Youth
Charles Eisenstein 2003What is the cause of the riots that are increasingly common in university towns around the country? Some say alcohol; others cite some mysterious moral degeneration, along the lines of "Young people these days…" Or maybe it's the ambient violence in our society, or the architecture of student apartments, or the parties, or perhaps those greedy bar owners…
But what has really changed in recent decades is not the architecture, the violence in the media, or the bars, and certainly not youth, which is eternally youth, but rather our society's attitude toward youth. The riots are a tragic, inevitable result of this change.
The new attitude toward youth is seen most clearly in alcohol policy, which has changed dramatically since the 1970's. In my town there used to be an event called the Phi Psi 500. In this huge footrace, adults and undergraduates alike raced from bar to bar, quaffing beer at each one, while huge crowds spilled out onto the street drinks in hand, transforming the downtown into a kind of festive zoo. Can you imagine an event like that happening today? The 1970's were a time of considerable permissiveness. Today fraternities are not allowed to have beer kegs; in the 1970's even the dorms had keg parties. After a football game, Beaver Stadium was littered with thousands of beer cans and liquor bottles. The drinking age was enforced laxly, if at all. And Penn State didn't even have an "alcohol policy."
But despite this laxity toward drinking, there were no campus riots in the seventies. And despite today's strict controls, students are drinking more fiercely than ever. Where have we gone wrong?
The age 21 drinking law and all the accompanying anti-alcohol messages essentially tell young people: "You are not capable of drinking responsibly." "You are not capable, so we won't let you." This message is pounded into people throughout the teenage years until naturally, they come to believe it themselves -- to believe it and then, whenever possible, to enact it. When we constantly tell people they are not old enough to drink responsibly, is it any wonder that indeed, they do not drink responsibly?
Alcohol restrictions are just part of an even broader message to youth: "You are not trusted to act responsibly." In the seventies, for instance, the local high school had an open campus policy in which kids could leave the school building, without a pass, during study hall or lunch. Today a student's presence anywhere at any time must be authorized. And I'm sure any high school student can think of even more egregious examples of rules that embody the authorities' distrust and disrespect.
Increasingly, the public space is unwelcoming or even closed to young people. Our town's ordinances against skateboarding, loitering, and "cruising" come to mind. Yes, loitering (in my youth we called it "hanging out") is now a restricted activity -- restricted in large part to establishments where one must be a paying customer. Spontaneity is gone from play, for we allow it no space; instead we offer supervised sports and activities relegated to prescribed times and places. Of course it is a nuisance, and maybe even a little dangerous, to have skateboarders on the sidewalks. But there is a word for a society in which people are unwilling to make a little room for others' fun, and in which everything is completely safe. That word is "boring."
(In case anyone doubts that the anti-loitering ordinance is aimed at young people, can you envision the police breaking up a group of elderly people congregated outside a classical music venue after a show?)
Complementary to the prohibitions we levy on youth, and equally onerous, are the prescriptions for how they should spend their time and live their lives. Immersed as we all are in society, it is hard to see just how much we channel and confine the spontaneous blossoming of its younger members. But just try to find a high school kid who is really excited about her education, who simply loves school. At best, sometimes she'll have a great class, a great teacher who reveals a glimpse of what education could and should be. We don't foster that kind of expectation though -- instead school is something to be endured, for the sake of ulterior goals such as personal advancement and a good career. We study because we should. So of course, studying becomes a chore.
As parents, we often relegate our children's passions into the realm of hobby or extracurricular activity, something to do as an aside to the necessities of real life: study, graduation, career preparation, etc. "Mom, can I go out and play?" "Only after you do your homework."
You teachers out there, ask your students whether it is a joy to study. We have almost forgotten that learning can be a joy. Just look at a baby. Babies absorb knowledge far more easily than the rest of us, and they love every minute of it. They never need to exert willpower; nor does their learning depend on outside discipline. When you are doing what you love, learning is natural and effortless.
Students know this deep down. They have a sense that there should be more to their education than this. They know that learning should not be boring, nor a chore. Life should be more than just this, they know. The massing of people, a riot -- it is something to do, something out of the ordinary, something different. That even something so noxious as a riot attracts them, testifies to the intensity of the inchoate sense of wrongness and betrayal that young people feel. When you do what you do because you feel compelled to (for career, parental or social acceptance, the praise encoded in good grades, etc.), and when you know deep down that you really want to do something else, then anything out of the ordinary will attract you. For it is natural to rebel against outside compulsion.
We call grades K-12 "compulsory education." Can you imagine a world where education was so fun, exhilarating, and inspiring that kids would choose it over anything else? For that matter, can you imagine a world where "work" were so fun, exhilarating, and inspiring that everyone would choose it voluntarily over any other activity? That is your birthright -- to do what you love -- and the sense of wrongness and self-betrayal is exacerbated when education points you in another direction. The cliché that "education is preparation for life" is only all too true -- a compulsory education, directed by a coercive authority, prepares us for a life equally subject to coercion, compulsion, and control.
