Indecision
Article written by John Moyer
Following two weeks at home I arrived in Chiapas with a new sense of purpose, something that was failing me when I went home in early October. I feel as if I’ve gained a clearer understanding of my motivations and those of some fellow Peace House volunteers. But what had changed during my two weeks home?
I hadn't experienced culture shock, nor disgust with American excess, ignorance, or arrogance -- common reactions of many expats when they return home. Rather, I enjoyed being back in the states. While there is no shortage of extremely frustrating, hard-headed citizens who refuse to admit the obvious (I argued with someone who contended that, without a doubt, humankind has played no part in global climate change), I still love it. It’s my home.
What accounted for my new sense of purpose was the advice of a good friend to read Indecision by Benjamin Kunkel. Two days later, this first-time novelist felt like a new friend.
Kunkel, somehow -- and I’m still trying to figure out how he does it -- manages to draw the reader into a serious discussion about the meaning of life with an absolutely hilarious story of a confused, 28-year-old, white American male. I laughed out loud the whole way through. When I finished, I turned back to page one and started again. Now I’m defining my own recent experiences by what I read. How the heck did he do that?
As my friend pointed out, Kunkel has given a generation -- of privileged, under/over-educated, dot com, 9/11 white urban and suburban twenty something’s -- its very own coming of age story. My peers and I have read those of prior generations, and looked on with glazed eyes as authors described how World War II, the Cold War, the moon landing, Vietnam, and Woodstock defined their generations and showed them exactly what to do with their lives. Now we have our own such tale, and appropriately enough, it’s damn funny. It’s a tale of confusion, impulse, love, travel, and eventually, self-discovery. It’s full of sex, drugs, self-deprecation, and the most insightful commentary on our demographic that I’ve ever read.
Kunkel lays it out clearly. Our prosperity has provided us with so many damn choices that we spend years trying them on, testing them out, floating around without committing to any of them. But, those of us who actually commit to a career in our early twenties without succumbing to the temptation of several more years in academia, traveling, or job-hopping in search of that elusive project that truly makes us feel fulfilled, are actually taking what Kunkel portrays as the easy road. We step into a cushy, well-paying, office job in some major American city, most of us serving as another cog in the machine of neoliberal capitalism, and ignore the conditions in the majority of the world. In fact, how can you not ignore the horrors of war, poverty, and disease caused by rampant global injustice? If you acknowledge them, you’re bound to spend your days feeling sad, angry, or downright defeated. By the end of his journey, Kunkel’s main character says otherwise. And, he does so quite convincingly. Rather than try to explain his magic, I’m just going to give you a taste:
One main effort of my life is to try not to spoil my own mood. Currently the party line I give myself, and do in part believe, is that what’s happiest is just to be alive and sensitive when it comes to feeling the world, and if what your senses, honed beyond usefulness, end up registering is so much suffering out there that you become light-headed with it at times- well, those senses can still be used for extracting pleasures from fruits, nuts, beverages of all kinds, words on a page, a loved mammal in your arms, music (including sad kinds), and anyway this is only the tip of a list anyone could assemble. I know my list is basic but maybe to utter banalities is a type of solidarity in these lonelifying times?
Amen to that. You don’t have to ignore the horrible things in the world to enjoy life.
Not only can you be aware of inequalities and injustices, but you can take it a step further, and apply yourself to their correction. In turn, you may just find the personal fulfillment that we all seek, but so few of us seem to find.
Once I really wrapped my arms around what Kunkel was saying, I realized just how right he really is. The Peace House testifies to this. In my three months in Chiapas working with the Peace House, what I’m going to call Kunkel’s positivist activist is exactly what I have encountered.
CPH volunteers, many of whom are American and European twenty something’s from relatively privileged backgrounds, are members of an extremely socially conscious segment of our generation, eager to educate themselves about the lives of people the world over, and more importantly, work in solidarity with those people towards the goal of global justice. But, they are not overwhelmed and discouraged by the suffering and inequality that they discover during their ventures. Rather, they are a fun-loving group that realizes that you don’t have to hide from the truth to enjoy life.
In reality, you can do just the opposite. Be aware. Be appalled. Get involved. But, be happy too.
People back home so often ask me, “Why do you want to go work in Mexico? Why don’t you just get a job here?” Now I can just hand them Kunkel’s book. They’ll likely find the answers to their questions between Indecision’s covers. They might just find a few laughs as well.
