Protesters at an Occupy Wall Street rally. Photo from web.
Motivation to properly and effectively engage in our communities is hard to come by for many of us at Conn. In our defense, we are perhaps forced or bred into the apathy our elders so often bestow upon our generation.
As adolescents, we are told to sit in rows, memorize facts, stretch ourselves too thin in order to appeal to colleges and avoid conflict or controversy because of our obession with political correctness–all while the Internet exposes us to a world so raw, real and fast-paced, yet so beyond our reach and comprehension. Yet we are confined to the American Middle Class set design and screenplay. Everyone is expected not only to follow the same path, but to do so at the same pace.
Upon arrival at Conn, I was surprised to be awoken from such disillusionment. The social fabric screamed “I-don’t-give-a-shit-and-neither-should-you” via the disrespectful hook-up culture, lack of constituency involvement in student government and affairs and low attendance at brilliant lectures and student-run events. Fewer students than I expected seemed invested in their peers and professors, despite both being so rich in personality and personal history.
College helps us ignore the disgusting and ugly country and countrymen we must somehow join and be proud of come graduation day. But as the end of my first fall semester is in sight, I know that apathy does not heal, but only numbs. To break free from apathy is to break free from a masturbatory, fantastical and blinding addiction.
I sound like a broken record for those who know me, but the Occupy movement is just what I need to quit, cold turkey. Until this community can agree that our values regarding social justice issues relating but not restricted to financial equity and accountability are worth reevaluating, I will chatter away about some Jon Stewart segment and post OWS videos to Facebook and write obnoxious, redundant articles for the Voice, and I’ll do it repeatedly. I hope that passion is not equated with terms like, “hipster,” “hippie,” or “pretentious.” And if it does, we should definitely question why.
My hopes for this movement are entirely selfish. I want to feel the pride United States citizens were meant to back in the good ole days. I want to feel the urge to wave my flag and light fireworks and return to the suburbs with some warmth. I want to truly feel how lucky I am, instead of just reasserting that I know that I am lucky. I want to be able to make a statement: I love, I identify with my American past, present and future. After all, as I travel through life, meeting new people and peoples, my American identity is what will come to define me, and I need to learn how to own that.
I don’t think it’s so bad that this movement will be a lengthy one. I don’t think it needs a specific goal or end point as of right now (although I do think more organization and perhaps some official leaders who can discuss demands more in-detail would be incredibly beneficial): there is an excess of social, cultural, economic and political injustices that all seem to flow into one another; this diversity of issues requires a diverse group of people to tackle those issues, and truly diverse discussion takes quite a long time to facilitate. This is okay! If we want to do this right, the future, the history books, even the “greater good” can wait for us. These issues are at least thirty years in the making and there are people of all shapes and sizes with lifetimes behind them who have valuable voices. Regardless, things are not going to get better anytime soon anyway, so why rush?
The all-powerful, all-nuclear, Obamaland, United States of America is more of a corporate empire focused on military, cultural and consumerist imperialism than a nation serving its own constituency. But I need to localize this movement to my own personal history, to my suburban backdrop, for it to make sense to me, and I don’t think I’m alone in that need. The values that I struggled to balance living in Newton, Massachusetts stand for values all of us need to redefine, or else our government – honest politicians and officials, dishonest corporation whores, and those in between – will remain stagnant in the constant filibuster that has replaced real conversation and interaction.
Embracing this movement helps me embrace even the grittiest and darkest moments of my youth, the youth I am still blindly staggering through. The local and global activity I partake in exposes me to unavoidable differences and diversity that color my world by forcing me to broaden my mind to new ideas and points of view. Without OWS and OWS-inspired communities or conversations, I would not have such a vivid life, so I am in solidarity with the movement. This solidarity provides me with a group of people with which I can profoundly identify, regardless of age, ethnicity, political beliefs, class, education or any other difference that society usually deems too separate to be equal. As I identify with them, I can slowly identify myself.
If a leftist movement— that is, a movement based on inclusion, community participation and horizontality— can help me break the boredom and non-sustainability of collegiate apathy, then I know it can jolt anyone into action. And to all who are presently determined to maintain their current standard-of-thinking, I encourage you to relax and give it a go because it’s humbling, it’s beautiful, it’s human, it’s “American” and it’s about time. •
