I bought a blank book in which to write thoughts I didn’t want to forget. When she made change, the cashier handed me a commemorative fifty cent piece minted in 1976 bearing the profile of John F. Kennedy. He is someone I do not know a great deal about except that he was shot. It seems his entire existence is caught up in a stream of grainy film footage during which his head explodes. No one is really sure who shot him and why, but theories and speculations run rampant, helping to fulfill mankind’s need for an elaborate mythology. A friend of mine told me that the span of his life was punctuated by assassinations and attempted assassinations of political figures. Since Kennedy, it seems to have become easier to earmark history with tragedy and foul play.
In Kennedy’s inaugural address, he spoke of a different America than the one we know today. It was a strong America, one that could be master of its own house. It was a disciplined America whose creation of weapons was tempered with the hope that they would never be used. It was an honest America, backing up its claims and acknowledging its shortcomings. It was a bold and bright America, standing proudly at the helm of a new world order. It was, as some have called it, a Camelot — a magical land of dignity and honor, where dreams were fought for and honest toil was the coin of the realm.
Where is this world now? Where is this America that I can be proud of? It ended in a red spray across the back seat of a convertible. Since then, it has become a country that eats its young, sending them off to fight in a war called Vietnam. We have turned from a fire that lights the world to a fire that lights the flag, abortion clinics and a compound in Waco, Texas. With each new election, we enter into a new relationship of fear and distrust, hoping that there won’t be another Watergate or Iran-Contra affair; hoping that “we won’t get fooled again.” This is Camelot after Arthur’s discovery of Gweneviere and Lancelot’s unfaithfulness.
Kennedy spoke of a torch being passed to a new generation of Americans. Capable men and women with a clear direction in which to run. He inspired America because he saw a goal no one was brave enough to consider: a whole world united in peace. Kennedy was the spokesman of Destiny and Dream, the mouthpiece of Morpheus calling a nation out of sleep into a shining future. His was the language of hope.
In his world, everyone had a duty to fulfill. “Ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country.” These words come echoing down to us through the corridors of history followed shortly by a gunshot and then the silence of a nation reeling as a heartbeat stops and the sun is put out.
Today, the torch has been passed on to a new generation of Americans. Our generation. But this time, the runner stands in place, unsure of where to go. No one has provided a road map for the future. No one has volunteered to lead. The children of the blue light sit at home watching the ghost of Kurt Cobain play the guitar on the MTV, searching for a hero who give a damn.
I look at the commemorative coin bearing the image of John F. Kennedy and wonder if this currency is even any good any more. It is a token from a country called to “bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, ‘rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation’.” The coin does not seem to fit the slots of the instant gratification Coca-Cola machines that have weaned our generation.
Kennedy called for America to “go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessings and His help, but knowing that here on earth God’s work must truly be our own.” These words have such an idealistic ring to our jaded ears. As Douglas Coupland, the author of Generation X , said, “Yours is the first generation to be raised without God.” That is more or less true. Our generation, as a gesture of individuality, has shaken off all authority, divine or otherwise, pledging allegiance to no will but our own.
But when we find ourselves listless and alone, we cry out for leadership and guidance. Who will show us the way? Who will speak for us? In the darkness, we hear only our own voices echoing back. And therein lies the answer.
Our generation does share some attributes from Kennedy’s day. We are born in this century, but will live to see a new one. We are tempered by a war that rages in our cities and homes. We are unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed.
Our moment is coming. Within a decade we will be at the controls of the world machine and not victims that fall into the gears. We are the authors of our fate. The most recent edition to my blank book is that “Our generation has miles to go before we sleep and miles to go before we sleep.”