I was born in 1961, one of the final baby boomers, in New Rochelle, NY, a classic suburb memorialized in The Dick Van Dyke Show. When I was in 5th grade, we moved to Bedford Village, an idyllic hamlet in Upper Westchester County, with a village green and beautiful buildings from the Revolutionary period, one of which was a backdrop for the opening of Peyton Place. For the most part, I enjoyed was a very easy, non-traumatic childhood, full of sports and play and adventures. It was, however, set within the context of a tumultuous historical period, one that shaped me in many ways. Now, at 55, I feel as if I'm reliving parts of that childhood vicariously, wondering about our children's sense of what's happening in our nation.
Growing up in the 1960s and early 70s, I witnessed the great division in the United States, whether about the war or civil rights or any other issue. We lived right across the street from a large high school, so I saw a daily parade of flower children. One day someone torched the school in an act of protest. Suddenly the demonstrations and riots that juxtaposed the battle scenes and body counts presented by Walter Cronkite seemed more real. My grandfather, whom I adored, groused about the "yo-yos" as my hair grew longer, my clothes wilder. Even at that age I embraced the movement, regularly flashing the peace sign at people. While I didn't understand all the issues, I knew what I felt and believed, as passionately as I loved the Grateful Dead (and still do). I recall cheering in front of the television when Nixon resigned. (I imagined it being that way when LBJ announced he was not running for re-election, but that was a bit before my social-political consciousness awakened.) To my friends and me, he represented everything wrong with the system. Nixon made us believe all politicians were, despite his claim, crooks, just as police were pigs and soldiers baby-killers.
Now, with experience and maturity, while I still lean heavily towards the left, I see things with more tones of nuances and paint with a much finer brush. For instance, I value and respect police and military, knowing there are the good and the bad there as in any enterprise. I recognize and even revel in the complexities of our lives, particularly within a democracy which continues to be an ongoing experiment not just in government but also in the vicissitudes of human nature. But my gaining that perspective took a long, long time. Actually, the process continues.
I'm very grateful that I grew up during a time that essentially forced awareness on me. In fact, as an educator and parent, I've worried about how for so long our society has been largely apolitical, perhaps even apathetic. I believe in an education that promotes engagement with the world, leading to active and contributing citizens, all of us committed to a social compact for our individual and collective betterment. We saw some of that start to change during the first Obama campaign, as young people flocked to that movement driven by hope. Whatever one may believe politically, I think their involvement is a positive. Better an active citizenry than a passive one.
Now, once again circumstances demand our attention. I worry about what our young people are seeing, thinking, feeling, learning. What is their sense of our nation and its government as they watch the extreme political jockeying that seems absent of basic morality? Their assessment of human respect when refugees become denigrated in the same way during the Vietnam War some called all Asians "gooks" because they all were the enemy? Who is showing them how to act selflessly and ethically and courageously? I could pose many similar questions. All of them add up to one larger, more vexing one: What are the long-term effects of what young people are experiencing right now? Don't make the mistake of thinking all this isn't touching the, either directly or indirectly.
As it does, I pray what influences them more than anything are those scenes most evocative of my youth--those of people gathering in peaceful, optimistic protest. I like to think of it as communal affirmation of principles. It's rooted in the belief that each of us is responsible to some degree for whether or not we honor our values and potential as a nation. It's a hope which became a determination symbolized by another enduring moment from my childhood--putting humans on the moon, a moment that confirmed with the right spirit we can achieve what had been seen as unachievable and perhaps even miraculous.