.
But I can't shake a nagging feeling that something is missing in all of this: namely, a sense of direction. I'm getting ready to, some might say, embark on the beginning of my fully-realized life, to begin that ominous search for a fulfilling and exciting "career." But I have no idea where to start!
To be honest, I love my major, I love urban studies, I could see myself happy as an urban planner, yet I can't at all say whether that career path would feel more right or more satisfying than, say, working as an office assistant or something along those lines. I once thought I would never go into research, but as I get further through this whole thesis thing I'm beginning to think that maybe research would be a worthwhile pursuit. I know some of the things that I like to do: I like to write (go figure)--just not for too long, I like to be in charge of projects (because I like to have control and to work independently), I can't work for extended periods of time without breaking frequently to concentrate on something other than my work, and I love thinking, reflecting...je pense. What job can use that skill set? What career can put those passions to practice? I'm looking, but I have yet to find anything that is actually, truthfully, perfect for me.
So I'll just sit here, at the end of Winter Quarter, and wait to hear what will come my way. I'll make a choice, I suppose, and figure out what I want to do with my life then. For now, however, life is good, and my thesis is getting written at a snail's pace, and it's almost Spring Break! And I'm blogging for the first time in months.
Weird.
Here's to not knowing where you want your life to go! Truth is, no matter how much they seem like they have a direction and a path laid out ahead of them, nobody my age, contemplating their imminent graduation from college, has any idea what they want to do with their life. I just have no direction to start with. That's the beauty of being young.
Personally, I have little idea, standing now a little over three months away from that ever-touted day when I walk, bedecked in cap-and-gown, to receive the diploma I've slaved the last four years over. It will be a simple piece of paper, a ceremonious hand shake, and a few photographs to represent the past four years. In the reflective mood I find myself, I am increasingly questioning what it is I have learned over those years, what this journey to the eventual stage has meant. This piece of paper will represent, among other things, the awkwardness of arriving in Lag at 8AM on a Sunday morning to be cheered by my RAs (who, stalkers that they were, knew my name already). It will represent the starts of a number of life-long friendships and four years of glimmers of love and broken hearts. It will represent six-months in Paris, six-months in a place that felt completely foreign--nay, alien--at the beginning and now feels in many ways more like home than the original. It will represent literal days-upon-days of reading, paper-writing, problem-setting, and, of course, crazy partying to counterbalance the stress of it all. Last of all, it will represent a young man who was little more than an adolescent when he arrived and leaves fully aware not only of himself but also assured of his identity.
But I can't shake a nagging feeling that something is missing in all of this: namely, a sense of direction. I'm getting ready to, some might say, embark on the beginning of my fully-realized life, to begin that ominous search for a fulfilling and exciting "career." But I have no idea where to start!
To be honest, I love my major, I love urban studies, I could see myself happy as an urban planner, yet I can't at all say whether that career path would feel more right or more satisfying than, say, working as an office assistant or something along those lines. I once thought I would never go into research, but as I get further through this whole thesis thing I'm beginning to think that maybe research would be a worthwhile pursuit. I know some of the things that I like to do: I like to write (go figure)--just not for too long, I like to be in charge of projects (because I like to have control and to work independently), I can't work for extended periods of time without breaking frequently to concentrate on something other than my work, and I love thinking, reflecting...je pense. What job can use that skill set? What career can put those passions to practice? I'm looking, but I have yet to find anything that is actually, truthfully, perfect for me.
So I'll just sit here, at the end of Winter Quarter, and wait to hear what will come my way. I'll make a choice, I suppose, and figure out what I want to do with my life then. For now, however, life is good, and my thesis is getting written at a snail's pace, and it's almost Spring Break! And I'm blogging for the first time in months.
Weird.
Here's to not knowing where you want your life to go! Truth is, no matter how much they seem like they have a direction and a path laid out ahead of them, nobody my age, contemplating their imminent graduation from college, has any idea what they want to do with their life. I just have no direction to start with. That's the beauty of being young.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Slightly more opinion, slightly less engagement
I was talking with my thesis adviser the other day about more or less random things, and, well, I can't seem to stop thinking about one of the topics we discussed: the generational divide that exists between the Boomers and Gen X-ers and my own generation. It perhaps speaks something of my generation that we are often given a name by other generations or in reference to those generations: Gen Y, the "Me" Generation, and other, perhaps more derogatory, names. So what happens when this generation grows old enough to become completely incomprehensible to its predecessors.
