The Class of 2023 Belongs to No Political Party
Last week, I had the pleasure and honor of congratulating nearly two dozen of my advisees as they walked across the stage at Sarah Lawrence College to receive their diplomas. It was a bittersweet moment. My cohort survived the chaos of the pandemic; from the frantic conversations we shared in March 2020 to the countless Zoom, FaceTime, and text exchanges we had during the lockdowns and beyond, this truly was a special group.
As the COVID-19 pandemic swept across the nation and the world, my students and I grew remarkably close. Over the following two years, we entered each other's lives in unprecedented ways. Some students played virtual games with my son and shared their toys with him. I even had the joy of meeting and connecting with many of their families and pets, catching glimpses of their homes and occasionally their neighbors and communities.
The pandemic brought us closer together and taught me valuable lessons about my Gen Z college students. Instead of maintaining a professional distance, I saw them as genuine individuals who were pragmatic and thoughtful, rejecting simplistic labels about others. They were eager to learn, listen, and form their own opinions. While my students may not represent the norm as undergraduates from Sarah Lawrence College—a school known for its liberal activism and progressive political approach—they were nonetheless reasonable and thoughtful young adults.
From my extensive work with the Class of 2023, I gleaned three important lessons. Firstly, traditional political labels do not apply to most students. Although my students strongly disliked Donald Trump, they had reservations about Joe Biden as well. They expressed the view that various levels of government should improve the lives of Americans, but they believed that many government entities were either too large, ineffective, or incapable.
Political parties did not resonate with my students; they viewed them as hopeless. They held little interest in the Democrats and had no affinity for the Republicans. According to surveys, 43% believe that neither party is ready to enact the necessary reforms for our country, while around a quarter of students express support for either the Republican (24%) or Democratic (23%) party as the most capable party. Among Democratic students, 53% believe in their party's ability to lead, compared to 63% of Republicans who favor the GOP.
Secondly, my students rejected the pervasive labels that diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) offices often assign to them. They recoiled at the notion of saying, "As a person of this race or gender," finding it reductionist and prejudiced, despite the prevalence of identity politics on social media. They resisted being told how to define themselves, emphasizing that this fixation on labels, which implies harm to certain groups, fragments the broader community, erodes intimacy, and ultimately causes destruction.
Moreover, my students felt burdened by the need to make extreme choices, a phenomenon that Eboo Patel observed at Sarah Lawrence. After a large, formulaic, and disruptive protest, Patel engaged with some students and discovered conformity and self-censorship. One student protestor confessed that the protesting group did not fully represent her in terms of substance and style. She acknowledged participating in actions during the protest that conflicted with her own identity, including being rude to teachers and other educational leaders, in her effort to support minority identities.
When Patel asked why students supported the protest if they felt misrepresented in their attitudes and ideas, the student explained that they were pressured to take a firm stance, fearing repercussions for deviating from the norm. Challenging or questioning the approach risked being "Sarah Lawrenced"—a dreaded form of cancellation within the college campus.
Lastly, my students possessed a profound curiosity. Having grown up in a world of political turmoil and digital chaos, they had a strong desire to comprehend social dynamics. When I introduced conservative ideas in class, no one objected; they embraced viewpoints from both the left and right. When I invited Charles Murray and Arthur Brooks to join my seminars, there was no protest; everyone attended, engaged, questioned, and absorbed the different perspectives that are not typically found on campus. My students consistently rejected the notion of cancel culture and, like their Gen Z peers, take pride in their tolerance of others with differing beliefs. They welcome having their views challenged and strive to see the world from someone else's perspective.
Undoubtedly, socio-political events of the past few years occasionally influenced my students' discourse and mood. However, contrary to the portrayal by many in the mass media, my students were neither extremists nor ideologues. When one has the privilege of truly getting to know one’s students, as the pandemic allowed me to do, labels fade away, and we see that most college students today are on a quest to better understand themselves and the world around them.
Labels obscure rather than unveil the complexity inherent in each student; and that runs counter to what should be happening in a collegiate setting. Administrators, faculty members, pundits, and politicians should take note.
