Thank goodness for our children. And theirs.
I like to think of myself as appropriately concerned about the world around me. I’m appalled–actually, reasonably appalled—at greed, violence, injustice; sin, in all its forms, especially in the ways it permeates our institutions, our laws, even our religious life. I’ve even marched in the streets (please; hold your applause) for justice in our city. ‘Cause I’m concerned.
Meanwhile, I see our children’s passion for some things I’m concerned about (and a few more). And I see their children, though not old enough to vote—not too young for much longer, I should add—already becoming activists.
Of course, they’re making unreasonable demands. They actually want the inevitable (mass killings, environmental degradation, poverty, White supremacy, money replacing voting as the core of democracy, etc.) to not be inevitable any more.
But why do we let kids make us uncomfortable?
Really, kids, take it from me out here in the real world…your idealism is quaint, but cynicism equals reason these days.
Besides: we’re tired. We tried the peace & love thing at Woodstock when we were your age, and look where it got us. The President and leaders of Congress, the banks, industry, media, churches? Pretty much all from our generation. We put them there, by our voting (or not voting), our demands (or our indifference). Come to think about it, they look a lot like me.
But these kids might be different. Despite our attempts to distract them and deflect their moral clarity, they’re making demands and they mean business. And I suspect that most of them aren’t going away.
Thank goodness for these kids. There’s hope, even if we don’t live to see it. Maybe there’s hope precisely because we won’t live to get in their way. Thank goodness.
No, thank God, who may already be passing the torch to them.
What Our Kids Are Up To. I hope.
