My Generation Sucks

Everyday when I walk by a picture poised in the center of the mantel, over a fireplace that is never lit, and I hear it speak to me. Everyday I hear it calling and I cannot, dare not, answer. Everyday I wish to live up to the face I see looking back and everyday I fail. He stands in the snow, pride on his shoulders and courage radiating from somewhere deep inside his soul. He is pure energy pushing off of the canvas in every direction. Fighting the 80 years of still cellulose to build a better life for me and still I do nothing. I wish to prove myself to history, to my country, to my parents and most of all to my Grandfather. But I cannot. Not because for lack of want – but for lack of cause. And for this, everyday, I fail him.

Each generation has fought out this countries evolution through pain, love, hate, anger, joy and loss. They have put society’s human advancement at the forefront of their lives, each playing their given role and have made this country and world a better place. Simply look at the preceding hundred years leading up to my birth: WWI, Roaring Twenties, Great Depression/New Deal, WWII, Cold War, Civil Rights, Watergate and Vietnam.

And since then? 9-11. For a brief moment this single horrible event brought the country once again under the banner of solidarity for the greater good. Unfortunately, it was quickly squandered by an administration who exploited our ability to work in unison for their own greedy agenda. Some of the dumber in our society bought it, a few still do. I believe that our moment, our one chance, my chance, to make a difference was carelessly wasted and I/We will may never get another.

Now I would never wish for another Vietnam or to remove any freedoms from any class of people. But what I long for, what my generation so desperately needs is to feel is meaning. Beyond the time where your age is counted in months there is no great feeling of accomplishment in small steps. There is no reward for slight advances in abilities – these are commonplace, boring and expected. Surely, any culture left in peace and relative prosperity will grow. Progression has never been a cause for joy. Evolution is merely habitual.

Tonight, as I do every night, I will walk back again past him and he will beam at me and ask what I’ve done. Again I will tell him nothing. Again I will fail him and again I, my generation, will fail to find significance.