When do we truly reckon with the weight of war?
As first graders, Gen Z was introduced to 9/11 — Documentaries, soft-spoken teachers, and textbooks detailed a day we did not fully understand, but accepted nonetheless. Our young minds begged the question:
“Mom, where were you when it happened?”
We learned — often up close — about Iraq, Afghanistan, and the soldiers overseas. Four out of five people in Gen Z know a service member, and from an early age, we were taught to respect their sacrifice.
Born into an era of foreign conflict, we inherited a patriotic identity before we could even define patriotism.
But what was it all for?
While we learned how to feel about America’s post-9/11 conflicts, their broader objectives often remained distant. No Allentown elementary student understood the phrase “WMDs,” or the atrocities committed by Osama Bin Laden.
Much of our education on the War on Terror came coated in stars and stripes, while the most tangible effects reshaped the Lehigh Valley — $4.10 a gallon for gas, thousands in tax dollars, and the loss of over two dozen local service members.
These consequences belonged mostly to our parents. They saw the news. They held the gas pump. We just watched.
Still, I can imagine my father, years ago, saying something in a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru:
“Why is everything so damn expensive?”
He knew why. Any adult in the early 2000s understood the rationale behind America’s response after 9/11: Dismantle al-Qaeda, and neutralize threats abroad. While the intelligence basis for Iraq later proved deeply flawed, the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan reflected the determined mindset of our scarred nation.
Today, however, America’s role in the Middle East feels less certain.
Blockades and bombardments continue. Negotiation has proved chronically ineffective.
Let me be clear—Americans do not want Iran to possess nuclear weapons. But the methods the United States uses to prevent that outcome still deserve careful consideration; they still deserve an endgame.
In peacemaking, we must hope that America does not concede too easily. We must also consider the risks of ending a conflict without a long-term strategy.
But what does it mean to evaluate these decisions now?
The difference now is that nobody is filtering it for us. Nobody is teaching conflict with youth-friendly patriotism, or shielding us from the realities of military action. Now we pay for gas. Now we inherit the uncertainty.
For Gen Z, the Middle East is no longer textbook history. It is emptied wallets and draft registration; it is the looming fear that global conflict could define our children’s education. Social media only fuels this anxiety; now, every strike, headline, and escalation becomes personal within minutes.
These fears will likely cement a distrust in government among Gen Z, as we compare today’s conflict to the ones of our childhood.
It is up to us to build that trust back. That process starts here, in the Lehigh Valley, where we must build community, and hope our locality ripples through the nation.
We already see glimpses of that possibility. Our generation participates in organizations like Community Action Lehigh Valley, gathers at neighborhood meetings in Center City, and volunteers at Bethlehem food banks. In doing these things, we combat the cynicism and hopelessness that foreign policy has invited.
As that policy unfolds, it is our responsibility to confront its consequences in reality. We live in a new world, one that is more uncertain, more expensive, and more informative than it was before.
Let our generation — peace deal or not — continue, rebuilding faith in our institutions, our nation, and our capacity to make change. After all, it is easier to feel patriotic with the naiveté of a schoolboy.
This is our time.
When do we truly reckon with the weight of war?
One year ago, the Working Families Tax Cuts became law — driving economic growth, lowering costs for families, unleashing America-first energy policies, and reclaiming America’s position as the world’s leading energy producer and exporter.
Berks County District Attorney John Adams’ comments on skill machines highlight a recurring flaw in modern policymaking: The assumption that any untaxed activity represents lost government revenue waiting to be captured.
Kellie Walenciak of Forks Township is a volunteer at St. Luke’s Anderson Campus and a communications executive.
By Sara Emerle, Center Valley
Load more