I am ill. Sick. Not sick as in vomiting, which is what that word means in England. This is not England. I have a cold. I have not been this sick in almost five years.

The last time I had my morning walk was a week ago. I have been outside the house once since last Thursday, that was to visit the Walk-In Clinic in Seaside. My lungs and ears and sinuses are clear. I have a bad cold, a fever, major congestion, and until I took the NP’s prescribed Cherratussin (generic Robutissin) Sunday night, I had not slept more than an hour or two at a time for several days. The NP told me to go home, stay home, and get some rest. She capped it. REST.

Yes, I am become an old person talking about health.

My country is not so very healthy either, but there are hopeful signs. Gillette announced their new slogan is not about the best a man can get, but the best a man can be. See it for yourself. If you judged the content of the PSA by the outraged, even hysterical responses posted by a tiny but highly vocal minority of men, you would think it was an emasculating horror. Instead, even a former student who declares himself “a harsh critic of feminism” finds it perfectly reasonable. So do I. As another man I do not even know tweeted: “It’s about balance. No one is suggesting men can’t be men. It’s about being a good person as a man. Historical behavior is no longer in tune with today’s equality. You can be a tough guy, a manly man but still a man with values and appropriate behavior to help guide your kids.”

A friend posted: “I think some object to the idea that there is even a problem that needs to be addressed, and if that isn’t privilege, I don’t know what is.”

The first really powerful statement I read of the need for men to be the change was written by a man.

Times change. I am frequently asked how students have changed since I began teaching. I suppose I most object to the assumption that teenagers have changed. Teenagers are people, just like everyone. They come from a variety of backgrounds, have suffered a variety traumas, are blessed with a variety of natural gifts and of earned ones. They are teenagers—pinched between childhood and adulthood. It is still a terrible time where individuals enjoy little power, suffer screaming hormones, and possess no clear sense of what is coming. I was not a particularly happy teenager, and like students even today, I was assured this was the best time of my life and I should be enjoying it! Dear heavens, you mean it’s all down hill from here? I knew it for a lie, and I frequently assure my students that this is probably not the best time of their life. They look relieved when I say that. They are not so different. There are few changes. They are people. Sometimes they are dense as bricks and sometimes they are scared.

They have cell phones.

At my school, the economic advantages of some are not more marked than they were 40 years ago when I first subbed for my own former Junior High School Science teacher. Perhaps the bigotry of some is more openly condemned? Perhaps they are more aware of injustice? Perhaps they are less likely to avoid coming to school because of bullying?

Perhaps not? But perhaps.

As I say, I am ill today, my ramblings are not reliable. My personal list of grievances and gripes is long, but I will not rant. We all have our disappointments.

So here is what I think about my students. My students are not snowflakes. They are not fragile flowers. They need to be more curious. They need more skepticism and less cynicism. They need critical thinking skills. Someone should convince them that not all parents or teachers or politicians are right or even their enemies. Something should matter to them more than games and sport. They should read enough news to understand it. They should have moral goals and beautiful dreams and they should work hard to see those dreams bloom.

It’s a lot to ask, but they are strong. They need the confidence that genuine accomplishment can give. They are young to have that.