Everybody Sing Along!

"Who broke my window?"
"Telling the truth isn't gonna be easy . . ."
"Glass everywhere you look! Who broke my window?"
"Why is my stomach all nervous and queasy?"
"Aha, some kid's ball! Who could the little culprit be? Who threw this ball, did someone see?"
"He's so mad, I'm really scared!"
"Ah, kids these days, they don't care!"

So were the Mormons right? When they made that fine, melodramatic commercial twenty years ago (Starring a young ingenue named Alfonso Ribeira, who would go on to fame and fortune as the straight man for the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air) was it an accurate portrayal? Kids today just don't care? Perhaps that is the reason for our failing education system, for the endemic apathy and subsequent ignorance that will very likely bring this nation to a collapse of intellectual and moral structure of Malthusian proportions. All but a few of our minds -- the finest, the strongest -- are going to sicken and die, because kids these days? They don't care.

Perhaps that is not the message. Perhaps it is the older man in the piece who strikes the villainous pose -- though if so, they should have given him bushy black eyebrows and a twisty mustache. Perhaps it is his immediate assumptions, that a kid did it, that a kid threw the ball through his window, and that the kids today don't care, when in fact, they care very much. Perhaps the only reason I think kids today are lazy, incompetent, ignoble, and generally devoid of virtue is because I am growing older, and my eyes simply aren't what they used to be. It is true that I do not get to see young people in their best light; for me, they are always either falling asleep in class or messing around outside of it, skipping and slacking and so on, so on. Maybe it is my fault, that the horrors of today's youth in my eyes are naught but a self-fulfilling prophecy: I expect horrors, and so I see horrors. And perhaps I am taking the problems too seriously: perhaps it is something that is a minor concern, despite its large element of aggravation. Maybe the future isn't so bad; a broken window is not, after all, a five-alarm fire or a 7.1 on the Richter scale.

Or perhaps (though I think this is reading a bit much into the moralistic advertising of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints on Saturday morning TV) the true issue is not something lacking in either the boy or the man, but in the relationship between them. Perhaps it is the man's immediate accusations and rage that drive the boy to fear him, and out of fear, the boy cowers away from the older generation. Perhaps that fear turns to anger at the injustice of the unfounded assumption of both youth and intent on the part of the window-breaker, and the boy will turn sullen and mistrustful, resenting that his elders immediately assume the worst about him. Perhaps that is the self-fulfilling prophecy: perhaps the angry boy decides to give the mistrustful adults exactly what they expect, and becomes violent, destructive, irresponsible, and a liar. Because why shouldn't he? If the world has already decided you are those things, why not just go ahead and be those things? You're already paying the price, so you might as well have the petty and barbaric fun that price has bought.

Which of these is right? Because honestly, I really want to know. I want to know who broke my window: why am I forced to teach basic grammar, paragraph structure, spelling, at my level? Why am I forced to be a babysitter? Why don't students have basic respect for me and my role? Why is today's society, and even worse, tomorrow's society, so bent under the weight of corporate oppression? Why is Wal-Mart still successful? Why are we allowing the trade routes to China to remain open? Why is the military still in Iraq, and why is the country slipping, falling, tumbling into a recession? Why are the citizens of this country still telling themselves that global warming isn't real ("Sheeit, Jethro, it's cold outside right now, and here it is in May -- naw, wait, it's April, innit. Thur hain't no warming on mah globe, hee-yuck hyuck.") and all we need to do is throw out the illegal immigrants and drill for oil in Alaska, and all of our problems will be solved?

Why, in the simplest possible terms, are we so fucking stupid?

