“The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.” – Albert Einstein.

Change is a wonderful part of nature, one that can happen in a matter of seconds or one that can occur over the course of a hundred years. What causes change? A single thought can become a dream. A dream can turn into words.  Words can be made into actions. Actions can spur change. When I experienced my first change, I was only barely passing from one school building to another, from one grade to the next. As a child, my thoughts were plagued by pessimism and lack of interest in the world. A moment changed my way of life, and poetry became a part of my life. For our generation can be either a blessing or a curse, take your pick.

 Our Generation is proclaimed to be one of the most important poems of the twenty-first century, and with good reason. It is a small but powerful read, one that I recommend to anyone willing to actually think about its message. Our Generation delivers both a loud warning and a reassuring account in regard to how our generation functions and how we can impact the world. This is not a traditional piece to read; it requires one to read straight through then read it from bottom to top. From top to bottom Our Generation portrays our generation as a pack of individuals who have nothing to offer the world, be it by our laziness, our lust and greed, or our disregard for humanity.

Never will anybody say, We were the peak of mankind, That is wrong, the truth is

Our generation was a failure.

 “What garbage is Brianna feeding me now? She said this was going to be good; however, this is a waste of time,” yet I know this was not entirely true. I rarely have things to do because I procrastinate all the time- but right now she is stalling my chess match; regardless. It started about a week ago, when my sister came home and insisted that I read this poem- she had to read it in her English class and talked about how good it was nonstop (yet she never mentioned the poem’s focus). I avoided reading “the slice of a tree” for a week until this afternoon- when school ended, and we were killing time in the library; waiting to be picked up at 8pm. I remember playing a game of chess with a friend while Brianna was talking about manga with her nerdy friends. She took time from her discussion about Naruto to put the piece of paper beside the chess board. It wasn’t curiosity that made me pick up the paper; it was sheer boredom, as my friend was taking too long to make his next move. Although I did not entirely agree with the poem, I could not bring myself to entirely disagree either; being that I am in the hub of degeneracy- high school. In fact, looking at the people around me I didn’t really see much of the future- only a bunch of dead beat. In the corner, nestled in between books, there is a girl and boy engaged in a groping contest while across the room I can’t avoid ignoring the annoying boy from my Spanish class that is giving Mr. Swigger a blank and dumb expression, which only years of practice can achieve, as his only response is “why should I care if I do my homework, I was in GT!” Putting the poem aside, I proceed to take my friend’s queen; thus, causing him to stand and walk away.  I can’t help thinking with a smirk, “what’s his deal?” My eyes linger to the poem again, yes lingered to the poem, seeking wisdom from its words. Tell me something I don’t know.

Living only for money and power, Is the way to go.

All I can do is reflect on who I am now. Again, I look across the room at the faces of the people I just observed a few minutes ago- this time in confusion. Why am I, who believes himself capable of building a global industry to invoke change in the world, here? Who am I to judge these people? How can I be such a hypocrite; seeking wealth and luxury for myself even if it means leaving the world in a worse state than it is right now? How am I better than anyone in this room when, I myself, with this mentality, am just another failure waiting to happen? Do I have true inspirations for a brighter future or are they conceited dreams created by a boy who only lusts for power and prestige? Line after line of this short poem brings me to the harsh reality that believing that I am an exception is a joke. And then I find myself reading the final words:

We knew that, People thought we couldn’t come back, That might be true, Unless we turn things around

I know without a doubt that everything this poem illustrates about us, as a generation, is true. That no single person, alone, can cause the positive change that this world desperately needs.

After getting home from school and secluding myself in my room, I was staring aimlessly at the ceiling, light fading in the distance, when I heard an abrupt knock on the door and my sister struts in.

“So how did you like the poem I shared with you?” she questioned with a smirk.

“To be honest, the truth hurts; it made me realize that as we are right now, our generation can achieve nothing.”

“Is that all you have to say?” she asked confused.

“Well yeah, that was all there is to it- it is pretty short.”

“Read it again this time from the bottom to top.”

Skeptical as to how changing the way I read it will change anything, I pick up the paper from my desk and try out her advice. After putting down the poem…well there are no words to describe it. Changing the way you read this poem will give it a different meaning: one of determination, reassurance, and ultimately hope.

Unless we turn things around, That might be true, People thought we couldn’t come back, We knew that, Was a joke… Changing our world for the better, Will not be easy, but we will try...

 Time and time again I have been proven wrong and today was no exception. Being a person who hasn’t truly chosen to be a part of a bigger picture, yet strives to build an empire, cannot possibly bring about change unless internal change is achieved first. Insignificant things that we do not notice can have a profound effect. As a child, I had two types of memories: cold and heartless, and engaged and rewarding. It was over the course of my childhood that I repressed the latter for no reason other than that I became accustomed to seeing the darkness instead of the light. Being the good Catholic boy who was outspoken and greeted every stranger in the elevator, who strove to put the needs of others above his own, seemed useless now or ever since I forgot who I was. They were just vague memories- lost sonnets of a time long forgotten- yet now they flooded out of the recesses of my mind and became as vivid as if they had occurred yesterday. One, in particular, stood out among the rest. It has been a while since I thought about life as full of possibility and with the potential for peace.

Being loving, respectful, and kind Is the way to go. Living only for money and power Is a waste.

At the age of six, I had a strong love for nature and I wanted to know the laws of nature. By this, I began to think big and I looked to the horizon with the hopes of seeing a bright future. I remember seeing my color tv screen with fascination, to being exposed to microbiology for the first time, and the feeling of fulfillment when I told my dad that I was going to cure the world of sickness and disease. I recall him telling me that such an idea will make me rich and famous, and me telling him that money was not my motive, but the genuine belief that my purpose was to help anyone who sought help. Ever since, I help anyone who asks me for help and I lend my ear to whomever wants to be heard regardless of my own issues.

... the truth is We were the peak of mankind. Never will anybody say, Our generation will be known for nothing.

 It wasn’t until the end of high school that I discovered more of the person I wished to become and I thought of the poem. In the span of four years since I had read the poem for the first time, I have volunteered at the local Catholic Charities of Northern Nevada, became a star pupil, made many friends, found a new purpose, and was now walking up to the stage of my high school graduation. Walking across the platform and shaking hands with my principal, brought back the moment I first read the lines above. Now looking around, instead of seeing the faces of children only just getting out of the superficial hierarchy of middle school, I see the faces of bright young individuals whose eyes gleam with the dreams that will soon become a reality. After the event (and after eating sushi), I found myself walking to my car barely noticing that the light was fading in the distance. I was opening the door of my car when I felt a breeze and saw the dwindling sunlight. Turning around I look at the shrinking horizon and thought to myself, “our generation's legacy begins with the dawn of a new era and the start of a new day; all we must wait for is tomorrow.”

Over the course of four years I had changed from a boy, who had no place in the world and who dreamed of seeing the world on its knees, to a young man who not only realized change is not something that happens violently and quickly but a process that can only occur when groups of individuals strive towards a common goal. The catalyst of my transformation occurred one day when my annoying sister pushed a tiny poem at my face and told me how it changed her view of things. It was this piece of written art that inspired me to give more meaning to my life than what my past-self desired; to provide a change in how society works- not for my own personal benefits, but for the prosperity of all. Literature and poetry shaped my reality and molded my future, Our Generation gave me a new dream- a dream I know can be made into reality.