On academics, delinquents, and the 'dregs' of 'society'
As a point of note, I am proudly directly descended from two college dropout hippies who spent much of their youth marching on Washington, protesting the Vietnam war and volunteering for long-shot political candidates they truly believed in (and both of whom eventually lost their drive when the tide rolled back, and have moved on to quite plain lives and non-profit offices). Here I am today, thirty-one years old, working from home on a Sunday afternoon, trying to keep my own job afloat as a white-collar contractor for a non-military arm of the federal government, watching news of my friends in university, in unions, in law, play various roles in Occupy Boston and New York and DC. Every morning I check my email hoping to find that no one of them has been arrested, particularly reluctantly by another.
And I wonder, if my parents had been even as barely financially secure as I've clawed my way up to, back when their generation took to the streets, if they'd have worked at home on weekends to feed their families instead of marching on Washington. I wonder how many others were at work quietly cheering them on and hoping for change. I wonder how many of us there are now.
And I wonder, if my parents had been even as barely financially secure as I've clawed my way up to, back when their generation took to the streets, if they'd have worked at home on weekends to feed their families instead of marching on Washington. I wonder how many others were at work quietly cheering them on and hoping for change. I wonder how many of us there are now.