Recently I found myself in uncommon circumstances-on a car ride with an 8 year old girl. She smiled a lot and talked even more while her long brown hair danced back and forth as if afraid to rest for too long on her shoulders. I hardly know her, but in less than thirty minutes I had grown to love her. In spite of my affection, her oration offered a terrible insight into our culture and struck me with sadness. Don’t let me get ahead of myself though.
School shopping was the latest adventure of my young friend and the main topic of discussion. She told me about Hannah Montana shirts she bought-five of them. Next were her Hannah Montana jeans-three pair. Apparel could be accessorized with Hannah Montana pencils, folders and shoes. My opinion of Miley Cyrus aside, I was astounded at her desire to identify herself with the name ‘Hannah Montana.’ Like an American flag pin (worn or not), it was clear where her allegiance lay-an army of one, bearing the emblem of a pop star who would never know her personally.
I realized that this brown-eyed whirlwind just wanted to feel like she was ‘someone’ in the sea of humanity that is 3rd grade. Even at the elementary school level she sought acceptance (which is part of being human) but was sampling a lifestyle where she would continually define herself by the flavor of the week. As Hannah Montana becomes passé she will add a pinch of color and a dash of magic to define herself by some new temporal entity. Each time she will be seeking something that is unattainable through material possession.
Initial steps on this path will eventually come to a dead-end unless a new Way can be blazed that embraces life. I had forgotten the power and subtlety with which our culture leads us along winding trails to nowhere while we seek to end our inner lostness. What is most sad to me, is that my young friend is only one of millions beginning this trek.
No comments:
Post a Comment