As I approach my 33rd birthday, I find that there are few things that I’m not familiar with. I was privileged enough to be born into the American middle class as the son of first generation immigrants who earned college degrees in STEM fields after arriving. We lived in the New York Tri-State area which meant that one of the greatest cities in the world was only an hour away, and even as a teenager without a drivers license, you could still do some damage if all you had was some petty cash. (Think Arlene’s Grocery in the East Village or Beauty Bar in Alphabet City)
Fast forward to 25 and that’s basically ten years of experiences that include all the familiar cliches of a middle class American life, plus access to a major city, not to mention paid internships, job prospects, yada yada. On top of that, add a cancer diagnosis, a divorce and 8 more years of life. Add it all up and you get a relatively hefty balance of a life. Few things surprise me anymore. There’s definitely still things that make me do a double-take, but after I regain my senses, whatever just happened usually makes sense and fits into a familiar pattern.
This isn’t the case for the Russian-Ukraine war. I’m probably betraying myself by admitting this, but for the first time in my life, I can feel the weight of a global event and experiencing it in real time is evoking unfamiliar/novel sensations within me. When the planes struck the Twin Towers, I was 12 and had been living in New Jersey for 6 years. I didn’t fully understand what had just happened and what was going on. It was 2001 and we didn’t have a 24 hours news cycle, social media or a richly populated world wide web. As an underachieving, slacker, jock in high school, I didn’t fully grasp or appreciate what was going on in Iraq and Afghanistan, and after the financial crisis of 2008, all I cared about as an undergraduate was meeting women and being gainfully employed after I graduated.
Looking back on everything, I regret being so myopic and shallow, especially because I had to learn a lot of hard lessons (and continue to because of a lack of intelligence and a propensity for risk taking), but I think that’s an honest assessment of my own past. However, I’m not fully committed to self-crucifixion. Most of the writers and thinkers that I enjoy and respect were around the same age when 9/11 happened. When people like them say that 9/11 had changed their lives, I never truly understood what they were saying. Now that I think about it, I’ll have to admit I probably didn’t even come close.
Not only was 9/11 an event that had taken place on American soil, but the people who say that it changed their lives had around 20 years or more to form a worldview that was shattered by the destruction of those buildings. The Russian-Ukraine war is something thats happening thousands of miles away that involve people with whom I have no cultural or historical connection to besides my relationships with Ukrainian or Russian Americans who themselves were born and raised in America. To say that it comes anywhere near 9/11 would be ridiculous, but to say that it gives me a better idea of what it was like for people like Christopher Hitchens, Andrew Sullivan and Paul Rossi to live through 9/11 would be accurate.
I recently met Paul at a dinner where I was a plus one. I asked him about the 90’s and what it was like living through Nirvana, Pavement and Radiohead. Then we talked about Williamsburg in the 2000’s and how glorious all of it was: Union Pool at its peak, Pete’s Candy Store (where Paul’s band played sometimes), and all the other bars and scenes that made it special. The one thing that stayed with me, probably because I found it so enigmatic, was when he interceded the nostalgia conversation to mention that 9/11 changed his life.
I didn’t ask too many questions after he brought it up. Maybe I should’ve. From what I gathered, Paul had an education in mathematics, but a passion for music. After 9/11 he decided to drop math, pursue music and live a bohemian life. It becomes patchy after that, but I imagine somewhere down the line, he gets a job as a math teacher and starts down the path that would eventually led him to whistle-blowing on the woke policies that he felt were crippling the school that he taught at. Then he got cancelled and became a non-person.
Is the Russia-Ukraine War (conflict to some) a life changing event? Surely for the Ukrainians, but what about me? Me, the 32 year old American that considers military history a hobby and prefers the cold and distant viewpoint that it offers instead of the close-to-heart, humanitarian aspect of helplessly sympathizing for a culturally and geographically distant people. What does it mean to experience a foreign war as an adult, or someone who aspires to be a good national and global citizen, a contributor to society, leader in family affairs, and loyal person to those he considers friends?
During my time spent dealing with a chronic illness, I occupied my time by immersing myself in one of my childhood hobbies: military history. I read so many books about World War 2 and The Cold War that I even began reading complete fiction passed as nonfiction, before swinging back to legitimate nonfiction involving Kissinger’s dealings with Russia and China, Robert Kagan’s ideas about America’s place in the world in the 20th century and Arthur Schlesinger Jr’s personal letters during the Cold War. I watched a documentary about the collapse of the Soviet Union and how chaotic it was for Russia before Putin took over and ushered in a period of economic stability and prosperity. Then I watched a documentary about the Crimea conflict which had raw footage of Ukrainian nationals being killed by Russian separatist snipers. I thought about Russia every time I read about how the world was moving toward renewable energy (according to BlackRock and Larry Fink) and what that would mean for Russia’s place in the world as it’s power and influence were waning while they made seemingly unprovoked cyber attacks on American utilities and corporations.
All of this accumulated into my first adult reaction to a global event when Russia began its invasion or military operation (depending on who you ask). I felt sympathy for the Ukrainians who now found themselves in a situation similar to Syrians in 2012. I was relieved when Poland and other eastern NATO nations had begun accepting Ukrainian refugees in humane and hospitable way. I was disappointed at the Biden administration’s poor handling of Afghanistan and it’s lack of support for fracking (c’mon man!). I was worried about further inflation caused by a spike in energy prices and then relieved when I read about OPEC’s plan to gradually increase the production of crude. I remain concerned about Taiwan and look forward to watching how China responds to a 21st century opportunity to detente.
I’ll be following events as closely as possible through all the amazing tools that we have in 2022. I’ll be sensitive to another people’s suffering while trying to continue to live my life as normally as possible. I’ve adopted a position that I found feckless five years ago: supporting a cause through social media and personal behavior. This may be just millennial irrationality and first world privilege, but I think it’s a start that might possibly open up other ways to support a cause. I guess that’s what being an adult during a foreign war in 2022 means for me.
