Recent Retirees: Rise Up and Un-F**k Our Kids’ Future!

What are we going to do with our valuable experience and expertise?

I’m circulating amongst my 7th grade class, checking that each group of kids are doing okay with calculating their carbon footprints — part of the lead in to the big, end of the year Take Action Project. I see a new piece of graffiti in blue crayon on one of the desks “Odio el proyecto de tomar acción.”

“Anyone know about this?” I ask, expecting the usual blank stares. But Selena (not her real name) starts scrubbing at it with her sleeve. “I wrote it.” she admits.

Selena is one of my best students. Incredibly bright and insightful, she goes above and beyond for most assignments. Shocked and curious, I ask her over to the door so we can talk quietly.

“What does it mean?” I ask.

“I hate the Take Action Project.” Selena translates for me.

Wow. Okay. She hates the project I’ve spent 15 years running, developing, and improving. And she’s defaced school property. It could mean a trip to the office, but I take a breath and ask her to explain.

“I’m just so angry at the adults, that they’ve ruined the world.” Selena says softly but definitively.

“Like Greta Thunberg?” I ask. “Yeah.” she agrees, looking mutinous.

“I get it Selena. I really do.” I realize she’s has understood the start of this project more deeply than most of her classmates: it’s a terrifying warning of what is happening to our planet and will happen to society if we continue with business as usual.

I planned this project’s arc purposely — first the dark, then the science of sources and sinks; the inspiration of others acting all over the world, then helping students figure out informed and effective actions they can take. It all leads up to a presentation of their ads and posters for the community film festival. (You can read more about The Orinda, Take Action! Project here.)

But it’s devastating to see the first phase of the project’s effect land so fully. It’s always a dilemma — balancing the dark and the light. Unfettered optimism is dangerous for the future. So is despair and cynicism. What is the magic mix that will inspire students to act, and to help them in turn, inspire the adults in their lives to also act?

I explain to Selena how and why I developed this project — how I’m doing the best I can to do something with what I’ve got. Could it help her figure out what she could do? She seems unconvinced.

“It’s not fair that the adults do this and then rely on us kids to fix it.” I can’t blame her. She’ll do the damn project because she cares about her grade. But I hope for more than that. I am feeling heartbroken for my students right now.

I share this story with my 28-year-old son who says everyone he knows is angry. Many of them are deciding not to have children, not to get married. We, older adults need to be aware of that level of despair for the future.

So, what are we — what am I — going to actually do?

It’s not enough to say, “The thing that gives me hope for the future is all the passionate and innovative young people in the world.” Caitlin Moran highlights this in More than a Woman, her amazing memoir of being a parent to a very depressed teen. In fact, many sensitive and intelligent young people feel crushed by the weight of that statement. Moran suggests this attitude significantly contributes to the uptick in anxiety amongst our children and teens. A feeling they need to save their parents from the end of the world. Imagine.

Retirement-age people like me have the least to lose. We can afford to be brave. We can get arrested without losing our jobs. We can go on protests without worrying about childcare. Or losing our jobs. We have the self-confidence to weather social media attacks. And then there’s the obvious: we’ll likely be dead before the worst of climate change causes a complete breakdown of social order.

But what we do have to lose is the next generation, the young people we love — the exhalation of lost souls as our pretty blue planet spins off into careless space.

Why don’t we recent retirees, with our valuable experience and expertise, rise up as a political movement?

I know the excuses — I’m guilty of thinking them as well:

• We say, “I’ve done my part. It’s time to do something for myself and enjoy what I’ve earned.”
• We seek comfort easily in the vast difference between “others should” and “I will.”
• We use, “I need to figure out the best thing to do,” as a delay tactic. You’ve probably felt exasperation with a young person still living in their parent’s spare room because “they haven’t found their passion yet.” I mean, get a f*ckin’ job while you wait to discover your “passion,” right? Okay, so take that exasperation and turn it back on yourself.

What are we waiting for? The perfect opportunity to tap us on the shoulder? We need to do something. Anything. But something. Something satisfying and enjoyable enough for us to keep doing it. Something that might set us on a path to discovering more we can do. And anything to light up and inspire the young people you love to also get up and push like hell.

We have the technology and well-tested science — we know what habits must change. We know about sources and sinks of greenhouse gasses and yes, we COULD reach drawdown. If… If we had a sense of community small and large, if “freedom” means more than fearful individual selfishness. If we had the political will.

We embody the political will, large and small. It involves getting off our asses and high horses. Not heroically “fighting” for what needs to be done, but just doing it:

• Invite people over. Build community.
• Talk with people you don’t agree with. Be curious before being judgmental. Build relationships. That’s what’s taught by Smart Politics, the parent organization of Progressively Speaking.
• Work at the larger political level as well: Deep canvassing phone calls help build bridges across divides, as do organizations like Braver Angels. Third Act from 350.org is a start for the over 60s, or the League of Women Voters.
• If you can’t do the hands-on work, make your money work for you with donations and ethical investments. That’s worked well for me — turns out ethical behavior by companies is also better business in the long run. Who knew?

It’s warmer and more interconnected work than we think, as the world opens up post-pandemic.

Get un-depressed and reconnected. Get the world un-f**ked. Note to self.