Knowing that there should be more to life than just this, but not knowing what, young people feel shortchanged and resentful. You teachers out there, have you ever noticed that your students are sullen? Looking at the faces of a Penn State class, it is alarming how many look like they hate to be here. In one class I observed, the students erupted into cheers when the professor told them there would be no class the day before Spring Break. One student observed that his classmates are the only consumers in the world who want to get less for their money. Another was refreshingly frank, "I'm only here to get a degree so I can go out and make money." Many, many students on some level share this view that education is something to get out of the way. Under pressures real and imagined, students force themselves to buckle down and study.
Many people look approvingly at those students who do as they are told, who study what they are told to study, who have "self-discipline" and "good study habits." Forcing yourself to do work you don't enjoy builds character. It instills good work habits. But think about it: if education is to prepare one for life, and education is a chore, then for what kind of life are you preparing yourself?
On both sides of the coin, young people get the message, "It is not okay to do what you really want to." First we corral them into narrow, prescribed modes of development that may not fit their natural inclinations. Then, out of fear and mistrust, we as a society exert as tight a control as possible over their activities and freedom. Eventually, young people internalize our fear and distrust, and begin not to trust themselves nor to believe in the beautiful potential harbored in each human being.
To believe in one's beautiful potential, and to strive after it, we dismiss as "youthful idealism"; to disbelieve in it, we affirm as pragmatism or "maturity." Yet isn't it true that so much of human progress, whether scientific, artistic, or social, is impelled and inspired by youth?
Most proposals for dealing with the riot situation involve some kind of crackdown, the imposition of more surveillance, more discipline. Crack down on parties. Seal the apartment balconies shut. Put video cameras in the street. Impose a curfew. None of these address the underlying causes. And in fact, when a force is channeled and confined it becomes more explosive, not less, like steam in a pressure cooker. More restrictions will make the problem worse, not better, and the eventual explosion more terrifying.
Today, the word "permissiveness" has strong negative connotations. Instead we lean toward authority and discipline. But what is discipline, if not the coercing of a person (or oneself) to do other than what he or she really wants to do?
Is to permit, to allow, really such a bad thing? Well, for one thing it demands trust, and as evidenced by our drinking laws and school policies, we as a society have a deep distrust of our young people. And distrust breeds hostility, and resentment, and duplicity. In the end, distrust is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Underlying this distrust of youth can only be a distrust of ourselves. One student observed, "This youthful idealism is shot down by most everybody you talk to because they have already given up." We have exchanged creativity, novelty, and wonder for security and assurance. Though we have extinguished our youthful idealism, its shadow still lingers as an ache in the heart, a gnawing doubt that can never be assuaged; a knowledge, too terrible ever to admit, that Yes, youth is right to resist us, that Yes, there is more to life than just this. And so, the countenance of untrammeled youth strikes fear in our hearts, and shame, inciting our unmitigated hostility and our every effort to dismiss, deny, and suppress it.
Of course, none of this justifies the violent behavior of some of the rioters. Yet underneath their destructive energy is the desire to be part of something greater than themselves; a youthful idealism, and a rebellion against living the partial, tepid, and ultimately fraudulent picture of impending adulthood that we as a society have presented them. One of my PSU students stated that the rioters acted largely out of boredom, a desire for excitement, for something out of the ordinary. This would never happen if life were already exciting. Unfortunately, rioting does little to change the defining social setup that has robbed education and work of joy. Rioting ends eventually in punishment, a seeming lesson in the futility of resistance. To me, the greatest tragedy of the riots is that they divert energy away from constructive action, through which young people might lead us in creating more fulfilling lives for themselves and a better world for us all.
If you are a young person (whether in fact or in spirit), I urge you to claim your birthright, which is to devote your life toward something you love, something that makes your soul sing. Searching for it is not an idle adolescent fantasy; it is what life is all about.
If, on the other hand, you do not feel young, not even in spirit, then ask yourself what exactly it is that you have lost. Or, more properly, ask what it is you have given up. Ask what it is you are denying, your beautiful potential, your secret greatness that you've come to be ashamed of or to disbelieve or to dismiss as impractical. You see, it is never really gone, and the time to start following it is always and forever now. That is what it is to be young.
Whether we find it in ourselves or others, let us celebrate youth, not fear it. Let us be more trusting. And let this trust extend as deeply as our courage allows: even when it seems to conflict with our own ideas of security, propriety, or responsible adulthood, let us trust in youths innate goodness and greatness, in their God-given desire to learn and develop, and in their inalienable right to find their own heart's path and pursue their true passion.