What Happened to We The People?

Todd Metrokin is an advertising and design Creative Director and Co-Chair of GLOV - DC's GLBT Anti-Violence Task Force.

I recently attended the Richard Avedon exhibit at the Corcoran and was struck by the larger-than-life portraits of unkempt activists and smirking politicos of the 60s and early 70s. The Chicago Seven, the Black Panthers, correspondents from the front lines of the Vietnam War—history illustrated large on the wall and a better synopsis of the turbulent era than any Wikipedia entry. After living in room after room with these passionate faces, I couldn't help but wonder who from my generation might one day grace these walls? Who are the current radicals? I couldn't think of one.

At some point after that period, it seems showing conviction to one's ideals became passe or worse, it now prompts sneers and punchlines. Having passion for a cause became wed to the maniacal and idealism to the juvenile. We lost hope and laughed at anyone who had it. In DC, it's perhaps easier to understand the jaded but this is a national epidemic of apathy and scorn. How and why? Is it just the inevitable fall after the powerful high reached by young activists of the 60s or a more methodical effort to disengage the public from the process of governing by a rattled federal institution? We'll never know. Both sides of the 60s protests made painful mistakes. Democracy, it was once said, is messy. Perhaps that's the reason for our current state. We're scared to get a little dirty. It's hard work that takes everyone's effort and no amount of Purell will make it easier or safer. Protest and you may get your picture posted in the blogosphere. Raise your voice and you may get heard on YouTube by potential employers. But so what? What are we scared of people?

We've allowed ourselves to get to this point—where conglomerates outmaneuver their own employees, federal spending goes unchecked, and our constitution is edited at the convenience of our elected officials. And no matter what his slogan says, Obama can't give us hope. He can only inspire. We have to find it ourselves and support our neighbors who have the guts to show us theirs by doing something with it.

The last portrait in the Avedon exhibit is befittingly that of then-Senator Barack Obama. It hangs near the door as if to leave us with the challenge to contemplate our near future. A milestone has been achieved, yes. But who else will deserve to be up on this wall? Who will have exhibited passion and determination in the face of public ridicule, who may make a mistake and even fail but still have tried because it does matter? Who will have been brave enough to endure this close-up lens, showing all their imperfections so that we may see the true face of democracy?