To Flame and Light and Us
How did I get to be the older generation? I assume I understand the American culture that has emerged in the past couple of decades. But clearly, from the number of times my adult offspring snort at me, I do not.
I grew up with the 50's and 60's bringing their leftovers behind me, plus some of the 70's (although in the 80's we thought the 70's were a blip). Society had institutions that kept it healthy and running, right? It was good to shore those up. The 80's were bringing a return to stability and foundations...right? Nope, not that either.
These 2021 young adults grew up with the 90's and aughts bringing their leftovers behind them. The 80's came to them as a long-ago decade of divorce and disintegration, of the desperate or oblivious struggles of the European-born, patriarchal structures trying to hold on. Helicopter parents, 9/11, the rise of the opioid crisis and open mental health conversations, the Rust Belt - and on to climate catastrophe, more shaking of institutions (banks, industries, police), and a relieved discarding of majority-imposed gender norms.
I will not become one of the old people who disparage the young and their "empty" habits. The institutions may be disregarded, but we crave meaning, young or old: meaning must be there. I see my kids choosing it and creating it.
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| on the wall at Evans Brothers Coffee, Sandpoint, Idaho |
One of my 2022 goals is to find a way to gain an eagle's view of this culture I still swim in, be able to name as many of its parts as possible, push to understand how they connect and interact, and learn a few of them well. This long-term quest is one I will continue to work on - and the new realities show up immediately in holiday family gatherings.
It's as simple as music. Some of us, whatever our age, center on Christmas and feel its richness in older Christmas music - choral, hymn-based, Latin, French, German. We lean into traditions Northern European in origin, also thoroughly enjoying expression of this story from around the world. Some of us, whatever our age, have set aside the Christmas story and embrace a religion-less passion for family, eggnog and golden glow, other winter holiday traditions, gathering community, the choice to hope and be light.
It's as complex as each of us.
I choose to believe and live toward the idea that our little family can figure this out. And that it's still possible for our larger families, our towns and cities and states, our United States to figure this out.
"These United States" has a different definition than even 5 years ago: non-Caucasians will be the majority in just over 20 years, white men's life experience can be seen as irrelevant because of connection to patriarchy and systemic power structures, and we identify by political passion, gender or lack of gender definition, social media categories, and Reddit interests, far more than being from the same geographic community.
I have hope in these younger humans I know, and admiration for their thinking and actions. Here's to the heart and work they are putting into this hard-to-define American culture becoming stronger by expansion (not exclusion), healthier by caring (not hating), and more peaceful by truly seeing one another (not diminishing each other).
In the lesser-known words of Emma Lazarus:
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp." The "homeless, tempest-tossed" have come, still come, and they are building something new.
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| Wellspent Brewing Company, St. Louis, Missouri |
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