After viewing the recent clips, I resolved on delving into Matisyahu's "Youth". The searing lyrics and coinciding montage create a raw and desolate space for youths. I extracted from these lurid images that every youth, whether it be the African boy soldier or the white child from suburbia, wants to escape. It would be grossly wrong for me to equate a boy soldier's plight with a youth surrounded by a raucous marriage, but within each one's world they wholly believe life is no worse than this.
The classroom suddenly transforms into an asylum, a haven that temporarily removes one from the manic and pain of reality. Yet, even teachers have "squashed the flame/fore it had a chance to grow", which leaves little hope for ameliorating one's suffering. These were perhaps the most disheartening lyrics of the song and I quickly felt despondent. If a teacher provides no hope, but rather incredulity and discouragement, then we simply perpetuate the anguish and heartache. We feed our youth to the wolves, expecting them to self-govern, "slamming their fists on tables and making demands". How can we even entertain the possibility that they would "make the right move?" We have not shown them, nor do we care to show them these so called "right moves", the smarter, less irrational decisions. They miss class and find escape within their drug induced stupor. Therefore, failure for youth is desired, expected, inevitable.
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