Coming From Where I'm From

In communication, it is vitally important to know one's audience. If one is going to communicate effectively to others, one has to know the hopes and fears of those one is speaking with (or writing to), what issues (and words) set them off, and the motivations and experiences of the audience. Often, what works very well for one person or group of people may fail miserably with a different audience. In speaking, or in targeted writing (e-mails, letters, etc.), one has a definite audience in mind, and should write or speak accordingly. In cases such as this blog, for example, it is notoriously difficult to know exactly who my audience is. In such a case as this I know my audience generally from comments (thank you, brave respondents) as well as from the occasional complaints, often relayed via third parties (I would hope I am not that unapproachable of a person). If it were possible, I would speak in a way that would be true to my own experiences as well as avoid causing offense to those whose generational persepctive and personal experiences do not match with my own. To a large extent, this is not possible, and so I leave room for those who take issue with my words to speak to me and request clarification or explanation.

I recently had a rather stern debate with an older person before services. Now, I am not the sort of person who goes looking for debates, but I do tend to be somewhat prickly when people begin insulting my generation (of which I am a vociferous and fierce defender). So a somewhat cranky older person decides to take a swipe at me and comment that he is fifty years older than me, asking me if I had anything to tell him. I asked him if his time was well spent, and he proceeded to go into a litany about how young people lack discline and a sense of obedience to their elders, and gave the rather tired comment that our generation feels overly entitled (while this may be true in large part, I concede, I have to say we learned from the best in the previous generation, made of up largely whiny middle aged people, including this gentleman, who themselves have felt entitled their entire lives, and show little sign of stopping now). In the end, as we verbally fenced about his military experiences (I decided to charitably pass on without mention on his litigious ways of suing and appealing for early social security and medicare so that he can receive his living and health insurance off of my diligent labor) and about the situations and conditions where obedience to God and man is necessary (we both agreed that obedience to God is not contingent on everything, and agreed that where man's commands contradict God's we are duty bound to disobey the orders of human beings), we were not particularly far apart as far as where we stood.

That is not to say that there were not levels of disagreement (he tended to look nostalgically on certain rather authoritarian figures that I feel much more ambivalent about, and he gave less room for legitimate dissent), but our differences were more about words than about beliefs. The way he expressed himself about the ideal younger generation struck me as seeking a mindless and robotic obedience, and no one should expect anything mindless about anything I do. "Because I said so" does not suffice as a reason, and it is good to some extent that the culture of deference is no more. That said, the general collapse of credibility among authority figures is not without extreme difficulties and major problems. It would be nice if leaders could be trusted, but as they cannot be trusted, we should act accordingly and not pretend otherwise. We must judge orders and the actions of others on a case-by-case basis, and cannot assume that others have our best interests at heart without proof.

It is here where the differences between us were most profound. Our differences in language (which were largely reflective of generational differences, but in my case colored rather strongly by personal experience) were reflective of the differences in trust between the two of us. His trust allows him to grant a wide latitude towards authority figures, where as my mistrust does not. To him, until proven otherwise, leaders exert their power for good. To me, until proven otherwise, those with power are an active threat to my well-being and security. Even to the extent that both of us agree that obedience to man's laws (and, less seriously, orders and requests from other authority figures like bosses and so forth) where they do not contradict God's laws (and both of us do agree on that point), the emphasis we choose to make and the level of trust forms a huge and rather suspicious gulf. He (and no doubt others who share his perspective) sees my suspicion (and that of other young people) as rebelliousness, a lack of discipline, and a lack of the honor and respect he feels entitled to.

As a young person, I am all to aware (if not particularly thrilled) with the fact that it is necessary for me to pay my dues and show myself worthy of respect, especially as there is a natural suspicion of older people for me as well as the age group I represent. That said, there are mutual expecations. I expect others to pay their dues as well. If older generations wish to be respected by young people, there are obligations they must meet as well. These include wise counsel (demonstrated not merely in words, but in actions, because I find it difficult in my life to find anyone who sets a positive example for me to follow in many areas). They also include opportunities for mentoring (again, I have a difficult time finding anyone who could be a worthy mentor). They also include a commitment to providing opportunities for responsibility (this is an area in which older generations have, in my experience, shown themselves worthy) as well as provide honor and respect for a job well done, rather than only insults and ridicule and censure. It is easier to give honor and respect when it is due when one receives it when it is due also.

It is difficult for me to convey my own life experiences in ways that older generations would understand, and the reverse is certainly true. Their life experiences and social environment is much different from my own, and I do not know if the gap can be bridged based on the current sort of communication that goes on. What they have as memories, often nostalgic memories, are for me historical knowledge that bring no joy and are often tinged with more than a little envy and regret. Both sides of the gulf have expectations of the other that are not fulfilled, and there seems to be little way of communicating the mutual unmet needs and wants across the distance of language and time unless both are willing to step halfway. When and if that happens, who can know? For now, though, it appears my interlocutor and I are stuck on opposite sides looking warily at each other, each waiting for the other to take the first step.