For the past twenty-one years of my life, I believed there was a line I was never meant to cross. In elementary school, it was a line that separated the girls who played on the swingset and the boys who wrestled on the soccer field. The line in junior high divided social classes and their respective tables in the ecosystem of the school cafeteria. High school had lines at every turn, dividing those in relationships from those left single, and the kids who went out on the weekends from the ones who studied. As liberating as crossing to the other side seemed, there were norms to be followed. I followed those traditions until a visit to our nation’s capital changed everything.
During my first visit to Washington, D.C., I happened upon a protest that was taking place in front of the Supreme Court of the United States. At first, I did not have any intention of participating until I noticed that there were other women, my age and younger, bravely holding up their posters. Eager not to miss out, I grabbed a Sharpie and a poster and wrote my opinion for the world to see. I took my place next to someone around the age of my grandmother, who had been fighting for this issue much longer than I had. Both sides were screaming at each other. man was exclaiming his views in the faces of innocent bystanders, and a news crew was in the center to capture it all. Being someone who values respectful discourse and reaching solutions, this format was somewhat difficult. Across the way, I saw two women who were about my age, holding posters that expressed beliefs much different than mine. I wanted to know their story, to understand why they thought the way they did, and connect with people who were as passionate as I was, even if we stood on opposing sides of the argument. I did something that I had never done before. Putting my poster on the ground, I crossed that invisible line and walked up to them. People stared, but that did not matter. I explained that I just wanted to hear their perspectives, not argue. That is exactly what we did for an hour; we listened to each other. We crossed the invisible line and came closer, as three adolescents. We did something that people three times our age could not manage. We, the great line-crossers, are the future of America. Since that day, I have believed that my children will grow up in an America that is better than the one we have today.
It is incredibly easy to become pessimistic about the future, from the moment we open our news apps in the morning, to turning off the nightly television before bed. The headlines speak of negativity, an inability to compromise, and elected officials who would rather boost their egos than work together in pursuit of the common good. It can become almost impossible to imagine a future in the United States that is better than the one we have today. However, the coming leaders promise something different. Generation Z is a force to be reckoned with. Generation Z is not just line-crossers; they are changemakers.
We take the lessons learned from past generations and use them to create a better tomorrow. We value achievement, equity, and progress. We stand up for what is right, and have the ability to communicate respectfully with others when we differ in definitions of what right is. We root for the underdog and strive to make better choices than those who came before us. We are not without faults, but we have great potential as we reach our futures.
Generation Z has started movements, donated countless resources to the underprivileged, become entrepreneurs, and done the unthinkable: bridging the gap between groups who once thought they could not come together. There is a long way to go, but for centuries America has somehow defied all odds and remained standing. To quote Martin Luther King Jr., “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” [1]. Generation Z is here for the long run, crossing the lines to justice, until our children can no longer see where those lines were once drawn.
