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could see it in the somber, even grave, tone in their speech, in
their subdued conversations in cafeterias, and in the way some averted
tearing eyes when the events of September 11 came up in discussion.
The current crop of college students, to judge from my experience
as a professor at Boston College, will never be the same. Condoleezza
Rice called the events of last Tuesday "transforming."
This is likely to be most true for college students, who have just
begun to taste the independence and freedom that we Americans take,
or at least used to take, for granted. During orientation sessions,
they were touted by administrators as the first classes of a new
century, a new millennium proclamations they dismissed with
a shrug. The dates marked the passage of time, nothing more. Now,
one date at least, September 11, is burned in their memory.
This generation
of students has never been as hopeless as their detractors on the
Right or the Left have imagined. They are not just polite and pleasant,
but also organized, goal-oriented, and generally quite diligent.
But even in their virtues these students suffer from what Tocqueville
called "individualism": "a mature and calm feeling"
that disposes each person to "draw apart with his family and
friends" and "willingly leave society to itself."
The problem is that this way of life can easily devolve into an
easygoing nihilism, a version of which was on display in the detached,
ironic individualism of the most celebrated sitcom of the last decade,
Seinfeld. Pursuing the life of well-being and consumer comfort,
today's students are hesitant, indeed feel no real need, to make
judgments about good and evil. The question, which our attackers
answer for themselves everyday, "for what are you willing to
die?" tends to strike them as unreal, irrelevant. These questions
are now unavoidable and most pressing. Although teaching and learning
in such a situation can be quite difficult, some of my philosophy
colleagues report unusually lively discussions of Plato's Apology,
which narrates the trial and conviction of Socrates.
On Saturday,
September 15, the Boston Globe ran a lengthy story about
four, male Boston College freshman and their reactions to the terrorist
attack and the prospects of war. The shock they described, the fear
for the safety of loved ones (many students come from the New York
City area), the loss of their confident sense of America's "impenetrability"
all this indicates the degree to which all sorts of assumptions
are now in question. Debates about war, even about enlisting, that
were once academic exercises, are now regular features of dorm life.
But the students need not entertain the still somewhat distant possibility
of active participation in war to realize that heroic sacrifice
may be demanded of them. They now have more than the suggestion
that heroes once existed; they have the benefit of a host of examples
(too many to keep up with) of heroism, of nobility and courage in
the face of terrifying death. They have the many police, firefighters,
and ordinary citizens who lost their lives trying to save the lives
of others. They have the story of FDNY chaplain Father Judge, who
was crushed by falling debris while giving the last rites to a dying
fireman. Most instructive of all, they have the story of a those
passengers on the flight hijacked out of Newark, who, fully aware
of their fate, chose to fight and, while losing their own lives,
likely saved many others. The absence of quick military response
and the constant media presence in New York has given us the opportunity
to ponder these deeply moving stories in intimate detail. The examples
should inspire reflection not just about dying nobly but about living
well, about what we want to celebrate and honor most in our common
life.
It is certainly
too early to predict the outcome of recent events for the nation
or for this generation of college students. And it is not yet clear
that a generation raised on expectation of unlimited opportunity
and quick financial success is up to the task of extended sacrifice.
But one thing is sure. They are less likely to be fated to casting
about for a hollow tag like "Generation X" to describe
lives that seem to lack public significance or purpose.
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