“The best books… are those that tell you what you know already.”

George Orwell, 1984

This article was originally intended to cover the “Patriot Games”: a theoretical event announced by President Trump designed to celebrate the United States in its 150th year.

Since the conception of this article idea, however, there have been two school shootings, the Venezuelan president was captured, and Renee Good was shot and killed by an ICE officer in Minnesota.

That is to say, it seemed in poor taste to focus solely on this sporting event, without examining it in the larger context of the symbol it plays in a country at odds with itself.

Forgive me, but through my love of literature, I often see our world through its often dramatic narration. Therefore, I can’t help but feel that there has been little distance between the intended hyperbolic dystopia, and reality. 

Art, as we know it, is intended to reflect a truth of the time it was created. It is the “duty of the artist”, as Nina Simone once eloquently described.This editorial is aimed at drawing parallels with literature – not to indicate that we are living in a dystopia, but to examine the roots of corruption that are sown when we fail to remember the purpose behind prominent stories.

This article is not aimed to be flippant, but attentive. Not polarizing, but rather, a sincere series of observations intended to produce questions, not end neither start an argument.

Let’s get into it.

“The Party asked you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.”

George Orwell, 1984

A predominant feature of the dystopian world Orwell paints is one that manipulates and nullifies the purpose of language. 

This world allows pure contradictions to sit next to each other – “War is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength”- with no explanation or fussy philosophy. The statements sit with silence. The book’s society then takes these statements as true, purely because no authority has tried to justify it. 

From assassinations to social exile, we live in a world that prosecutes language. 

We are expected to accept exaggerated, cartoonish language from authority, and if we don’t “get it”, we are labeled as radical. Irrational. Stupid. Likewise, if we ourselves use a phrase too bold, a word too pointed, we are radical, irrational, and stupid. So we have to learn to communicate within an ever-confining vocabulary.  

Orwell speaks of “Thought Police”, of those that prosecute for a whisper of disobedience. Social media has fulfilled this role well enough: In order to create any platform of consequence, we must use it. Likewise, if we use it, we are cancelled for using it as a platform of consequence.

As feminist theorist Bell Hooks wrote, “This is the language of my oppressor, and yet I must use it to speak to you.” As a result, language is simplified. But when we simplify language, we discriminate against nuance, so the diverse voices that color complexity are not given the room to be heard.

We must allow language to be complex. We must allow words to have many meanings and we have to examine the context in which they are used. We must analyze metaphor and ask questions. Only this way can language expand towards inclusion, so all experiences are expressible, no one is shut into silence, and we can engage in civil debate.

“Hope. It’s the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective. A lot of hope is dangerous.”

President Snow, The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins

Now we have settled into the parallel to the original focus of this story. “The Hunger Games” serves as a young adult alternative lens from which to view current events.

We have come to the point in which my article was originally aimed: at emphasizing the significance of the announcement of the “Patriot Games” to celebrate 150 years of a country currently struggling.

Beyond the name alone, there is something deeper to the parallels here. These games are to be played with one boy and one girl from each state, competing for the pride of their country’s name. 

It would be a mistake to end connections to this series with these obvious comparisons – the socioeconomic distractions are also prominent today. 

During the winter of this past year, SNAP benefits were insecure and not assured as a result of a federal government shutdown, leaving many families in uncertainty. Around the country, many suffer the burden under medical bills with or without health insurance, and it is increasingly difficult to buy a home as a younger generation seeks the footsteps of their parents. 

Meanwhile, the White House is renovating their East Wing to have a grander ballroom, costing approximately $400 million. The justification here is simple: if the White House should appear prosperous, then as do we. It is for the sake of patriotism, the celebration of a country that only appears to exist.

 It is an iridescent illusion: shiny, but transitory, and gone at the right angle. As the districts suffer the Capitol does prosper, and the odds are ever in our favor.

Despite all this tragedy, no complaining is due without a proposition of a solution. 

It would be ignorant of me to assume authority on detangling the complexities of the world in practical action. But if we want peace, if we seek mediation, it must come. 

If we take the time to be critical but hopeful, discerning but inspired, never forgetting the trajectory of our purpose, we can be authors. The world we dream of is realized only when it is first imagined.

So hope. Allow yourself to picture a better way of being, a better system. Discuss with others, take action. Hope is the material of reconstruction, and the momentum of revolution.

If enough people want change, and seek change, the world has no choice to comply. Our story is not written just yet.