This Sunday past, Doug and I heard a great message about counterculture. The overall theme was that living a good life, one that is free from the greed, corruption, and hypocrisy that have become normalized in our culture, should involve a certain level of discomfort. I found this idea quite provocative. In sociology, we learn that one of the strongest emotional desires we feel as humans is the "need" to be accepted by others, to fit in. We spend so much of our time trying to win the approval of others, to find a place and identity within our culture... the thought that we should actually be rejecting what is around us, regardless of the social ramifications, seems counterintuitive. The speaker, however, was insistent that a proper life (one of love, morality, what have you) is one that should be uncomfortable, because it will be a life that runs counter to the norm and will necessarily be met with resistance and hardship. I wonder, though, how many are brave enough to give up on the feeling of acceptance and camaraderie with those around us. What a wonderful, complicated proposition.
The other day, in our progression through the "society and culture" unit, my class took a look at the counterculture of the 1960s. We studied the whole gamut - hippies, yippies, and the like - examining the motives and behaviors of each. I find it humorous to watch my students glamorize and idolize the outliers of generations past, knowing full well that very few of them (if any) possess the courage to break free (
really break free) of the mainstream themselves. When I propose to my students that someone do something about the injustices and travesties we study in class (poverty, environmental destruction, objectification of women, to name a few) the response is the same: "Well, Miss Wilson, if I am the only one who stands up, what difference would it make? Why bother?" There is no sense of purpose, no determination to do what is
right, regardless of the outcome. I fear that their inactivity originates far less from a fear of ineffectiveness, and much more from a fear of being the "only one". I am aware that, as adolescents, much of their self-identity and esteem relies on the acceptance of their peers, that the stigma of social rejection and isolation seems for many a fate worse than death, but if we are not training our youth to be less dependent on the approval of others, how can we ever expect our adults to do so?
It often shocks, disgusts, and amuses me when I see how unwelcoming our culture is to those who think outside of the box. We pretend to be a nation that supports innovators and pioneers... but really, how do we treat those who choose to step out of line, out of pace? Even the simple, little things tend to make people uncomfortable. When I share with others that I do not own a television (such an innocuous individual decision in my opinion) I am typically met with gasps of disbelief, ridicule, even borderline horror. "How do you live? Why are you so weird?" Are we really so threatened by those who choose to follow a different path, that we cannot support such a small personal decision?
So, what I am wondering is whether or not any of us really have what it takes to stand up and reject a culture that is leaving more and more Americans disempowered, unhealthy, and unfulfilled. As a history teacher, I have the pleasure and privilege of studying and sharing the stories of brave individuals who stood up for their beliefs despite the social costs. So go ahead: love a God people tell you doesn't exist, refuse to laugh at the jokes made at the expense of others, reject the products and media that suggest we are only valuable for how we look or what we own. Be DIFFERENT. You have my support, not that you need it :)
Okay, and I do have to admit that one of my favorite parts about teaching the culture of American society is dressing up in decade-appropriate garb all week. Rock on.
