I have been reading a number of blog posts regarding the March 4 day of action protests against the privatization and de-funding of public education across the United States. There is a broad ranging and passionate and often substantive conversation being had amongst students, faculty, and concerned citizens about how to effectively and democratically re-appropriate the educational sphere for the common good. March 4 proved that this issue has the power to unite a wide swath of divergent social elements and actors as hundreds of thousands took to the streets across the US to demand autonomy and justice in education.
We are faced with an eruption that no one can yet explain, an eruption that does not yet have a name. But we need to stop and ask ourselves: how did we get here? And now that we are here, is what is happening at universities across the world something real, a true rupture with the present order?
The 00’s destroyed our dreams. The horror of September 11th in New York was quickly translated into the global horror of the neoconvservative agenda. We saw wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that could not be stopped by millions of people marching in both Washington D.C. and Tehran, in Islamabad and Mumbai, in Palestine and Israel, in Buenos Aires, Tokyo, Lagos and Istanbul. The anti-war movement became our iconic moment of revolt and the living nightmare of defeat.
With environmental devastation looming, no health care and the temerity and fear we learned in the Bush years, the future seemed a grey haze. At the same time, the housing market was booming, invincible. Credit flowed freely. Gas prices decline from the near $4 a gallon we’d seen earlier in the decade. Students had the promise of finding, if not equal prosperity as their parents, something approximating the middle class life they’d grown up in, or seen generations of Americans fight for.
We had two options.
One, we could try to get jobs that might secure that kind of life. But the only people making money were the ones who knew how to cheat the very system that promised a fair chance for all. That’s what the guys at Enron proved to us, what Bernard Madoff’s $65 billion investment scheme proved to us. That’s what real estate agents making a quick buck off of loans they knew would fall through proved to us. And that’s what the CEO’s of banks who gave themselves raises in the midst of the biggest economic downfall since the Great Depression proved to us.
Playing by those rules revolted us.
So we chose to go to school, more because we thought we should than because we knew what we were doing. Some of us went to develop our love of the sciences, the arts, philosophy, politics, and literature. But we knew that these degrees — even in the sciences — didn’t mean we would find a fulfilling job where our skills would be put to their full use. Our degrees held no promise of economic stability or anything more than a stamp on our way towards the next round of education, skills training or a new career.
The economy no longer needed just our bodies, or even a specialized set of knowledge or “intellectual” skills. It needed us to become highly adaptable, more professional, yet more relaxed, more personable, ready to work with people in different parts of the company, newly emerging companies, companies in different countries. This economy needed us to switch careers when jobs moved overseas, shut down or became obsolete to those who hoped to make a profit from us.
It required us to learn how to design web pages in a week or become a “leader” in our office. Fewer of us became the workers caught in the cogs of the machines. We became the baristas who had to smile while we spilled espresso on ourselves, graphic designers who checked our email in between the digitalized images we mistook for our own art, restaurant servers who knew the ins and outs of organic wines we couldn’t afford, dotcomers who worked twelve hour days in our “casual-fun” offices.
To learn the new skills in the university would mean more loans, more work-study jobs or shit jobs in the world and more checks cut to the university itself. It would mean more time in limbo, between the comforts of youth and the promise of a joyous transition into adulthood.
And then in September of 2008 the economy went into freefall.
We lost our jobs, our friends or our parents lost their jobs. We didn’t know how the fuck to pay back credit card debt we’d accumulated in the delirium of the housing bubble. For those of us in school, or thinking of going to school, the cuts to public education annihilated our last illusions of so-called prosperity. The crisis took away all ideas that our generation had a future comparable to that of the last generation.
In 2009 those cuts to public education symptomatic of the 00’s became monstrously visible. In the past few months, we have seen library hours reduced, writing programs shut, tuition raised, cultural services destroyed and schools go on furlough for weeks at a time while funds continue to pour into stadium and police station renovations, the business schools and executive pocketbooks. We have seen office workers on furlough, custodians and service workers laid off.
We are angry but many of us feel powerless. As we have said, the defeat of the anti-war movement and the consequences for those who have had to flee — or stay behind — in Iraq and Afghanistan constitute the fundamental trauma of our generation, acknowledged or not. Traditional activism: marches, rallies, signing petitions, calls to Congress did nothing to stop the right-wing agenda. And while we may have put momentary hope in Obama, and stood in awe as America elected an African American president, we have become increasingly disillusioned by his refusal to fight for health care, environmental standards, for ending the wars abroad, indeed for a better world. (more…)