Youth of the Nation

It seems like each generation is more concerned for the following one than the last. Interestingly, I hear this from my students all the time..."I worry about our future." That very notion calms me. If there were adults worried about the influences of Elvis, the Ramones ("hey, ho, let's go!"), Nirvana, and Jay-Z, it seems that, no matter the passage of time, those same worries will continue. It's a rite of passage, actually. 

And for each moment - some painfully long - that I spend with today's youth, I'm reassured about the direction of our future. Why? As it turns out, they're absolutely amazing.

I have one section of Honors English 11 students this year, a first-time blessing I hope to replicate in the future. These kids are not *quite* adults (they're 16-17 years old), but they're definitely not children, either. And I love them. Why? TODAY ALONE -- again, the span of one 33-minute class period-- I had students:

- complain that a peer ruined the end to Of Mice and Men

- state that Of Mice and Men has reinforced his faith in academic reading

- express that society is flawed but worth fixing 

- quote textual support to prove a character is "kind of a ho" (seriously, a direct quote, which I kind of love!!! Lol)

- The kids were stuck on their hatred of Curley's wife, and they expressed it SO WELL! Because, well, she's AWFUL!!!

- explain why self-defense is more important than society's consequences 

And yes, 

- get misty-eyed over the end of Steinbeck's amazing work while

- discussing the literary and symbolic significance 

At 16-17 years old, I just wanted to know where I'd be getting my next burger for lunch. Kids today? They're pondering the existential crises we all face. 

These kids read great literature, evaluate its significance, and apply it to today's world...all while presuming that they're doing nothing more than completing an assignment. Yet, they think and feel and articulate their ideas so clearly that I am constantly reminded of their unassuming brilliance.

The future generations don't see the tremendous power they have, and they underestimate their own influence. So it turns out that their own cynicism is what drives them to excellence: they fear failure and disappointing their loved ones.

I see my students bubbling over with empathy and understanding and humanity: so how can I do anything less than trust that, even in the darkest hours, that the future relies on the overwhelming heart of the next generation?

P.S. There are some days when I. Really. Love. My. Job.