Speaking from the furthest edge of Gen X, my peers and I couldn’t fathom changing the world in our 20s. We grew up and entered adulthood during some tough years. We had bigger worries. Like finding jobs.
And frankly, we had seen how the whole world-changing thing had worked out for Boomers.
“Changing the world” as goal? That pressure might be unbearable.
Instead, I’d invite a different view.
Somewhere in there, he also learned to play the guitar.
David Bowie had a serious arts education. He started playing in bands in his teens, and studied dance, mime and theatre. In his early 20s, he imagined himself into an astronaut’s spacesuit, and “Space Oddity” was released to coincide with the 1969 moon landing.
Two children followed their curiosity, passion, and hearts. With rigor and discipline. More than 40 years later, millions of micro-decisions resulted in a most unlikely collaboration between artist and astronaut.
“Space Oddity” could have been a moon-landing novelty that passed from public consciousness. (Remember Tang, or ball-point pens that write when upside down?)
Instead, Major Tom endures.
Maybe because he speaks to the combination of futility and hope we all feel about our work. Even astronauts!
That’s empathy. It’s a universal human quality. A quality we often explore through the arts.
Millions of kids have now seen Chris Hadfield embody Major Tom. One day, one of these children may step foot on Mars.
That’s world changing.
But 40 years ago, it’s hard to imagine Bowie or Hadfield — or their parents and teachers — envisioning this outcome. Could this result have been a goal?
We’re all creating the world. Every single day. With our families. With our co-workers and friends. With each person who handed us our coffee this morning, or held the elevator door for us.
Changing the world isn’t a goal. It’s a result.
Instead, create the world. One day at a time. One act at a time.
Make art, or study it. Teach, or support a teacher. Practice empathy.
Just like Bowie and Hadfield, you can do all of this through your work.
And then let’s check in 40 years down the road. That’s when we’ll see how it all turns out.