The Uncertainty of Our Times

I was chatting with a friend of mine in the wee hours of the morning the other night.  We were up late writing a research paper and in that caffeinated state in which one remains both tired and awake, where thoughts become clouded and lucid simultaneously – producing some of the best little conversations you can find.  Naturally, we were not discussing anything related to the paper, but an arbitrary assortment of topics, some important, some trivial.  But something he said has stuck with me and it’s been eating away at me since then.  We were talking about books – good books, what makes a good book, our favorite books, books we would recommend etc.  He told me that he had recently read a quote from a certain novelist, whose name escapes me at the moment, that basically said: “In order for a novel to be memorable and successful, it needs to tap into the conscience of a generation – it must understand how that generation defines itself.”

So that got me thinking about my generation.  How would my generation define itself?  Are we even in a position to define ourselves right now?  We are still quite young, most of us in our early to mid-20s.  We have a lot of living left to do.  But I still wonder.  In 100 years, 200 years, 500 years, how will my generation be viewed?

I was born in the late 80’s, 1988 to be exact.  I grew up in the 90s.  Well, at least part of my growing up occurred then – I think it’s still occurring.  By American standards the 90s were pretty uneventful.  The economy was sound, we weren’t involved in any major or prolonged conflicts, and perhaps the biggest scandal of the era was Bill Clinton’s indiscretion with Monica.  I grew up with the Ninja Turtles, Saved by the Bell, Fresh Prince, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, RHCP, Tupac, Biggie, Cypress Hill, DMX, Blink-182, HFS and HFStival, Jurassic Park, Clueless, Harry Potter, All That, Nickelodeon, Britney Spears, TGIF (Boy Meets World and all that jazz), Mrs. Doubtfire, Nintendo, Sega Genesis, Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64, Goldeneye, Super Smash Brothers, Mariokart…  I could go on and on.  As a kid I thought America was the greatest place in the world, that I was so lucky to come from there, that we had the most interesting history of all countries, and that I could be anything in the world I wanted because I was an American.  I’m pretty sure I wanted to be something new basically every other week.  One week it was a paleontologist (because of Jurassic Park, no doubt), the next week it was a comedian, the week after that I wanted to be the President.  My childhood was great.  Yeah, my parents got divorced during that time, that was no fun, but they were fantastic parents regardless, and I grew up a very happy kid in middle-class America.  I remember having the thought, which now seems ridiculous, that my grandparents were lucky to have lived through the Great Depression and WWII.  I saw these events as exciting, a time when America showed its true character, when a person could step up and put their life on the line for their country in what is often viewed as the most “just” war in history.  It was a very naïve perspective, a product of being too young to understand that while dark times often bring out the best in people, there is no reason to hope for them.

Then something happened.  September 11, 2001.  Here we go.  No one needs to be reminded of the specific details of that day.  It was awful – we know that.  It changed everything – we know that.  For me, it was the beginning of the uncertainty that I believe currently pervades my generation.  We grew up in the stable and happy-go-lucky 90s.  Everything was easy breezy during those years.  It’s funny to think about these things now, as I study International Relations in Glasgow.  There’s often reference to the 90s as a period of time in which peace and international cooperation seemed plausible, and achievable.  The Cold War was over, the United States was the only superpower, and it was time to rebuild the world in a democratic style to ensure the liberty of all peoples.  But then, something happened. 9/11.

I was 13 on 9/11.  I was in the 8^th grade.  I remember everything about that day.  I was in Drama Class when we heard the news.  My teacher’s eyes were watering up, and he choked up as he told us “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I don’t think it’s fair for you not to know… planes just crashed into the World Trade Center.”  We really had no idea what that meant at that time, he wouldn’t turn on the news for us, he didn’t want to incite pandemonium.  The school went on lockdown, and we waited anxiously for more word on what happened – as some turned to hysterics, and others began to wonder if we were at war.  The uncertainty began.  Would America go to war?  Why were we attacked?  I thought everyone loved us?  Will I have to go to war?

Obviously, much of these questions were answered as I watched the news with my family later that day.  And in the following days, it became apparent that we would go to war, and a new era would begin – the War on Terror.  I must admit, I was very angry at this time.  I was angry for America.  I was angry for the family I knew that was on the plane that flew into the Pentagon.  I was angry for all of the victims.  I was young, and naïve.  It was also that time in life when one gets a little moody, a little existential if you will.  Puberty ain’t easy.  I wondered what the future would hold for me.  I hoped that I would be able to join the military and fight these terrorists.  I felt that my generation’s great calling had been revealed.