Following two weeks at home I arrived in Chiapas with a new sense of purpose, something that was failing me when I went home in early October. I feel as if I’ve gained a clearer understanding of my motivations and those of some fellow Peace House volunteers. But what had changed during my two weeks home?
I hadn't experienced culture shock, nor disgust with American excess, ignorance, or arrogance -- common reactions of many expats when they return home. Rather, I enjoyed being back in the states. While there is no shortage of extremely frustrating, hard-headed citizens who refuse to admit the obvious (I argued with someone who contended that, without a doubt, humankind has played no part in global climate change), I still love it. It’s my home.
What accounted for my new sense of purpose was the advice of a good friend to read Indecision by Benjamin Kunkel. Two days later, this first-time novelist felt like a new friend.
Kunkel, somehow -- and I’m still trying to figure out how he does it -- manages to draw the reader into a serious discussion about the meaning of life with an absolutely hilarious story of a confused, 28-year-old, white American male. I laughed out loud the whole way through. When I finished, I turned back to page one and started again. Now I’m defining my own recent experiences by what I read. How the heck did he do that?
As my friend pointed out, Kunkel has given a generation -- of privileged, under/over-educated, dot com, 9/11 white urban and suburban twenty something’s -- its very own coming of age story. My peers and I have read those of prior generations, and looked on with glazed eyes as authors described how World War II, the Cold War, the moon landing, Vietnam, and Woodstock defined their generations and showed them exactly what to do with their lives. Now we have our own such tale, and appropriately enough, it’s damn funny. It’s a tale of confusion, impulse, love, travel, and eventually, self-discovery. It’s full of sex, drugs, self-deprecation, and the most insightful commentary on our demographic that I’ve ever read.
Kunkel lays it out clearly. Our prosperity has provided us with so many damn choices that we spend years trying them on, testing them out, floating around without committing to any of them. But, those of us who actually commit to a career in our early twenties without succumbing to the temptation of several more years in academia, traveling, or job-hopping in search of that elusive project that truly makes us feel fulfilled, are actually taking what Kunkel portrays as the easy road. We step into a cushy, well-paying, office job in some major American city, most of us serving as another cog in the machine of neoliberal capitalism, and ignore the conditions in the majority of the world. In fact, how can you not ignore the horrors of war, poverty, and disease caused by rampant global injustice? If you acknowledge them, you’re bound to spend your days feeling sad, angry, or downright defeated. By the end of his journey, Kunkel’s main character says otherwise. And, he does so quite convincingly. Rather than try to explain his magic, I’m just going to give you a taste:
One main effort of my life is to try not to spoil my own mood. Currently the party line I give myself, and do in part believe, is that what’s happiest is just to be alive and sensitive when it comes to feeling the world, and if what your senses, honed beyond usefulness, end up registering is so much suffering out there that you become light-headed with it at times- well, those senses can still be used for extracting pleasures from fruits, nuts, beverages of all kinds, words on a page, a loved mammal in your arms, music (including sad kinds), and anyway this is only the tip of a list anyone could assemble. I know my list is basic but maybe to utter banalities is a type of solidarity in these lonelifying times?
Amen to that. You don’t have to ignore the horrible things in the world to enjoy life.
Not only can you be aware of inequalities and injustices, but you can take it a step further, and apply yourself to their correction. In turn, you may just find the personal fulfillment that we all seek, but so few of us seem to find.
Once I really wrapped my arms around what Kunkel was saying, I realized just how right he really is. The Peace House testifies to this. In my three months in Chiapas working with the Peace House, what I’m going to call Kunkel’s positivist activist is exactly what I have encountered.
CPH volunteers, many of whom are American and European twenty something’s from relatively privileged backgrounds, are members of an extremely socially conscious segment of our generation, eager to educate themselves about the lives of people the world over, and more importantly, work in solidarity with those people towards the goal of global justice. But, they are not overwhelmed and discouraged by the suffering and inequality that they discover during their ventures. Rather, they are a fun-loving group that realizes that you don’t have to hide from the truth to enjoy life.
In reality, you can do just the opposite. Be aware. Be appalled. Get involved. But, be happy too.
People back home so often ask me, “Why do you want to go work in Mexico? Why don’t you just get a job here?” Now I can just hand them Kunkel’s book. They’ll likely find the answers to their questions between Indecision’s covers. They might just find a few laughs as well.
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