In the spring of 2000, I was in a government seminar class during my senior year in college. Other than the fact the class was being taught by Centre College’s legendary Dr. Larry Matheny, the class was great because it was small, we knew each other well and it was more discussion than anything.
During that discussion one day, it was brought up that people tend to become more cynical with age, with that progression hitting a hyperdrive in a person’s 40s. One of my good friends immediately said, “God help anyone who’s around Druen in 20 years!” Cue the laughter from the rest of the class.
Admittedly, I have a somewhat cynical inclination. I tend to search for the underlying motives behind peoples’ words and actions, constantly analyzing who stands to gain and by what means. As a result, I approach most situations with a certain level of skepticism, recognizing that people often attempt to influence others towards their perspective, regardless of the circumstances.
Unfortunately, in this regard, I’m rarely wrong. We live in an era when if something seems too good to be true, it typically is. And, when faced with something that sounds great, our immediate reaction is typically “What’s the catch?” rather than assuming anything is done in an altruistic manner. How did we get this way? Children aren’t born cynical, but it develops over time.
Many, myself included, often want to blame something bigger than ourselves. Mass media, social media, the “invisible hand” of a free-market economy … these are all faceless, soulless entities that exist and, while provide much positive for our lives, also keep us saturated in reasons to be skeptical. These are not abstract constructs thrust upon us though. Each is the
product of people; people, who we care to admit it or not, are like you and me. As the great philosopher Pogo Possum famously said, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”
While I would argue a touch of cynicism is healthy, an overdose can lead to unhealthy situations where we have thoughts, a la Marshawn Lynch, of where “I’m gon’ get mine more than I get got.” There is an antidote though. And, more often than not, I find that antidote is being around young people.
Recently, as a member of the Lafayette Chapter, I attended the spring meeting of the Kentucky Society of the Sons of the American Revolution. The room was full of approximately sixty middle-aged to elderly men. What hair there was, was almost exclusively gray. On face value, you would expect it to be a crowd nostalgic for matinees, cheap gas and fearful of what the “kids” are doing these days to ruin society; basically the same echo chamber you find drinking coffee at 90% of McDonalds each morning. And you would be dead wrong.
I was in the minority as a first-time attendee, so most of the men in that room already knew what I was about to learn. Towards the end of the meeting was the state competition for the Joseph S. Rumbaugh Historical Oration Contest. The contestants speak for five to six minutes, with no notes, on a topic related to the American Revolution. The room was captivated as Cayden Dunn (Warren County), Ariel Fader (Boone County) and Luke Griesser (Scott County) proceeded to knock our socks off. Hearing these students, none of whom were even seniors, speak about General Henry Knox, Phillis Wheatley and the United States Constitution and relate each to our modern society was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Each had a sense of poise and purpose, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The competition was great for the students, but what they didn’t understand was it was necessary for the rest of us.
See, I’m convinced that cynics are all romantics. We have a grand vision for both ourselves and our communities. We know what is possible if the naysayers and the individualists didn’t get in the way. Those are the tormentors of the cynic. The cynic wants what is best, but knows it is impossible. In short, we are optimists who have had our hearts broken, time and again.
Peter Senge, an expert in organizational management, once said, “Scratch the surface of most cynics and you find a frustrated idealist — someone who made the mistake of converting his ideals into expectations.”
As those expectations fall flat, I’ll admit that its sometimes calming to think it would be easier to just stop caring. Huddling in a corner with a good book and some candy could make the rest of the world’s problems disappear. But then you meet people like Cadyn, Ariel and Luke. Not only do you leave feeling better about yourself, but you know that the world will be alright long after you are gone.
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Tommy Druen is a syndicated columnist who resides in Georgetown, Kentucky. He can be reached at tommydruen@gmail.com.