The Observer, October 12, 2007
Volume XL, Issue 7
A Wandering Fool: Don't accept world as 'comfortable'
Watching the building hoopla for the 2008 election, I began to fondly remember the days when students were collectively called "radicals." Youth is constant revolution. The only difference between youth and age is how much you accept the world around you.
Youth questions everything. The early years of life are years of socialization, of learning the rules of the world. Your parents won't let you watch The Simpsons. Your teacher won't let you talk with your friend while she's talking. Your principal won't let you hit the bully that's been teasing you for the last month. The police won't let you play street hockey. The government won't let your parents buy a new car because the property taxes have to be paid. Rules dictate what you can and cannot do.
All these imposed rules make youth feel that life isn't fair or even under their own control. Parents don't care; they just want to make you into a good little boy or girl, when you feel like anything but. No one in government listens to anyone under the age of 30, and principals are even harder to reason with. Where does youth fit into this world? Who cares about children beside the people who want to keep them safe behind more rules? I didn't want more rules; I wanted to know about the world of the adults, where there weren't any rules at all. All Mom would do was smile and tell me that I'd know about it when I was older. Infuriating, but futile.
Being the smart little buggers we were, we'd carve out comfortable niches for ourselves and sink into them, usually among good friends. Those of us that couldn't find good friends planned our revolution. There must be a better way, and we can find it. We are the future! Our parents have been saying that to us for ages, and mumbling it among themselves for even longer. Soon, we'll be ruling the world!
Time passes.
The spirit of youth is tempered by failure. No matter how loud you yell, there's still no one that pays attention. The few that do pay attention explain slowly and patiently that society was not built by fools. Your parents were scared you'd become Bart Simpson. Your teacher couldn't stand all the giggling. Your principal can't let anyone hit anyone. The police are paid to be bastards, and the property taxes pay for the roads that the car would have passed over. Youth comes to acknowledge that there are reasons for the world to be the way it is; the world might even be in good hands. Blasphemous, but possible.
Time passes. The world becomes comfortable. You set more rules for yourself than the world ever did. Revolution becomes change. Change becomes stability. Stability becomes peace. Next thing you know, you're telling those kids to get off your lawn.
The world may well be in good hands. I don't know, since I'm still not clear on the details of how it works, but I refuse to pretend that this world is comfortable. Life is tough all over. This is not a reason to stop complaining. This is a reason to never stop complaining. America seems to be showing its age of late. Practical politics is a dead idea in the face of the unity of the Grand Old Party and Democratic ideals. It doesn't matter if Hillary or Rudy wins in '08; I don't think anything big will change in this country. I can't bring myself to believe it. Perhaps what we need is some new blood.
Wesley Brue is a senior English and theater major.
