By Mary Whitfill
Features Editor

I am an old soul. I write letters on stationary, I only understand the most basic of technological functions, I use only a pen and paper to conduct interviews and I own more close-and-play record players than I care to admit.

It is indisputable that I was supposed to be born in 1950, enjoying the presidency of John F. Kennedy and the music of John Lennon in the 60s, following Stevie Ray Vaughn around the country in the 70s, refusing to grow up in the 80s and crying when Bill Clinton was elected in the 90s.

As I let myself fall into this fascination with past generations, I have realized maybe I don’t have so much a respect for my elders as disrespect for my own time. I find myself idolizing writers, artists, politicians, protestors and musicians of the past and hating those of my own generation.

I recently sat down to read 1960s pop-culture analysis book, “There’s a Riot Going On,” and before I’d even begun, the novel’s tribute caught my attention. It read: “and to Georgia & Tom Ansell, in the hope that their generation finds the will to question authority and the vision to change the world.”

I found this request compelling. Here, someone who has not only watched, but dissected the rise and fall of a completely revolutionary generation, is wishing the same thing upon us, a people of a completely different time. On an otherwise blank page, a complete stranger is asking me and my peers to have the passion to mold the world.

Now, the few people I have talked to about the subject look at me with undeniable apathy, saying, “I wouldn’t even know what to change.” This frightens me. Here we sit in a world full of poverty, declining economies, corrupt governments and thriving intellects, and the people of my generation are threatening to sit idly by and do nothing.

Sure, we may not face the same problems of the 60s. We aren’t fighting for the liberation of minorities or toppling global capitalism, but the problems we face are no less real and no less threatening. So why are we determined to make our generation less impactful?

During the time of these raging revolutionaries, even a 15-year-old schoolboy with the most limited grasp of world events could easily determine which side he was on, but now, I guarantee 80 percent of the CHS senior class couldn’t name three GOP candidates or five countries the U.S. occupies.

I refuse to be part of this apathetic generation. I want my peers to reflect the revolution of a new time; I want to leave a mark on America.