Then time dragged on, and by the time I graduated high school, America was in two wars.  Afghanistan and Iraq.  And the uncertainty continued.  Had we been right to invade these countries?  It was still so unclear.  I had always believed that America stood for the selfless principles of justice and freedom, but these wars challenged my beliefs.  At the beginning of high school, I was sure that I would join the Marines – I was very enthusiastic about it.  By the end of high school, the uncertainty of the War on Terror, our motivations in it, and whether or not we could actually win these wars, had instilled within me great doubts about America and its future.  I didn’t trust George W. Bush, and I certainly didn’t trust Dick Cheney or Donald Rumsfeld.  I was still angry, but for a different reason this time.  I was angry that these men had ruined my vision of America, I was angry that people around the world seemed to hate us even more because of their actions.  I was angry for a lot of reasons.  So I dropped the military idea, and I went to a small liberal arts college.  St. Mary’s College of Maryland – a little slice of heaven.  A place with a reputation for extremely liberal principles, in which pop-collared middle-class kids shed their preppy past, grow dreadlocks, walk to class without shoes, play frisbee golf, expand their minds (in the classroom of course), and enjoy the natural splendor of the Chesapeake region.

As for most people in undergrad, my experience there was formative.  I went in unsure of my place in the world, unsure of what I truly believed, and by the time I graduated I had built a philosophy around the principles of liberalism and cosmopolitanism.  I believed that the purpose of life was to live a good life.  That meant a number of things.  Mainly, to take an active role in promoting equality and the well-being of ones fellow man (and woman), to enjoy life as much as possible (because it’s a great gift), and to not get too worked up about everything in the process.  The last portion of my philosophy has always been the most difficult aspect for me.  This was particularly evident in the period immediately after I graduated.

I did pretty well in undergrad, and I was immature and arrogant enough to think I’d be able to just stroll up to anyone that was hiring and charm my way into a position.  The real world would obviously be a big wake up call for me.  And I spent the next year and a half bartending and substitute teaching, honestly feeling very down throughout that period.  Down about the economy and the job market.  Down about my inability to secure what I felt was a job that would challenge me and allow me to exhibit my skills and knowledge.  In essence, I was very uncertain about things.  I lived in St. Mary’s for a while, bartended, had a grand old time distracting myself down there, and realized I needed to get out before I bought a boat, moved out to some remote corner of St. Mary’s County, grew a beard down to my ankles, and lived the life of a hermit until an early death from a heart attack induced by too many 10 oz. beers and crab cake sandwiches.  So I moved home, home sweet home, with the parents.  23 and living at home with the parents.  That’s the life.  Right?  Wrong.  (No offense parents, you’re awesome, but I know it wasn’t easy for either of us).

An adult man should not live with his parents.  That’s just a fact of life.  Move out.  Do whatever you have to in order to do this.  For your sake, and theirs.  You may love them, and they may love you, but even the closest of relatives and friends do not make for the best roommates.  You have developed certain habits over college that make you a terror for normal people that live real lives and sleep during respectable hours.  Just the way it is.

Basically, that period at home was one of continued uncertainty.  How the hell was I going to get a job?  The economy was in shambles.  I must have sent out 100 applications.  All of them were for entry-level positions.  “We’re sorry, we’re looking for someone with more experience.”  Experience?!  It’s an entry-level position!  Hire me and give me some damn experience!  That was basically my position at the time.  Long-story short, I eventually caught a break with my high school, taught history there for a couple of months, coached soccer, got some real experience, felt a little less uncertain about things, and life moved on.  I eventually decided to teach English abroad, in the tiny but beautiful country of Georgia, which I have rambled on about incessantly due to the fact that I had such an incredible experience there, so I’ll leave that be.

I’m now in grad school.  I’m pursuing an MSc in International Relations.  There are few things that produce more uncertainty than being a grad student, and particularly one that studies politics.  Even more than that, politics and academia combined are like the headache you get in the morning after a long night out involving too many Vodka Red Bulls.  Basically, you got your theory and then you got your policy.  Nobody can agree on theory thus no one can agree on policy.  So basically, everything is uncertain all the damn time, and we’re all running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to figure out how to fix this broken down machine we call the world.  At the same time you’re trying to figure all this out, you’re trying to figure out what the hell you’re going to do when you graduate.  There is a world outside of the books and articles you read here, and you better not forget that, cause it’ll come at you sooner than you think.

