“lazy, entitled, disrespectful” — Them? Or us?
As a Military Training Instructor, my job was multi-faceted, to be sure. I had to be a teacher, disciplinarian, facilitator, mentor, role model, and arbitrator to young men and women whose ages range from 17 to 39. I served as a father figure to some, supervisor to others, and authority figure to all. These 50–60 young adults were thrust into a melting pot of diversity — complete with cultural, socioeconomic, educational, and language barriers. I had seven and a half weeks to identify their individual strengths and weaknesses, biases, religious beliefs, stereotypes, and a host of other variables that could impact their decision-making and overall ability to adapt to military life. My trainees came from both ends of the spectrum — from privilege and wealth to living on the streets. There were athletes, academics, gamers, loners, orphans, and twins, and they come from the heartland, the farm, the inner city, and from countries around the globe.
As I tried to organize each new “flight” of trainees, I had to display an ever-present sense of integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all I do, for every move was watched if not scrutinized by my trainees. They were looking for flaws, inconsistencies, and any reason at all to have zero respect for me or the other leaders on our base. It was a fascinating, exhilarating, and exhausting challenge, and it kept me grounded in the tremendous responsibility I had to them, their parents, and our nation.
We’ve heard a lot about millennials and their “lazy, entitled, disrespectful, self-absorbed attitudes.” We had candid discussions about their reputation and whether or not they bought into the negative image so many seemed to have for GenX and GenY.
Interesting is that a consistent statement I heard from these soon-to-be-Airmen is that they wanted discipline, boundaries, and held accountable by those they held dear — their parents, guardians, teachers, and other adult role models. Indeed, I had been told by more than a few trainees on different occasions that they had waning respect for adults because they felt that the adults in their lives allowed them too much freedom and too little accountability.
I set clear, consistent, and measurable expectations for the flight and the individuals in it. “Here is the expected behavior. Here are the consequences for failure to comply, and if there are no questions, you control your own destiny” was a common moniker of mine. My trainees knew that if I said “X” would happen if “Y” was not accomplished, they could stake their lives on it. If I did not follow up and follow-through, I would have certainly lost the flight’s respect, and they would have shut down.
In other conversations, these young adults, many just out of high school, actually complained that they were never held accountable in school. They lamented that too often, they could get away with almost anything and that, by and large, the adults acted as though they were powerless to intervene. As one young man confided, “we did whatever we wanted, and no one ever even tried to stop us — like they were scared of us or something. Like they don’t care. If you don’t care, then why should we care?”
I began to think that the notion that “their fragile little ego” was part of the problem. I interacted with literally thousands of young men and women in my role as their Drill Sergeant, and the theme was consistent and universal — they wish someone would have cared enough to hold them accountable more often. They wanted to know that there existed a set boundary and that they could go right up to that line, kick it, shake it, and try to move it, and only when they felt confident that those boundaries would not yield, they would begin to feel safe.
I think about teachers who describe the chaos of a “meltdown” in the classroom, where they are instructed to back away instead of assertively intervene. When I hear about “quiet places” and “safe places” and a host of other hands-off approaches to behavior issues in school, I begin to wonder — are we going the wrong way?
As Brene’ Brown states in her book Dare to Lead, “clear is kind, unclear is unkind.” What this means is that if we are not setting clear expectations and holding our children accountable to those expectations, we are unclear in our messaging, which leads to frustration for all. Did you ever work for a boss who had “squishy” expectations — never quite knowing what was expected of you? The chances are that created apathy and frustration for you and your coworkers.
Today’s children are incredibly intelligent, inquisitive, and connected to their world. They are not lazy; the adults in their lives that fail to hold them accountable are. They are not entitled; they instead question inconsistency and become frustrated with mixed messaging. They are not disrespectful; they just lose respect for those adults who do not hold themselves to the standards they set for those around them. And they are certainly not self-absorbed; they are protecting themselves from a world where the adults demand kindness while at the same time eviscerate other adults on social media.
What I think I know about our children is this — I think sometimes they are more adult than the adults. But know this; they are watching, they are learning — from us. How we conduct ourselves and how we set expectations and hold accountability leaves a lasting impression — one way or the other.
