Thank goodness for teenagers.
There’s a whole lot of derogatory crap written by those in a-dolt-hood about young people in the throes of negotiating puberty. Some voices in my friendship group are always ready with the mindless mantra of hypocritical judgement; “In my day you wouldn’t have got away with blah blah blah . . .”
Being an adolescent provokes the same kind of irrational flak as being an active environmentalist. Can’t you just hear that label Greenie slide scornfully out the side of a sneer? “Those *$%#ing Greenies won’t let you do this, or that, or the other!”
It’s all about maintaining the us and them dichotomy in the ghostly recesses of our cultural discourse. You know? Those millions of unspoken assumptions and pigeon holes that pass for knowledge but are rarely revealed or reviewed. The darkest regions are haunted by opinion journalists and talk-back hosts who strum the discords of bigotry.
Unfortunately, it’s about disempowering one mob to empower another.
Well, I’ve just had an experience with teenagers that has lifted my opinion of the whole human race, and was empowering and rewarding. It usually is.
Each year, students from a Melbourne secondary school come down to the Southwest on camp. They take particular interest in the environment, get involved in volunteer activities and contribute to our community.
Our Bird Group got dirty hands and sore muscles planting thousands of native plants in the saltmarsh and dunes. We went on long beach rambles picking up rubbish and investigating the flora and fauna. We cooked and ate together, and sheltered as a southwest change roared in through the trees like a boiling surf break.
There was enthusiasm and boredom, focus and distraction, candour and furtiveness, eager participation, the shaking of heads and the rolling of eyes. Whatever . . .
It was a great opportunity for us oldies to share some knowledge about the environment with those who will shape our future. In return, we learned about avant-garde teen culture, language and lots of fresh perspectives. And we were magically transported back to our own youth.
Perhaps the best times were in the breaks between activities, being accepted into a small group to chat and joke.
I hurt myself laughing at a group of young women being very girly, stranded and screaming on a picnic table as an emu circled with intent . . . to eat their sandwiches.
I felt like I still had it when I was able to compare notes about Prince of Persia with a very boysey boy and fellow gamer.
One student looked at me as though I was nuts when I told her that I missed some things about school days. “Like, what?” she demanded. “Like learning a musical instrument,” I answered; “being in the school play; the relief and chaos of art class; getting away from the family for a fortnight in the bush on annual camp; Geography; visiting the engine room of a cargo ship; hangin’ out with mates and the kind of people I would never spend time with again . . .”
As they packed up to leave after our final day together, one young fellow thanked us for caring about the environment and showing them the plants and the animals. That comment alone will underwrite my volunteer activities for many years.
In the end, it was just good fun.
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| animal or plant? Bird Group beach combing and enjoying the wonders of a fan sponge |
