Time to rebel over a bleak future.

My Italian true love (she's a teacher) encourages her students to become rebels. To go against accepted norms. But often when she discusses the attitudes of students, seems to me they are anything but rebels. They join the crowd. The ranks. They look down their noses at people who don't fit into their society, their enclave. They reject real rebels. She tells me, for instance, students may consider me unsuitable because I don't wear the proper, prescribed clothes. Or because my jacket is a little bit dirty. I'd more expect that from their snooty parents. Not from teen-agers. By the way, many of the students dress alike. Almost as if they have donned uniforms. Certainly, they are not the uniforms of rebels. But rather of comformists who toe the line. I'm disappointed in these students. Because I want them to be rebels. Annoying rebels. Pissed over the dictates of society. Pissed over the political, economic and social policies of the establishment. I don't want them to accept what my generation is trying to foist on 'em. It's time to rebel over a very bleak future. --Jim Broede