A Treasure in the Depths of Snowflakes
Allow me a brief reflection on the theme of vulnerability and fragility in the younger generation. I was led to this by conversations with our young people.
Když jsme si povídali, mluvili o tom, co trápí, nebo jak vidí svoji generaci. S čím se musí v současné době potýkat, proč jsou tak citliví, někdy padají do sebepoškozování, nebo různých psychických poruch či nemocí. Uvažovala jsem, zda jsou skutečně tak křehcí, nebo o co vlastně jde. Jaký svět je obklopuje. Čemu musí čelit generace Snowflakes.
They are and are not snowflakes. Today’s young people seem to have almost everything. They are overwhelmed by endless possibilities, often by comfort and luxury, and yet somewhere deep inside they feel an emptiness within that abundance. They stand exposed—naked, sensitive, perceptive—before a wounded world, with longing souls, and they cry out.
Is their inner rebellion fragility, or strength? A lie, or truth? Is it the past—or is there, hidden in their cry, a seed of hope for the future? Did our middle generation have to struggle with existential threats, war in Europe, the idea of global conflict, nearly two years of isolation without contact with peers—at an age when human connection is most needed? With the pressure placed on them to succeed, to be better than others, to win? To climb and to make it to the top? Generational competition in which they must prevail, prove they are better than others. Not to fail, not to make a mistake—the very thing contemporary society pushes them toward?
Deep down, young people sense that truth is not to be found in a “unhurt” world of Barbie and Kens. Their more conscious outlook is likely shaped by the openness of today’s societies. Everything is within reach; one can speak openly about almost anything, touch one’s own depth, and ask questions. One can shout, confront accepted norms, and does not have to remain silent, pulling a plough of other people’s expectations like a harnessed horse. One can say they do not want to carry it, ask whether it makes sense, and why they should do it at all. One can speak about wounds caused by upbringing, parents, schools, and society. They want to be taken seriously. They want their opinions, attitudes, and perspectives to matter. They want their voice back—the voice that was taken from them.
At the bottom, a treasure is hidden. Everything these young people have to face—their search for identity, relationships, social pressures, broader societal expectations, global threats and uncertainties, the loss of stability, and the fall into despair—paradoxically gives hope to future generations. In their cry that they do not want to drown, to end up at the bottom, to surrender, lies their strength. The strength of our society and our future is hidden precisely in these dark depths. Because from the bottom, one can only push off and rise again. A person must gather all their strength, courage, and determination—all that makes them who they are—and in a single leap, grasp, and act of stubborn will, push themselves upward. Yet without first descending to the bottom, one would never discover what inner strength, virtues, and richness they carry within themselves, what treasures are hidden inside.
Snowflakes do not melt away. Instead, through the cold, they are strengthened—and rise back up toward the summit.
Through their painful experiences, new things will emerge—in art, pedagogy, healthcare, psychology, philosophy, technology, and many other fields. What they have struggled with will not have to be struggled with by future generations. Through their experience, society moves forward and heals itself. Every young generation shifts something within society, and the “Snowflakes” generation—today’s young people—are shifting deeply internal, existential questions: the meaning of being, identity, inner freedom, boundaries, and responsibility.
In this, I see the hope of our “Snowflakes.” They will rise from their deepest depths, from the most intimate struggle for identity and truth, and transform it into the future—so that life becomes better for people. So that humans may reconnect with themselves, with their lives, desires, hopes, and identities. In this, I see their role: that our future will rise upward on the foundation of their inner struggles. Because light is often found at the very bottom, and darkness paradoxically at the tip of the sharpest light.
Erika Merjavá
