CSotD: They’re not Millennials (and other observations)
Skip to comments
Bill Day on the reception the kids from Marjory Stoneman Douglas received from their elected representatives in Tallahassee.
As you may know, the students from Parkland — or, that is, the ones who weren't murdered the other day — went to the state capital to lobby the legislature to talk about gun safety, and the legislature promptly voted 36-71 not to bring the topic up for debate.
Now, on the one hand, it was a lesson in How Things Work, because even the Democrats who tried to put the debate on the docket for the day admitted it was an unusual step, and it's not bad for the kids to learn the system.
Understanding the system was a key factor in the Civil Rights Movement, and not just in the days of the Freedom Riders but up to the Black Panthers.
Though what was sometimes learned in those days was that, if you come at them through the system, they will come back at you through the KKK, through compliant sheriffs, through a corrupt FBI. Ask the Freedom Riders. Ask the Panthers.
In this case, what the kids learned was that having 17 of their classmates gunned down in school is not enough of an emergency to motivate legislators to alter their schedule.
And, really, what's the big deal with a mass murder? Happens all the time. If we stopped what we're doing every time some nut opens fire on a crowd, we'd never get anything done.
Besides, we lowered the flags. We offered thoughts and prayers. That should be enough.
Well, on to March 24, kids, and, meanwhile, let me point out a couple of things:

One is that being hated and misunderstood is not the worst of things and might help keep the fight alive. As Pat Bagley points out, the right wing lunatics are accusing you of … something. Of getting help from adults. Of seeking advice from older people. Whatever.
And, yeah, it is funny to hear them parrot the idea that you're parroting someone else's ideas.
Which isn't a surprise because every time an intelligent, articulate kid writes a letter to the editor, some jackass who couldn't write his name in the dirt with a stick accuses the kid of being someone's puppet.
But attracting the hatred of haters is kind of a double-negative in that it means you're on the right track.
Your grandparents got it from popular comedians and anonymous billboard geniuses a half century ago.
When they can't answer your questions they simply go to cheap insults.
Which, by the way, reminds me that some of us know you're not Millennials, and the way we know that is by having you tell us you're not.
Which is to say, listening helps avoid misunderstandings, but you absolutely cannot expect anyone to listen. Any political movement that relies on that, even from its allies, is doomed.
Slogans work. Logic does not.
For instance, I'm seeing once again the argument that the Founders wouldn't have written the Second Amendment if they'd anticipated automatic rifles, that they assumed muzzle loaders.
Which is a catchy argument, but an insult to the Founders, because the Constitution is about principles, not specifics.
Besides, the Founders also lived in a world in which "Freedom of the Press" referred to handset type. If the Second Amendment didn't anticipate automatic rifles, the First didn't even anticipate photocopiers, never mind broadcasting or the Internet.
But logic is for planning. Slogans are for crowds.
You must arm yourself with logic and knowledge: Read the Federalist Papers and the AntiFederalist Papers, but recognize that being able to argue intelligently is nowhere near as important as being able to organize efficiently.
So appeal to emotions. And register voters.
And then make sure they get to the polls. A few days before the election, call them to remind them to vote. Offer them a ride.
Make it happen.

And remember that the powerful only hate people who threaten their grip. As Matt Davies notes, their real concern is transparent.
And don't forget to laugh
You'll have plenty of opportunities to weep. Don't miss any chances to laugh:

For instance, Dave Granlund offers this commentary on Trump's agreement to support background checks. Which, by the way, you should only take seriously when he follows through, because his track record there is pretty flimsy.
Perhaps not as flimsy as his background checks on staff, no. But that doesn't say much.

And Tom the Dancing Bug reminds us that the first step to Making America Great Again is putting an honest, intelligent man in the White House. Yes, it's a lot of work. See above about organizing.
But it's okay to laugh while you work.
Old man nostalgia:
You might have heard that my generation said "Don't trust anyone over 30," but the fact is we had many older heroes, some very much older than we were. Here's how Jack Weinberg, who said it first, explained the expression:
I was being interviewed by a newspaper reporter, and he was making me very angry. It seemed to me his questions were implying that we were being directed behind the scenes by Communists or some other sinister group. I told him we had a saying in the movement that we don't trust anybody over 30. It was a way of telling the guy to back off, that nobody was pulling our strings.
Sound familiar?
And one of the very earliest heroes of our generation was Davy Crockett, who, after his opposition to Andrew Jackson's Indian Removal Act cost him his seat in Congress, said this:
I am sorry to say I do doubt the honesty of many men that are called good at home, that have given themselves up to serve a party. I am no man's man. I bark at no man's bid. I will never come and go, and fetch and carry, at the whistle of the great man in the white house, no matter who he is.
We could use a few like him, and like Phil:
Comments 10
Comments are closed.