A student’s life is stressful and in some ways a little humiliating.
Student (relative) poverty is excellent training for future consumers. The feelings of limitation, deprivation, and envy experienced during a four year university degree becomes the wellspring of dissatisfaction that will drive the consumer lust (and therefore, the career ambitions) of products of the middle class at least until they have their mid-life crisis and start wondering what all the fuss was about. By then, they will have completely forgotten what college life was really like, and instead will idolize that time of their lives as a time of no stress and no obligations and good friends and going to the bars or to house parties.
And what happens then? Why, they send their own kids to college, and the cycle begins anew.
But the truth is, it is impossible to get young people to understand how good they have it and how glad they should be not to have the problems of an adult yet. Young people are too busy dealing with the problems of young people to entertain the thought that they should be glad to have problems they can’t even relate to yet.
There is simply no way to transmit your nostalgia to the young. And if there was, you wouldn’t want to, because it would cripple them. When you are older, you are free to think the best times are in the past. But if young people thought that way, they would give up before they even begin. Why bother even trying when the best time to be alive happened before they were even born?
That’s why I distrust nostalgia, perhaps irrationally. But I can’t trust anything that makes people think thing were better than they actually were, and that encourages people to live their life looking backwards instead of embracing the here and now and steering themselves into a future that could be just as good as their imagined golden age if only they would let it.
But no…. they would rather be miserable in the present than let go of their imaginary sunshine paradise of a past that will never return. After all, if they admitted that the future could be as good as the past, then they would have to admit that they have wasted a lot of time revering the past. And after all, their nostalgia has given them so much comfort that it would feel like a betrayal to accept that anything could ever compete with it.
So people ignore the wonders of today, forget all the problems they had way back then or even if they were happy at the time or not, deny their own subjectivity, and go on believing that the time when they were innocent was actually a more innocent time.
Sorry, but no. All evidence points to life on Earth for humans getting better all the time. Maybe you were happier back then, but probably not. Even if you were, that had nothing to do with the nature of the world and everything to do with your ignorance of it.
Right now, in my own student life, I am a little frustrated. The amount of homework I am getting is minimal and none of it involves real writing. I am not sure what I expected of VFS, but it was not this. They keep telling us things will get far tougher later on, and I believe them. I only have to look at the lesson plan to know that.
But right now, it’s too much like Kwantlen. Listening to lectures passively. Doing very basic assignments. Wishing I was doing things. Wondering how much of this bullshit I can tolerate.
This week it will change, at least in theory. We begin workshopping in our workshop groups, and I am excited and nervous. Excited because it sounds like a lot more fun than lectures, and nervous because this will be group work. And not just group work, but creative group work, and I have never experienced anything like that before.
My creativity has always been my own thing. Something where I didn’t have to share, compromise, negotiate, count on others, or win. It was my personal playground, and I liked it that way.
Now I have to let all the other kiddies in my class play, and I will be playing in their playgrounds too, where everything will seem weird and wrong and crazy. I am in no way prepared for this. How could I be? I have been a self-sealed social isolate for such a long time. And like I always say, things grow strange in the dark.
So the next week is probably going to be quite the learning experience. I know I will have the urge to dominate my workshop group, and what the hell, it might even work. I have the skills to lead. I can keep things organized and running smoothly. I can convince people that I am smart and can make them go. And I am reasonably wise.
And honestly, I might be a lot more more comfortable that way. As much as I dislike being superior, in many ways, being in charge suits me. I can run things as I please, and thus use the megalomaniac’s way of coping with the Other : make it more like the Self. I can make sure things are done the “right” way. I don’t have to fight to be heard or struggle for position.
And I know that when I am king, I am a good king. I want everything to go well for everybody, and I want our collective enterprise to succeed. My desire for power is not inherent, but a result of a number of factors that makes me reluctantly accept that I need to stop trying to fight the tide and let myself become a leader.
But who knows. Perhaps my workshop group with have someone with stronger leadership skills than I, and they will be able to organize and coordinate better than I could, and I will be happy that way.
But if I feel like I can do better….
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.
Don’t be too hard on nostalgia. Sometimes, during the dark times, it’s all we have.
As you know, I did not find college to be an idyllic time. That would be the last two-thirds of grade twelve. Everything was great. I had friends, I had some freedom to go out with my friends, I was creatively fulfilled, and I woke up every day happy to be alive. Then it all got ripped out from under me.
When I was 13 I had to take these classes every Wednesday night to get ready for confirmation, which is a Catholic rite of passage. I guess it’s like a bar mitzvah in terms of the time it marks, but it’s not a party with food and entertainers and gifts. You stand in a church and a bishop says a bunch of stuff to you, and there’s supposed to be a quiz where the bishop asks you things and your answers prove that you’ve prepared for this moment and you understand what it means to be a Catholic at this point in life. Thankfully, when our turn came, we didn’t get the quiz. That’s good because what our teachers tried to teach us in preparation for the quiz was totally confusing and not one of us would have been able to answer correctly.
Then the bishop taps you on the shoulder with his shepherd’s staff, like you’re being knighted. Someone gives you a candle which you take home and keep as a souvenir.
Anyway, when we were taking these classes, they made us watch a movie where two 17-year-olds are in the last year of school and one of them—the male—says that this is their last year of freedom and they should have as much fun as possible. He’s supposed to be the one who’s wrong. The female thinks that it’s time to get serious and start being more religious. I think eventually the male is horsing around in the school hallway and falls over a railing to his death. That’s what you get for not choosing Catholicism! But I thought he was right.
And now I know he was right. It’ll never be as good as it was in grade twelve.
I also have to bite my tongue on the whole “It Gets Better” campaign. Part of me wants to warn potentially-suicidial gay children that it never gets better—there’ll always be bullies. Plus life gets harder. But I don’t want them to die so I don’t say that!
Nostalgic or not, I’m very rational about historical progress. I know in which ways things are better now. When I fantasize about turning back time to my own personal golden age, I always make it clear that it’s just for me, and it’s just aesthetics. I would never cast a spell that would make the whole world stop changing in 1986. For example, think of all the progress in medical technology that would be lost.
Ideally, I would get some sort of virtual reality overlay that would make the world look like 1986, including hair, fashion, comics, animation, fonts, computers, cars, buildings, etc., while allowing technological and social progress to still happen. It would probably have a toggle switch so I could check on what things actually look like occasionally. They might look good once in a while and I would hate to miss it.
I mentioned in the car my theory about innocence privilege.
Well it does get better. But it never becomes perfect. To a kid pondering suicide in a horrible household that would never accept him in a small minded small town who truly feels like they are too deeply broken to live…. it does get better, if they can stay alive long enough to get the fuck out of there.