Starting Out
All the graduation ceremonies came and went and I didn’t go to any of them. Mostly because I was afraid I’d speak my mind and make everyone think I’m crazy – or worse, pessimistic. During those mind-numbing staff and guest speeches there are times when I just want to stand up and ask, “Do you really believe young people listen to any of this gobbledygook?” All that bright futures ripe for the taking nonsense, or the blather that gets repeated about hard work, determination, and high expectations are what it takes to get through life. New graduates may be young but they weren’t born yesterday. They know challenges exist and are likely different from anything experienced by other generations. What they want are the skills necessary to cope.
Building a crescendo of platitudes may be the favourite send-off but as young people confront the obstacle course called ‘adult life’ why do we only tell them half the story? Hard work, determination and high expectations are great in the work place but social skills – graciousness, generosity and empathy – are what make life livable.”
I don’t envy graduates leaving school now. The learning curve for achieving and prospering in today’s world is huge, and the demands placed on you by ambition, both self-imposed and from family, can be equally stressful. Opportunities abound but being able to connect with them requires just the right combination of skills, talent, and energy, with more than a smidgeon of serendipity thrown in.
Like many of my generation I didn’t start out on my own. I was married at nineteen so I had a partner in my grand adventure. (It was a generational thing – we got marriage out of the way early in those days.) Two people facing the world together provide economies of scale, as well as emotional support, and we needed both. A week after university graduation we moved four thousand miles from home, because it was the best job offer, and immediately our learning curve hit a steep pitch. Thank God we weren’t alone.
Many young people were doing the same thing at that time, and many older people had “been there and done that”, and we were never short on good advice and a helping hand. Accepting both was part of the way we were brought up. We were taught to understand that a good life was defined by our ability to make ourselves “good company”, and through learning that skill we could enjoy the “good company” of others. We weren’t afraid to seek out new friends and offer them our trust. It sounds simple and naïve but it may have been the best lesson we ever learned.
As a generation we grew up under the threat of global nuclear war and, yet, our lives seemed freer then the lives of young people today.
When I tell young people this, the usual response is like, “Yea sure.” They don’t believe me. So, I tell them, “Every kid I grew up with had a bicycle by the time they were ten years old and few restrictions on where they took them as long as they were home for supper.” That is not the case today. Also, in my era, walking to school was normal unless you lived miles out into the country, and to ask for a ride to school was usually met by a parental response similar to, “Something wrong with your legs?” Now most parents – or school boards – don’t want children to walk. The world has changed and we are teaching each new generation to be more suspicious and wary than the last. Danger lurks around every corner and you can’t count on help from anyone.
The reasons for this attitude are varied and fill many library bookshelves. They range from the prevalence of sensationalist media and their preoccupation with the detailed, lurid activities of pedophiles; to the fact that the average Canadian family now has less than two children (about 1.5 per couple) and, therefore, each one is supposedly more precious. (Mind you, I would love to read an article that interviewed my parents and asked them why they were raising us in such an expendable fashion. It would have been interesting to hear their response.) Of course, there are people who make the case that the world is, in fact, more dangerous for children now, for a host of reasons and they could be right.
As young adults my wife and I reached out to others because we had little choice. When my roof leaked, or the timing belt in my car expired, or a light switch in my home exploded, or I hit a snag on my income tax return, if I had met someone, or learned of someone in our circle with the skills to help, I called them. And, later, when we became established and developed our own range of skills they, or others, called us and we helped them. These relationships continued long past the time when we could afford more professional advice and many of them remain strong today. Although born of mutual dependency, even desperation, they brought us into contact with people who always informed us, sometimes made us laugh, and occasionally brought friendship and peace of mind to our house – simply by sharing. We were “burned” a few times – but we learned how to protect ourselves and not chase the good people away in the process.
Obviously, eliminating risk or preparing someone for every danger is beyond the scope of human reality. At the same time, by focusing our efforts primarily on skills necessary to achieve success at work – as separate from the rest of our lives – we are being just as deficient in our teaching. Programming the next generation with suspicion, paranoia and excessive reliance on close family may build a well-padded cocoon around them, but it also may keep them from someday spreading their wings and truly seeing what the world has to offer. Avoiding contact with a wide range of people narrows you, limits your ability to learn life skills, and to feel the joy of belonging in a larger world, and although this paranoia induced in our last couple of generations may lessen the risks in life, it can make you very poor company, which, as I have learned, can be one of life’s greatest failures.
Just a Picture
