When I was a freshman, my best friends and I spent our time talking, debating and questioning the life and system we were in. Back then, summer jobs were nothing more than ways to fill our pockets with cash begging to be carelessly spent away at the Jersey shore on overpriced pizzas and shamelessly fixed boardwalk games. Back then, life was good, love was easy and we were going to save the world one day.
Now, we still talk, debate and question. The only difference is that instead of pointless philosophical arguments, we talk about what major-related classes we're taking or whether it's graduate school after college or straight to 40-hour weeks. Instead of striving to change the system, we've slowly begun to accept our roles.
While I still see things in this world that I wish I could change, I've learned along the way that change is a lot easier said than done. That's why Barack Obama is so alluring for our generation. Even though he never quite explains how he intends on doing it, by simply repeating that together "he" and "you" and "I" will change the world, he has worked wonders on our hearts and minds. By promising us a chance to take a part in changing the world, however small a role that may be, Obama has seduced us into believing. It's appealing, but his message is cruel, as it exploits our hope for something different, something new, something better.
Our generation has a collective craving to be of some type of influence. We're dying to be seen, noticed and different. After all, who wants to be part of something plain and normal? Who wants to go unnoticed? This desire is a result of our unwillingness - of our fear - to settle for anything in life. However, our obsession with pop culture has us slowly selling out as "Guitar Hero" and "American Idol" has led us to believe that superstardom is possible for the most average of Joes. We barely even have standards anymore; forget ratings and audience size, we'll jump at any chance to make out and put out for the latest C-list has-been social network sensation, begging for our 15 minutes. Our only comfort is that if all else fails, at least we'll always have YouTube.
We're even selling out our compassion: Caring for a cause has become akin to making a fashion statement. I support raising awareness for the Darfur genocide or global warming, but not if you just want to be the first kid on the block to promote that cool, previously unknown cause that's on some T-shirt your favorite TV celebrity was sporting. If you're not genuine, don't bother. You'll be saving yourself a lot of time along with avoiding the embarrassment of saying Darfur's a region in South America when everyone knows it's really a city in South Dakota.
This is the story of our generation: Our greatest beacon of hope is a politician peddling a message with little substance; our causes have become commercialized and marketed under the guise of raising money and awareness, when in reality our activists and corporations care more about their image and making a quick buck rather than some mutilated and starving kid in Darfur. Our desire for change has fallen hopelessly and helplessly to pop culture and its false promise.
This semester, I was blessed to have met someone who changed my life. She reminded me that the burden of changing the world is too much for any one person to bear. By simply being a part of my life, she was able to effect within me a new understanding and hope for this world. She represents a more realistic answer to achieving change: If each one of us can succeed in having a profound impact on another person, perhaps our dream of change is within reach after all. Perhaps we really aren't that hopeless and helpless.
Allen Xu Junior, Kogod School of Business
