Why I am Wrong
I listened to my wife talking, while the sound of the road under tire hummed with a moderate frequency whistle. The thought crossed my mind; “low hanging fruit”. She was talking about the walkouts. There were police on street corners, bused in from all directions to oversee what was to be a youth in revolt; or so I thought. It was almost 10 AM as I hung up the phone and watched a white Masada Miata swerving in and out of traffic as it passed by. Why was I annoyed?
To most of these teens I would be verging on old, if not already there. I am old enough that I could be their Dad. I could be their teacher. What is their life like? What are their struggles? My thoughts go back to me at sixteen. I remember now. It was hell to be in the hands of the masters. They had been telling me to listen, get in line, follow the rules, do as I was told, and not raise a fuss. Not my parents, not my teachers, but society with all its opinions on youth’s value. I was tired of what they wanted, and they could never understand me, at least not at that moment. That is what I thought, how I felt, and I behaved in a way that verged on lashing out. Was I still the top student in the classroom, or had I degraded to a degenerate capable of who knows what?
In that strange time between 15 and 17 something happened to me and I was unable to cope with the worlds plan for me. Who was I, and what my voice was became so insignificant that I turned to skipping class, leaving early, not showing up, and being angry. What was I angry at? You, me, everything. I was still me, just not really, and I guess I was fed up. I dropped out! Everyone said I couldn’t do that. First off my parents could get in trouble, second I would not graduate, third what and where would I spend my time if I wasn’t in school. A similar version happened to my Sister too. Same age, same problems, same reasoning, same bloodline. Was it in our genetics?
From an early age all that our parents wanted for us was to know that we could be independent; freethinkers. Were they the root cause? As a parent now, I too want my children to be their own people, have an opinion, think on their own, be able to analyze and critique the problem at hand, and have freedom to choose. This is the danger though, and because we teach this way we get the questions, and with the questioning comes the change. How arrogant was I, to be sitting there driving along at 75 miles per hour down a lone stretch of Interstate 80, meanwhile the children of our society moving forward to stand in silence. How dare I judge them! How dare I forget that I once was them! My settled ways of age were coming through in the form of an ego that only damages. My mind wanted to slam shut, close down, and not listen to what they were saying. Yet, I still am a student myself.
The children of our generation have a voice, and we need to listen...
Listen; it is time to take the cotton out my ears and shove it in my mouth. How could I have forgotten that I too needed to be listened to, understood, and treated with the respect and dignity? Now I remember that there was more to being a kid than just shutting up and stepping in line. This is their time. It is not mine, and it is not yours, it is not the elders who should lead at this moment. We simply cannot do what is needed to usher in this new generation.
Their voice is powerful. Their platform is larger than ever before. They are the first generation in history to have the ability to create a new world simply through mass conversation, mass movement, mass extinction of an old way, all so that the tides continue with their ebb and flow. If you are reading this now, please be open to their message. I wasn’t at first, and I was wrong to assume that I knew what was right. If you are like me, then try to remember. Try to remember they are the ones whose lives are at stake. Try to remember that they are what is actually important. Try to pretend that you are wrong, even if you think you are not, just to see what that might be like for once.
