Library Mall can be considered the University of Wisconsin's most intense stomping grounds for anyone trying to be heard. Home to some of Madison's beloved political extremists, many of whom were pushed into the spotlight by their controversial showcasing of graphic photos depicting aborted fetuses, Library Mall is a turf best navigated with a fast paced walk and a set of headphones. I am a staunch advocate for the use of headphones on the way to class: Not only does fast-paced music motivate me to make it up Bascom Hill, but if you turn your music loud enough you have a good chance of drowning out the fundamentalists that are condemning you to hell for a list of different reasons.
The only circumstance in which I remove my headphones during my brisk walk to class is when I happen to bump into a close friend, and even sometimes a close friend is not even enough. It is for this exact reason that I was surprised at my own behavior when a week ago, walking through Library Mall, I stopped in my path and took a moment to listen to a single man holding a clipboard. This gentleman was standing on the outskirts of Library Mall, gently encouraging students to register to vote. Something inside me told me to stop and listen to him, and when he asked me to register I lied and told him I had already done so yesterday. Why, after taking the moment out of my day to stop and hear this man out, did I lie to him? I was done with class for the day and had nothing constructive to do with my afternoon, yet I still declined the opportunity to register to vote.
Apathy toward government and politics has always been somewhat endemic of recently eligible voters. What is causing this apathy? Why is it that I would rather go home and sit in front of a television watching daytime programming than be productive and register to vote? It's not that I have no social conscience or do not care about America's future. It seems to me that many are simply overwhelmed. In a period of time that is becoming increasingly comparable to the social and political climate of the Vietnam era, young adults are faced with the monstrosity of coming to terms with their government's actions. Amidst the GOP's almost daily job of dealing with scandal, even if it is falsified intelligence or a senator's sexual advances toward a young man, there remains the Middle Eastern quagmire. As if the public were not already having enough trouble digesting the deceit of elected officials and the out of control wildfire of the Iraq War, there is now the concern of North Korea's nuclear proliferation. It is no surprise that today's youth are disillusioned and disenfranchised with not only the current administration, but with politics as a whole.
Recently I have found that any discussion of government leaves me with bitter sentiment toward politicians and a cynical outlook on our future. The idea of casting my vote to a government that appears to be spinning out of control is frightening. It is natural to give up when one feels disempowered and this is exactly what is occurring across the country. More and more it is becoming apparent that dishonesty and accumulation of power have replaced fundamental ideals. The issue of eroding civil liberties, along with criticism of the administration, is constantly swept under the rug and closely monitored by the media. It comes as no surprise that youth and adults alike wish to wash their hands of all things government.
Therein lies our mistake. The attitude of feeling powerless to make change is an evil that can crumble an empire. If it is the wish of the people to change the direction of our government, we must first change our own direction. We must stray from the comforting arms of apathy in order to have a chance of rescuing America's currently dismal future. The strength of unity has kept America a nation of one for more than 200 years, and as a collective youth, we must all harness those powers of unity to secure the years to come. We are infinitely fortunate that regardless of race, sex or creed we are all unquestionably granted the right to vote. It is this right that cannot be squandered by ignorance or, even worse, the fear of not making a difference. Sure, it may seem as though there is no light at the end of the tunnel, but if we all continue to walk past that man with the clipboard there will eventually be no tunnel in which to see the light.
Max Schlusselberg ([email protected]) is a freshman majoring in journalism.
