Social media and politics are negatively impacting the youth

Despite over six weeks of investigation into Thomas Matthew Crooks’ life, the FBI is still puzzled about his motives for attempting to assassinate Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump in July.

The country has moved forward: President Biden declined to run for re-election, both Republicans and Democrats held their national conventions, and Kamala Harris managed to turn around a presidential election cycle that Trump appeared destined to win.

Now, students like myself are returning to colleges and universities, where upcoming rounds of campus protests are expected to be fueled by election fervor. 

There is little information available on why a 20-year-old like Crooks would attempt to assassinate the former president. However, individuals of my age group do not need to ponder this. 

Similar to many Americans, I was appalled by Crooks’ actions, but they were not shocking. Due to emotional appeals from educators and extreme messaging on social media, our generation has been exposed to dangerous political rhetoric for almost half of our lives.

We do not require confirmation from FBI investigators to understand what seems obvious to us: Classroom echo chambers and social media are pushing disillusioned young individuals towards extremist acts that would have been unimaginable a generation ago. And unfortunately, more incidents are likely to follow.

I recall my initial exposure to politics: I walked into a somber classroom on November 9, 2016, right after Donald Trump was declared president-elect. Teachers and the principal organized a “town hall” to give us – clueless 7th-graders from Brooklyn – the chance to express our concerns. The adults took turns criticizing Trump before shedding quiet tears into their tissues. 

We did not evaluate the policy visions of candidates or examine the electoral map. We did not even watch an informative YouTube video to understand the political system that was being portrayed as “broken.” It was an emotional chaos. 

I am not alone. Jahmiel Jackson, a 22-year-old from Philadelphia now studying at the University of Chicago, had a similar experience. And he is a registered Democrat.

“I think it happened in 10th grade,” Jackson recalled. “I remember my teachers coming in to cry. We did not have classes that day. I knew that it felt like a bomb had just been dropped, but no one ever explained . . . why.”

For Jackson, the anti-Trump rhetoric continued in college. He recounted his first day in a race and politics class: “We all had to go around and say, where were you the day Donald Trump was elected? As if this was 9/11 and we [were] saying, ‘Well, where were you when you saw the Twin Towers crash?’ ” 

Kayla Hutt, a 21-year-old student at New York University who identifies as a moderate, believes that professors have gone too far in promoting political awareness.

“We have crossed the line where I have heard of professors offering extra credit to their students for participating in protests,” she remarked.

“I have seen two professors who have formed groups outside of class for these discussions,” Hutt added. “That is somewhat better since it is outside the classroom, but at the same time, it is an attempt to create an outside community of only like-minded people and to push certain views on the students.”

Young individuals feel pressured to engage in this rhetoric both online and in casual conversations out of fear of social repercussions. Jackson mentioned feeling obliged or even harassed at times to align with his progressive classmates’ political narratives. 

“Many of the black students, especially the older ones, would say, ‘If you don’t stop talking about x problem, we will do this to you,’” Jackson, who is African-American, shared. 

This pressure extends beyond Jackson. Two out of three Americans under 30 have encountered online harassment, with half of those harassed citing political views as the reason for harassment. 

Most of us use social media for entertainment without much care for colorful, virtue-signaling Instagram posts. However, we also fear being excluded if our political views do not align with our peers. Though only a small portion of Americans in our age group who value social media as a platform to express their opinions engage in castigating others online, it only takes one individual to ostracize us from our peers. 

This is the environment Crooks seemed to have inhabited, and it is the one that all of us Gen Zers find ourselves navigating as we return to classrooms.

The adults I speak to lament the polarization in today’s nation. They reminisce about an America where political animosity was less prevalent – where disagreements could be resolved over a beer. Unfortunately, this is not the America my generation knows. 

It is true that the Secret Service faltered on July 13, and the FBI is not fully disclosing the details of the Trump shooting incident.

Yet, we are overlooking the most significant truth of all: Our leaders have failed to address the radical rhetoric in our schools, failed to teach my generation that discussing politics is impolite, and overlooked the cries for help from my fellow Gen Zers as we grapple with a mental health crisis. 

Thomas Matthew Crooks did not cause this crisis in our generation – but he may very well have been a product of it.

Daniel Idfresne is a junior at Syracuse University, a campus reform correspondent, and a contributor at Young Voices.