In Defense of My Lazy and Entitled Generation: An Open Letter to My Elders

Abstract

“What was the best year of your life?” I was recently asked. That’s easy: 2001. My freshman year of college. I spent that year discussing religion and politics over eggs in diners at 2 AM. I found freedom in the simplicity of dorm life, comfort in the company of friends, and happiness in the occasional beverage. I learned to use a charcoal grill and to hit a Wiffle ball, with great reliability, all the way over the bike path to the Tome Science Building. I developed a close personal relationship with the lyrical stylings of Jimmy Buffett, learned that Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven” is the greatest acoustical guitar song ever, and I remember the weather was sunny that entire year. Man, those were my glory days. I did forget, however, about that really bad breakup I had early in the year that left me in a moderate-sized pool of depression and self-pity for several months. And I did get called into my advisor’s office because my grades were so low that I could never be a doctor. I fought with my roommate a lot and was rejected by an alarming number of girls. The Philadelphia Flyers lost in a terrible playoff series. Plus, there was organic chemistry. And I just looked it up: my college town of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, received almost 2 feet of rain that year. Now, as I conclude my freshmen year as a faculty member, I listen to similar stories from my medical elders about the glory days of medicine when doctors were doctors and patient care was all that mattered and everyone loved the hard work and nobody ever complained. I’m told that my generation has a poor work ethic, cares too little, expects too much, and is too lazy to read …