Social norms that dominate the times and places of our youth tend to create a standard of acceptable beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors that we assume should apply to all times and all places. But social norms are rarely consistent from one place to another and are always in a state of change. To many of us, it appears that the rate of change has accelerated with the advent of the telephone, radio, television, and the internet. Each new development in our ability to communicate has expanded the universe of people with whom we can interact. That, in turn, has generated new opportunities to test and reshape social norms beyond the circle of our immediate surroundings.
It should not be surprising that this process has produced consequences often experienced as a backlash. A romanticized nostalgia for “the old ways”—better days that never really existed except in memory—helps fuel reactionary movements seeking to stop the present from mutating into an unwanted future. Because every place and every time has embraced a different set of norms as the desired standard, there can never be full agreement on a single worldview shared nationally. This makes it difficult for a nation to unite around a vision of a future that promises to be better for everyone.
Three brief, incomplete examples may help illustrate what I mean.
My formative years were shaped in the optimistic and energetic era of the 1950s. Peace and prosperity stood in sharp contrast to the hardships of the preceding two decades, and the future looked even brighter. I grew up in an all-white neighborhood of stay-at-home mothers, working fathers, and lots of children. Who we were and what we did defined the social norms that confidently produce beliefs attitudes and behaviors, norms assumed to be universal. We looked toward “the future” with eager anticipation.
A friend grew up in the turbulent 1960s and early 1970s. Vietnam, civil rights struggles, riots and demonstrations, the sexual revolution, women’s liberation, and rising divorce rates established norms deeply suspicious of inherited institutions and traditional ways. If the future was to be better, it would require new ways of thinking and new ways of organizing society, unconstrained by the old.
Teenagers in secondary education today have known nothing but a nation in which democratic values and institutions have been challenged by insurrection and the rise of authoritarian ideologies hostile to democracy itself. For many of them, the prospect of a better and more prosperous future appears reserved for the wealthy. Even the most capable cannot assume a future free from economic struggle or one that allows the full enjoyment of life’s possibilities. For many—though not all—the prevailing motto seems to be: do what you have to do to get by, and don’t expect anything better.
Perhaps I have painted too dark a picture, but several secondary-school educators have suggested that there is more than an element of truth in it.
My generation will soon be little more than a historical footnote, but I hope we can bequeath to those who follow a renewed sense of hope and optimism about what America and the American people can achieve through a commitment to liberal democracy and active participation in the community of nations.
The generation formed during the Vietnam and civil-rights era also has wisdom to offer rising leaders. They understand the importance of critically assessing institutions and challenging them on issues of justice and equity. They also learned—often painfully—about the consequences of unrestricted experimentation. Taking the time to do things well, and in the right way, is ultimately more effective than acting first and thinking later, even when intentions are good.
Those currently in secondary education may have grown up in politically dark times, but I have confidence in their resilience. I see evidence of it in the students of William & Mary who surround me at my local coffee shop. From what I hear from faculty, many students believe they need not be constrained by present conditions. They recognize that the current neo-fascist political environment is self-destructing. May their apparent optimism prove infectious for those who will soon join them in post-secondary education.
May they learn from the wisdom we have to offer—and from the greater wisdom born of our errors. They will have plenty of time to make their own mistakes, and, one hopes, a greater opportunity to set the nation on a renewed democratic course committed to the well-being of all. To do that they will have to dig into and learn from not only the few generations preceding them but the generations of centuries past who have much to offer.