D-i-l-l-a-r-d-'-s

I don't remember when it was but I remember what it felt like to learn the word idealism. It was instantly one of my favorite words. I loved it. I tried to work it into all of my papers in high school. I liked all of its forms- idealism, idealist, ideal. It was as good as learning the word juxtapose, but much more powerful.

So technically I have a degree in English, but I believe I spent most of my time in college majoring in idealism. I have 824 friends on Facebook and I can probably claim that most of them are/or have in the past devoted their time and energy to making the world a better place. Numerous friends are involved in Peace Corps or Americorps or Teach For America. An uncountable number are or have already become teachers or doctors or lawyers with the intent to help those who need helping. And I have to wonder, where did all this zealous idealism in my generation come from?

And then, I think about pants. Well, jeans specifically.

Recently it was brought to my attention that the number of choices of jeans in a department store is fairly absurd. So I started thinking about it... in one department store there are maybe 5 brands with 10 different styles. Each style comes in approximately 4 colors and 7 sizes. There are maybe 4 department stores in the mall and 3 malls in my area. That gives me access to around 16800 pairs of jeans within 20 miles of my apartment.* I'm not going to argue with the ridiculousness of American consumerism. That's a %$#@-ton** of pants.

But, can I ever separate the ridiculousness of these choices from the endless choices I have been granted in other parts of my life? I think it's fairly easy to relate how the children who grew up with all these choices in jeans are also the ones who can choose to go to college and choose an education and choose to become doctors and lawyers and teachers. Privilege is privilege in whatever form. However, is it choice that not only gives us access to do good, but also desire? Was it somewhere along the wide-leg, flared, stone-washed, ripped, boot-cut path that my Facebook friends and I developed our idealism?

*My grandmother taught me to always reserve the right to make up statistics at random, especially when they help prove your point.
**Very technical term used by English majors.