Although future generations would mock the idealism of John F. Kennedy’s ’40 appeal to “ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country,” his call to service was more than a mere platitude. His message reflected a fervent belief that the concerned citizen ought to contribute part of his life to the national interest, a civic philosophy that had been cultivated while a young Jack Kennedy was at Harvard. Today, it is unfortunate that more Americans have not heeded Kennedy’s important call, but even more discouraging that the call itself has been dismissed not only as trite but as too ideal and naïve.
It is not altogether surprising that our generation is disillusioned with government and pessimistic about prospects of a brighter future. Those leaders in whom we have put our trust have consistently failed to solve—or in some cases, even neglected to try to solve—the problems that we are facing; and scandal after scandal has tarnished the reputation of elected office. Turning our backs on government, however, and neglecting the issues yet again is not the correct response. The negligence and failures of older generations should not lead us away from careers in government, but should only bolster our commitment to the causes we believe in. It is precisely during these trying times, these times of disenchantment, that public service becomes so crucial.
To dismiss idealism wholesale and deride its proponents is to ignore some of the great social projects of our generation. To combat those who believe Kennedy’s command implausible are the many who have followed his words and proved them possible. Teach for America (TFA) began as the thesis of a Princeton senior. The brainchild of a 22-year-old intent on fixing America’s educational inequity provides low-income schools with highly educated young people who are three times more effective at teaching core subjects than those who would otherwise be in their stead.
And TFA is just one of many philanthropic or socially conscious organizations started by young social entrepreneurs that is experiencing rapid growth and tremendous success. Countless others, including Orphans Against AIDS started by a 26-year-old Harvard Business School student and Unite for Sight started by a Yale sophomore in her dorm room, are living proof that young adults intent on changing the world can have a monumental impact. These recent college graduates who serve nationally and internationally in a myriad ways are no doubt idealists, but don’t they seem to have learned from the naïveté of older generations?
If a high-minded impulse to change one’s country and the world is naïve or irrational, then what is the rational alternative? Is it that the world is unchangeable? Change is tough, but should we all resign ourselves to working within the confines of massive institutions that claim to tangentially effect “real” progress? Big institutions can often be agents for social change, but many times the young people that go work for them are too narrowly concerned with their own personal goals. A so-called reasoned impulse, it seems, leads only to an apathy and inertia that stands in the way of human progress; it is an unwillingness to deviate from a clearly charted course.
True naiveté is the misconception that this generation cannot change the world. Negligence simply isn’t an option any longer. The world we live in, from our school systems to our ecosystems, is unsustainable in its current state, and our generation must change that. The idealism of today is not the irrationality of lofty thinkers but the optimism and creativity of those facing the hard facts. The alternative is accepting defeat, accepting that negligence and bad policies have led to an irreparable state.
Four years at Harvard have convinced me that bright young people haven’t lost that ripple of hope, and that our idealism is slowly but surely yielding results. Seeing students participate in community service, political campaigns, protests, Reserve Officer Training Corp, and the hundreds of other activities and organization on this campus has convinced me that the myth of this generation’s apathy and disinterest is just a myth. To be sure, we may be a little careerist. But while Harvard is accused of sending all of its talented students into the black hole of finance, it should be noted that nine percent of the class of 2008 applied to work for TFA, and many others are entering into careers of service. Harvard Law School launched its Public Service Initiative, granting free third-year tuition to students who dedicate the next five years to public service. And the recent emergence of many social entrepreneurship organizations are offering alternatives to more traditional modes of service.
In the meantime, however, public service still ranks low on the occupational list for a large number of Harvard students. Yet, for a student body so concerned with the future, so active in politics, environmental concerns and so forth on campus, it is worth reflecting on how much depends on what the government decides outside these ivy walls. Public service is the way to translate these ideal beliefs of our youth into substantive action. While we may imagine that things can be better, the good comes from acting on that imagination every day.
Kennedy often quoted Archimedes, who explained the science of the lever by asserting, “Give me a place to stand, and I can move the world.” Harvard isn’t such a bad place to stand. It’s ripe with individuals who seek to change the world in all fields of study, in all walks of life. It’s brimming with opportunity and information. Nowhere is it easier to be idealistic, nowhere is it easier to believe that so much is possible. But now, more than ever, it needs to remain that place, its students committed to the reasoned idealism that it represents.
Nicholas J. Melvoin ’08, a former Crimson editor, is government concentrator in Lowell House. He will join TFA next fall.
Read more in Opinion
My So-Called Senior Year