By Dr. Curtis Varnell
The late 1960’s and the early 1970’s was not an easy time for kids growing up, even in Arkansas. The Vietnam war was winding down but one would hardly realize that from the horrific news broadcast live from the front. Those graduating from school awaited the dreaded draft notices detailing the order of selection for a free vacation in S.E. Asia. Closer to home, race riots in Watts, Boston, and Chicago spoke of the civil unrest due to discrimination and inequality in America. Teens, encouraged by activists like Timothy O’Leary to “turn on, tune in, and drop out,” did just that, becoming a part of the “hippie” generation.
Small town Arkansas was behind the times but rapidly catching as I reached high school. Traveling to Fort Smith, we passed a want to be hippie lying beside the highway with thumb in the air and large sign posted beside him stating California or bust. My dad, not a man of the time, distastefully stated, “A bum to lazy to stand is already a bust.” Dad, a product of the fabulous fifties, viewed any man with long hair, beard, and no job as a derelict. It was an attitude commonly shared in much of the state.
As Bob Dylan famously stated, “The times, they were a changing.” By 1969, there was a noticeable increase in the length of the boy’s hair and the diminishing length in the dresses worn by the girls. The mini skirt, more than anything else, contributed to girls being allowed to wear pants to school. Most teachers figured that even tight pants created far less lust than did dresses eight inches above the knee. A few daring souls discovered pot could mean more than a cooking utensil. Introduced to even greater change when starting college in the fall of 1971, ATU had a few radicals protesting the war, trying the new synthetic drug LSD, and quite a gathering of Jesus people. Wearing hippie clothing, carrying Bibles and guitars with cases sporting peace signs and slogans, they meet in the old gym to sing songs and worship. A couple years later, we even had a “streaking’ night when a bunch of guys shucked their clothing and ran down old El Paso street bare footed all over. What was the world and generation coming to???
“Our youth love luxury. They have bad manners and despise authority. They show disrespect for their elders and love to chatter instead of exercise. Young people are now tyrants, not the servants of their household.” Sound like a description of the youth of the hippie generation? Actually, that was a description of youth written by Socrates (469–399 B.C.E.). Because times change, customs change, and styles change, people of every generation often view the next generation as “heading to hell in a handbasket.”
My generation, the hippie’s generation, were responsible for the growth of the computer, internet, cell phones, rock and roll music, and even solar panels. They own and control a significant amount of wealth and manage many of the major industries. Although known as a liberal and radical generation, many of them have become conservative Republicans in old age, a complete turn-around from their youth. Even though some were complete failures, most grew up to be soccer moms, hard-working dads, and the people who make up the back-bone of this great nation.
I hear the same things about kids of this generation. Disrespectful, tattoo’s all over them with ears and noses plugged with rings, and orange hair- our country cannot survive. I also hear the lament, often true, that all they want to do is text message and play video games. Judging a science fair in Waldron, I was introduced to a young lady who had developed a computer program. Enthusiastically, she explained the algorithms that composed the program. Feeding text into the program, the computer provided the Lexile (student reading level), described the genre of the book, and indicated the group of people most likely to read the book. With two master’s and a Ph.D., she still lost me about half-way through the description. A fifth grader at Greenwood showed me the robot he developed. His mother was irritated that he could never remember to close his closet door. No problem, after five minutes, his robot kicked in and done it for him. At Vilonia last week, a student walking across the school lawn saw me struggling with a bulky box. Next thing I knew, I had help from he and two others carrying my load. I could describe more; kids from Marvel, from Mills Middle school in Little Rock, and from across the state.
It’s a generational thing. We will get along quite well as a society with the kids of today!