I’ve talked a lot about myself here, I tend to do that – I apologize.  Basically, what I’m trying to get at is a sentiment I feel has been shared among a number of people my age.  I don’t mean to speak for my entire generation; I’m not sitting here claiming to be the voice of my generation – that would be arrogant, delusional, absurd, and frankly false.  I have just had a lot of conversations with folk lately surrounding these issues and it seems that a lot of us are feeling uncertain.  Uncertain about our futures – what do we want to do?  When we figure that out, how will we actually do it?  The economy is in such shambles, all around the world, is it even possible to find a legitimate job right now?  Even more than that, I think we worry about relationships.  We live in this world fueled by social media, in which actual dating rarely occurs, most communication is superficial, and divorce has become a normal and almost uneventful aspect of our culture.  There’s not a whole lot of faith in monogamy – at least that’s the way it seems.  Not to mention, America is still involved in the War on Terror, our role as a superpower seems to be in question, and our entire philosophy has been challenged within the past decade.  These issues invade our subconscious.  It’s easy to get distracted with the monotony of daily life.  But what’s happening around us affects us – it influences our perceptions, and our actions.   Even when we don’t realize it.

Now, this little rant may seem very pessimistic.  I understand that.  The word ‘uncertainty’ has a lot of negative connotations, but I don’t see it that way.  To me it signifies possibility.  The future is always uncertain, we cannot predict or control it – no matter how hard we try.  What we can do is our very best in the present.  Basically, shut-up and enjoy it.  Don’t dwell on the past, don’t dream of the future, concentrate on the present moment and you will find peace.  I didn’t say that, the Buddha did – a very enlightened dude if I do say so myself.  And it’s honestly the perfect advice for all generations.  We all deal with uncertainty.  It’s what we do with that uncertainty that defines us.

My parents were born in the 50s.  The 50s were a lot like the 90s in some ways.  They were a period of peace and prosperity, closely followed by the chaotic and disruptive 60s.  By the time my parents were in their 20s (this would be in the 70s for those of us that aren’t all that good at arithmetic), the world was in a very “uncertain” place.  The 70s saw the end of Vietnam, Watergate, Nixon’s impeachment, the oil embargo and ensuing oil crisis, the break-up of The Beatles (yes people, this was unsettling), economic recession, the Iran hostage crisis, and Disco (which was almost undoubtedly the most shocking, disturbing, and scarring aspect of the 70s).  But they got through it.  They buckled down, like everyone else, did what they were supposed to do, and came out all the better for it.

I’m thinking of a scene from the film “Blood Diamond” right now, in which Jennifer Connelly’s character is watching the news and exclaims something along the lines of, “The world is such a mess,” and Leonardo DiCaprio’s character replies quite cynically “The world is always a mess.”  In a strange way, he’s tapping into something that should be of comfort here.  The problems of our times always seem bigger than the problems of the past – but the world has always moved stubbornly forward.  This is the same for our personal lives – our problems often seem bigger than the problems of others, but all of us are fighting a secret battle.  This is not to say we should ignore our crises, issues, and problems, but rather, we should approach them with the healthy knowledge that nothing is too insurmountable for us to overcome.  Humans are an inventive and adaptive species; we have plenty of tricks up our sleeves.  We should also give ourselves some credit for great progress made in the past couple of years.  We can already be remembered as the generation that elected the first African-American President, the generation that legalized gay marriage (I know this hasn’t been fully realized yet, but we’re making progress), and perhaps the generation that sees an end to the costly and unsuccessful War on Drugs (or at least the ridiculous war on marijuana).  Iraq is over, and Afghanistan is soon to follow.  The legacy of these wars will continue to impact us, but we can begin to rebuild and move forward from what we’ve learned during these conflicts.

I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to write on this topic, but I believe that we all go through times of uncertainty.  We all go through times of crisis, times of doubt, and we all suffer from time to time.  There is nothing wrong with that.  Pain can help breed empathy, understanding, and insight.  That is not to say one should seek out pain, that’s neither here nor there, but that there is no shame admitting one has doubts in life, and there’s certainly no shame in asking questions.  Questions tend to lead to answers.  And everyone likes answers.  This is the end of my rant.  I thank you for your time, and I bid you good day.