Ezra and Brian Beutler have already weighed in on Tom Friedman's column today, in which he takes my generation to task for being more into Facebook than we are traditional forms of activism:
[…] I've been calling them “Generation Q” -- the Quiet Americans, in the best sense of that term, quietly pursuing their idealism, at home and abroad.
But Generation Q may be too quiet, too online, for its own good, and for the country's own good. When I think of the huge budget deficit, Social Security deficit and ecological deficit that our generation is leaving this generation, if they are not spitting mad, well, then they're just not paying attention. And we'll just keep piling it on them.
There's also this doozy of a line:
One of the things I feared most after 9/11 -- that my daughters would not be able to travel the world with the same carefree attitude my wife and I did at their age -- has not come to pass.
Funny. See, the thing I worried about most after 9/11 was that my country would start reckless, irresponsible wars around the world that would make it more dangerous for humanity in general and more hostile to Americans specifically. That was why I attended every major protest in New York and D.C. during the run-up to the Iraq war, which was during my freshman year of college. Five years ago, those protests were filled with average college students stepping up to say that this war was a bad idea. I stopped by a protest here in D.C. a few weeks ago, and all that was left of the movement was a few of the old peacenik and socialist types, the true believers that would be there no matter what. Some in my generation tuned out; others have been searching desperately for more effective ways to tune in.
We're not Generation Quiet, as Friedman calls us. We're Generation Silenced. Bush has been in office since before I was old enough to vote, and until last fall, I had not a single branch of the federal government where I felt like the appeals of my generation of activists would be heard. So he's right -- we have turned to other ways of changing the world. Teaching, building homes in Louisiana, volunteering in Thailand, making documentaries, creating upstart green businesses, writing for non-profit lefty political magazines -- these have been the only way for any of us to be "heard."
There are a whole lot of reasons for this. As Brian points out, part of the reason is that the consequences of activism are much higher, or at least they seem a lot higher, today. As Ezra notes, protesters have been ignored, mocked, reviled, or caricatured in the mainstream press. But there are other reasons. For one, the entire playing field has changed since the 1960s glory days that Friedman seems to want to revive. Power is more concentrated, removed from our everyday lives, and harder to pin down. Second, we are a generation of insecure affluence, at once more comfortable in our daily lives and less able to be optimistic about both our personal and national future. And third, we are a generation that has grown up in a culture of fear -- even when we abhor our nation's actions abroad, we're still fearful of what inaction could mean for our country. And on a personal level, we fear spending our time on dismantling the system will keep us from getting good enough grades or getting into the best law school, or that a rap sheet for chaining yourself to the doors of the nearest Army recruiting station will follow us when we run for office one day.
Sure, I'm also inclined to agree that my generation is too complacent, and a certain sector of it too apathetic, to get out in the streets. I'd like to see more visible, public action, and more audible outrage from my peers. And I'd like to be doing more than arm-chair commentating on the subject myself. But I don't need Tom Friedman's concern trolling about my entire generation to realize that, and it's exactly his brand of derision and condescension that silenced us.
--Kate Sheppard