The message of the Mormons (And believe me, I see the irony of an atheist turning to the Mormons for inspiration. Bertrand Russell is -- well, not spinning in his grave, because who the hell am I? But he's twitchin'!) is, I think, a combination of all three possibilities. The problems I see in today's youth are partly caused by my own colored perceptions: after all, my most basic measure of intelligence is reading, both ability in and enjoyment of. Just because my students don't read does not, by any real standard, show a lack of intelligence. Some of my kids can build a computer from spare parts, design and code a new video game, and then build a website to promote it, all without leaving their rooms; others can do the equivalent with a Hemi. But since I look for specific things, when I don't see those certain attributes, I am blinded by my disappointment and so I do not see the forest for the trees. But along with that blindness of mine, there is one reason and one reason only that, in addition to their remarkable computer skills and mechanical skills and whatever other skills, they do not also read books: they are lazy and stupid. And they really are. The same labels applied to my own generation, and certainly to myself, so this should perhaps be less judgmental coming from me; but however hypocritical it may be (and I don't think it is, though I probably need to do a whole column on the difference between hypocrisy and experiential wisdom) I'm still going to say it: they are lazy and stupid, and that's why they don't read. And that is contributing to the problem. Lastly, of course, there is the flawed and malignant interaction between bitter old men like me and sullen and arrogant youth like them: I have already decided they are lazy and stupid, so they see no point in trying to prove me wrong when there's no guarantee that I will ever acknowledge their bright inner light, so they might as well stay lazy and stupid. But that is a lazy and stupid way to think, because self-improvement is a valuable and valid ambition whether or not it leads to external recognition, and so I am reaffirmed in my judgment -- which simply reinforces their determination not to listen to me, because clearly I am just a misanthropic jerk, and the ugliness of my prejudice means that I must be wrong. This just convinces them that they are doing the right thing by ignoring me, and so all of my well-meaning advice falls on deaf ears -- which makes me hate them all the more. And round and round the mulberry bush, the weasel chases the monkey chasing the weasel.

How do we solve this? Well, for starters, let's go with the obvious: three problems require three solutions, one would suppose. For myself, for my blindness, I need (and all bitter angry old adults need) to do what my students always demand of me, as annoying as it is that they demand it. Whenever I give voice to my bile, and tell my students something along the lines of, "All of you are ignorant buffoons who have no clue what's really important in life," I get at least one kid who says, "I'm not ignorant." They insist that I acknowledge those exceptions to my sweeping generalities: when I say, "None of you are doing the work!" I have to say, "Well, except John. And Mary." (Strike that: her name is most likely Chaiylleigheeye and his is most likely Butcher [Girls today are named with horribly misspelled versions of perfectly nice names like Haley and Brittany; boys get medieval job names, Cooper and Tanner and Carter. I hate explaining jokes.].) And that should be my duty, and a duty for all of us: whenever you get into a nice, fat, satisfying tirade, like taking a bite out a juicy hamburger, pause for a moment and spit out the exceptions to your ire. Look at them honestly: for every rotten little bastard out there, there's a kid that is actually a good person, smart, hard-working, honest. Well, not one good for every bad; every ten. Twenty, tops. But at any rate, that's our part: don't assume that all kids are idiots, and look kindly on those who aren't; they have a tough time of it, being a good person in a sea of mediocrity. It's hard and lonely work -- so we should make sure it isn't thankless, too.

And for the kids, your job is: be one of those good people. Don't be such a worthless dink. Don't be lazy. Don't be sullen. Don't lie, don't cheat, don't steal: do what's right, and if you don't know what's right, find out. Ask. Think. We'll give you the time you need to figure it out -- but you need to figure it out.

Lastly, for all of us: try to get along. Not with everyone, of course, because some people just suck -- but find the ones you can get along with, and make the effort. Make your own voice heard, and emphasize the voices of others around you, by singing together. Or if you can't sing, or have nothing to say, at least: listen. There's more to it. But there's a start, in honesty and communication and an open mind.

Let's hear it for the Mormons.


"Mr. Robertson, Mr. Robertson -- "
"What a horrible mess!"
"I broke your window with my ball -- "
"YOU?!?"
"--And I've come to confess."
"You knew I'd be angry!"
"Yes!"
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Yes!"
"You'll have to pay for this mess you made! But -- I'm proud of you, child, for you have displayed honor: the stuff from which heroes are made."
"I told the truth!"
"He told the truth!"