They say every generation has a defining event, whether it be an economic crisis, a political scandal, a war or a global catastrophe. Some of Generation Z, my generation, hasn’t left high school yet, and we’ve seen all four happen — some multiple times.
And what has this done to us? It’s plain and simple: We are apathetic.
Every school shooting, every pandemic, every war and every scene of political corruption fed to us by the world has resulted in mere apathy. Our generation has been inoculated and indoctrinated to view these problems as normal, so we simply don’t care.
One question has permeated our mindset: What will Gen Z’s defining event be? You could argue it has already passed. You could say we are defined by recurring sociopolitical events, tipping point after tipping point. In a way, they were all our “moment.”
But I argue none are. We have seen the worst, yet apathy is all we have to show for it. And so, like a damsel in distress, we have waited for some heroic action to save the day. Until now.
After some dormancy, my generation is mobilizing again. We are rallying, and the message is quite clear: We won’t stop. Not now. Not until we change the world — a common factor of all defining moments.
My generation is tired of the world being wrong and the adults saying it’s OK. Now, we care enough to do something about it. No more playing the damsel.
If our moment won’t be handed to us, we’ll make it ourselves. We don't have a defining moment because we are the defining moment.
The thought of our moment forging on the body of apathy — not because the powers that be decided it, but because we did — is a kind of fire. It’s a fire I see daily at my high school, Buchholz.
I see it in the halls, in class, at lunch in people's eyes. The fire is hope. Not hope the world gave us, but hope of our own design that won’t be satisfied without real change.
I saw this hope in action when around 150 students walked out of Buchholz High School in protest of ICE Feb. 6. They felt the fire of hope, and it was stronger than the fear the Florida administration was levying on them.
We all felt the silent pressure to obey. Yet every single one of them walked out and was written up for it. They didn’t care. We want our moment, and we want more hope. Because in reality, it’s not just hope. It’s also a mixture of unity, awe and power. And now that we’ve gotten a taste of that concoction, we won’t stop. The adults know it.
Truthfully, I think this hope is what makes the adults scared. It's what haunts politicians and billionaires at night. They know that if Gen Z fully rallied against them, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
And truthfully, I think they’re right to be scared, because we aren’t stopping until we get the kind of change that fixes the world. And they know it.
Lucius Amill-Figueroa is a 16-year-old sophomore at Buchholz High School.
