A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in the PCJ lounge with some friends from the program, as we were preparing for an exam. We were running through the course themes, readings, and case studies, and realized that a lot of the stuff we were studying was, in fact, very bleak. The effect of seeing pages and pages of notes detailing where people have gone wrong and why made the whole experience a little depressing, to say the least. It wasn’t long before we all started complaining:

 

“I see a lot of conflict, but where’s the peace? Where’s the justice?” said one friend.

 

Another friend chimed in: “What we have here is step-by-step instructions on how to screw up the world.”

 

A third person jumped in: “I should have picked a program that allowed me to be ignorant—and hopeful.”

 

And finally, I jumped in with my own observation: “It seems that a better name for PCJ is Cynicism: the Major.”

 

Now, while these complaints were the product of many sleepless nights, over-caffeination and exam-induced stress, they held some truth. In our first semester of PCJ, there wasn’t a lot of peace and justice to be found— instead we had the breakup of the former Yugoslavia, the Rwandan genocides, Turkish protests, and a whole lot of explanation for how these events came to be. Notably absent among all this talk of terror, however, were any pieces of advice or opinions on how these events could have been avoided, both then and in the future. Armed with this knowledge, it’s very easy to become jaded and cynical about the fate of the world.

 

That being said, I have peaked at the syllabus for next semester, and there are many more justice-y and peace-y topics that we’re going to address and hopefully apply to specific cases. Moreover, I get the necessity of understanding conflict in order to be able to tackle peace, and most certainly justice. However, the grand effect on leaving first semester without much hopeful content left a bitter taste in my mouth. Too many times I did my readings or sat in lecture and asked myself, Okay, what now? What do we do in this scenario? How can I make this better?

 

I entered this program full of hope, because I wanted to change the world for the better, as did many of my peers (I’ve yet to meet someone who entered the program to change the world for the worst—that market is currently oversaturated). So, I feel a little sad when I see the same people ending the semester with bleak outlooks on world affairs. I’m not saying that we should ignore the depressing parts of what we study—indeed, that’s how problems get worse—but I think we do need to present it in a way that allows us to keep at least a bit of the hope that brought us here in the first place.

 

Of course, this isn’t just a problem in PCJ—students in many other programs like International Relations and History, for instance, are faced with course material that has the potential to bring them down and churn out graduates that are jaded, cynical, distrusting and unwilling to believe in viable progress for the world. Of those I know in these and related programs, the ones who maintain their hope are the minority. They are also often ridiculed for their “naïveté”.

 

So how can we prevent cynicism from taking over students that should be making changes in the world? Having done Model United Nations for 6 years, I came into the program perhaps more jaded then most, having witnessed first hand the immaturity, stalemate and structural loopholes that seem to prevent meaningful change among our most hallowed of international institutions. However, what kept me sane throughout all those negotiations (and all those lectures) was the reminder of the people who genuinely cared and wanted to see real solutions get through, even though many of us just wanted to plow through a resolution and win awards. Activities like Model UN present a microcosm of the work force: a majority that is more concerned with their own personal interests and outcomes than the issue at hand, and a minority that must shout twice as loud in order to remind everyone of the bigger picture. Being empowered by those who actually care made me want to care, too—and empower other people in the process.

 

Perhaps what PCJ students need to combat cynicism, then, are reminders of the goodness, hope and potential in the world. Though its marketability and screen time often pales in comparison to the sensationalized scandals and attacks that fill up news broadcasts, good news is out there. By challenging ourselves to sift through the negativity and find news that focuses on solutions, hope, and progress, we can combat cynicism and make ourselves happier people in the process. My mom has subscribed to The Optimist magazine for as long as I can remember, and it’s always been full of interesting news and stories from all disciplines that are related by their focus on solutions. A quick Google search for “good news sources” will bring you lots of websites that feature news that’s uplifting and positive, right to your fingertips, so give it a try.

 

Beyond good news, another strategy that has helped me overcome cynicism throughout my studies has been satire. Let’s face it: academic writing can often be very serious, full of jargon, and dense; it is rarely fun and uplifting. As a student, there’s pressure to conform to this seriousness and use this jargon—being able to do so is a marker of some sort of success. The result is students that just take themselves too seriously—everything seems like a crisis, and you are nothing if you don’t know the particulars of any 3 given wars going on around the world. While being informed is great, so is letting loose once in a while. Satire is a great way to look at the world through a different lens, one that proudly showcases humanity’s ridiculousness to shame it into betterment. Sometimes, this alternative, ridiculous viewpoint is just what we need to break through that wall of academic niceties and jargon. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that satire has the potential to bring up new possible solutions that academics might have never even considered. In terms of sources, I’ve always been partial to The Onion (The Onion Movie has gotten me through many an exam season), but UofT’s own Toike Oike is awesome, too.

 

By giving ourselves a sense of agency through opening our minds to positivity in the world, we can combat the cynicism that so often plagues both students and professionals. In the meantime, it’s up to my generation of students to set a different trend: one where we look ahead, open our minds, and hold on to the hope that brought us here in the first place.