“Pull out a piece of paper. Write your name. Then in a few sentences, quickly summarize Article II of the Constitution, then the Fourth, Fifth, and Fourteenth Amendments.” Ah, crap. I stared blankly at my paper for a few seconds before scribbling something down about self-incrimination and the Civil War, turning in a mostly blank sheet. I couldn’t help but laugh. Even the little that I was able to write down was not the result of a lengthy study of the American Constitution, but a deep-seated appreciation for “Law and Order” and “The Good Wife.” Looking around at the blank faces of Jonathan Cole’s Law, Science, and Society seminar, I got the feeling that I was not alone. The future leaders of America, everyone!
Needless to say, the Constitution was immediately downloaded onto both my Kindle and Blackberry, but the damage to my pride had already been done. For someone who likes to think of himself as versed in political affairs (I work for the Columbia Political Review and have a half-hearted affiliation with Columbia University College Republicans), this was a gaffe of Christine O’Donnell proportions. Clearly, neither my classmates nor I had spent enough time in front of our nation’s founding document. Episodes like the one I just recounted are not unusual. During my AP Government class in high school, our teacher once handed out a U.S. citizenship test for a quiz—only one person passed. This was disturbing, to say the least, and it’s not an isolated incident; knowledge about how our government works and who runs it is a low priority for today’s students. Not only is familiarity with civics and government lacking, we have a demonstrated apathy towards the political process in general.
Just look at student involvement with groups on campus. The latest attempt by CUCR to rouse public attention was greeted by little more than a half-hearted shrug by the Columbia University Democrats and a Spectator editorial. The dozen or so people that made up the motley crew of Occupy Columbia was remarkable only in a comedic sense. Have we given up on civic engagement?
If that is the case, it’s understandable. We grew up in arguably the most dysfunctional political era since the end of the Civil War. Born in the early ’90s, our earliest memories are of a triumphant West, the Pax Americana fulfilled. But we came of age in the 2000s, a period characterized by political gridlock, two overseas wars, and out-of-control public spending—our inheritance from the Greatest Generation. It hardly seems surprising that we’re more than a little tired of it all, of the two-year political pendulum that sweeps a different party every election cycle, of the unfulfilled campaign promises, and of the empty rhetoric. The only thing that seems to connect our two parties is a desire to erode public trust in government further. And we’re over it. For all of the millions spent trying to get the “youth vote,” it has proven as elusive as ever. Simply put, we are tired of trying to engage a system that has little interest in engaging us.
It seems that a day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear someone complain that today’s Columbia students don’t care as much as they used to. By care, I assume they mean we no longer hold teachers hostage in Low Library or take a stand for “equality” by trespassing on a park downtown. But I can see their point. Like the rest of the United States, we are much less likely to engage in politics to the same extent that our parents and grandparents did. Part of this has to do with timing: We didn’t have to grow up with the sociopolitical upheaval of the draft and the civil rights movement. But I suspect that part of this has to do with the general lack of interest we feel toward the democratic process. Most of the time, the ship of the American political process seems lost, drifting without a rudder. I cannot blame people for not caring who is turning the wheel.
But caring is our obligation. The problems our country faces are long-term: high systemic unemployment, decreased social mobility, and a broken public education system. Somehow the wealthiest nation in the history of the world has run out of money. No one said fixing these problems would be easy; they will require smart, young people who can bring smart, fresh solutions. We have a responsibility to provide those solutions, if only because no one else will.
Andrew Godinich is a Columbia College junior majoring in sociology and Portuguese studies. He is the Latin America and Caribbean affairs correspondent for the Columbia Political Review. Too Be Frank runs alternate Thursdays.

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