The reason this question came to mind, I would argue, is the seeming political apathy that many from the older generations perceive because college students of today have shown little interest in taking to the streets and starting marches in protest of the War in Iraq and our generally deplorable foreign affairs situation. While this may be the case, it may not actually be that our generation is in fact so apathetic when it comes to politics. In fact, I would purport that today's young people--especially those in college--are infinitely more informed than their predecessors and are acutely aware to a level that is almost unfathomable for older generations of the political climate and international happenings in our lives. This is the generation, lest we forget, that grew up in a world where information was readily accessible and effortlessly available at the click of a mouse. We have never known a library search that required looking through a paper catalog, nor have we ever hand-written (or even type-written) a term paper. The demands upon the academics among us have risen accordingly, and the competition to enter the ever more over-qualified workforce is only growing with time. We are, after all, the most proportionally college-educated generation yet (and, surely, the generation to follow will be even more so, should the trend continue). So we're smart, and that is pretty universally understood. But, why are we not non-violent marchers like our '60s-era counterparts? Why do we not produce the orators like our previous anti-war brethren, why are we not the incendiary rebels who make their nation aware of its flaws and errors?
Well, maybe, my elders, you haven't been paying attention (it's understandable when the medium to watch is a bit less comprehensible than those you know well). The upcoming generation, the newbies, the youth, or whoever we are, communicate in ways that our uniquely our own, just as your generation communicated in its own ways. Except for the minor detail that ours have names like AIM, MSN, Facebook, MySpace, and, yes, blogging. This generation was not raised on the streets, we were raised in front of a computer monitor and a television screen (note: this was, for the most part, a decision made by your generation--in the collective sense). And, forgive us for living outside the world of marches, marijuana and music, but we are only working in the framework that we know best.
So rather than sit back wondering where the marchers and the orators are (and, mind you, they do exist in this generation as well), perhaps it is more worth your while to just sit back and give us time to come into our own. Each generation is different than the last, and we're not here to recreate your idealistic nostalgia. Rather, we will work in the world that we know best: the world that is our own, the world that will soon be your own as well. The nostalgia is good and it has its proper place, but there is also something to be said for change and for a new modus operandi. So, maybe it's more valuable to read the blogs and to watch the Facebook updates--a new politics is brewing, and the generational divide is forcing its way through the mainstream. All it takes is an online ballot or, well, a YouTube debate. The world changes, each generation has its time in the sun. Respectfully, it seems your sun is setting and tomorrow is dawning. Only time will tell what changes will come.
The reason this question came to mind, I would argue, is the seeming political apathy that many from the older generations perceive because college students of today have shown little interest in taking to the streets and starting marches in protest of the War in Iraq and our generally deplorable foreign affairs situation. While this may be the case, it may not actually be that our generation is in fact so apathetic when it comes to politics. In fact, I would purport that today's young people--especially those in college--are infinitely more informed than their predecessors and are acutely aware to a level that is almost unfathomable for older generations of the political climate and international happenings in our lives. This is the generation, lest we forget, that grew up in a world where information was readily accessible and effortlessly available at the click of a mouse. We have never known a library search that required looking through a paper catalog, nor have we ever hand-written (or even type-written) a term paper. The demands upon the academics among us have risen accordingly, and the competition to enter the ever more over-qualified workforce is only growing with time. We are, after all, the most proportionally college-educated generation yet (and, surely, the generation to follow will be even more so, should the trend continue). So we're smart, and that is pretty universally understood. But, why are we not non-violent marchers like our '60s-era counterparts? Why do we not produce the orators like our previous anti-war brethren, why are we not the incendiary rebels who make their nation aware of its flaws and errors?
Well, maybe, my elders, you haven't been paying attention (it's understandable when the medium to watch is a bit less comprehensible than those you know well). The upcoming generation, the newbies, the youth, or whoever we are, communicate in ways that our uniquely our own, just as your generation communicated in its own ways. Except for the minor detail that ours have names like AIM, MSN, Facebook, MySpace, and, yes, blogging. This generation was not raised on the streets, we were raised in front of a computer monitor and a television screen (note: this was, for the most part, a decision made by your generation--in the collective sense). And, forgive us for living outside the world of marches, marijuana and music, but we are only working in the framework that we know best.
So rather than sit back wondering where the marchers and the orators are (and, mind you, they do exist in this generation as well), perhaps it is more worth your while to just sit back and give us time to come into our own. Each generation is different than the last, and we're not here to recreate your idealistic nostalgia. Rather, we will work in the world that we know best: the world that is our own, the world that will soon be your own as well. The nostalgia is good and it has its proper place, but there is also something to be said for change and for a new modus operandi. So, maybe it's more valuable to read the blogs and to watch the Facebook updates--a new politics is brewing, and the generational divide is forcing its way through the mainstream. All it takes is an online ballot or, well, a YouTube debate. The world changes, each generation has its time in the sun. Respectfully, it seems your sun is setting and tomorrow is dawning. Only time will tell what changes will come.
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