I was 7 years old when I first articulated in writing that I was worried about the state of the environment. My town held an essay contest in honor of Earth Day, and I submitted an entry about wanting to save flowers and animals from the effects of global warming. It was April 2011.

This Tuesday, 14 years later, I forgot that it was Earth Day. I didn’t hear about any collective action or celebrations. Instead, I read that about 450 staffers at the Environmental Protection Agency, some of whom work on environmental justice efforts, will be fired or reassigned.

In another world, I would’ve thought deeply about the impacts of this decision, and the people who will suffer because of it. But the slew of terrible news makes it impossible to understand the gravity of each situation. At this point, it’s hard to make me even more disappointed. 

This effect is perhaps best illustrated by the shooting at Florida State University last week. Two people died and six people were injured. It was a news headline for less than a day. Years ago, although I wouldn’t have expected this to provoke meaningful legislative change, I still would’ve anticipated widespread outrage. But it didn’t come. It was merely another day of terrible headlines. 

I read the news like it’s my job, as though by following the barrage of headlines close enough, I can put a stop to it. Someone recently asked about my “news diet” and I wanted to laugh; I consume everything in sight — there’s nothing diet-like about it. As a result of this habit, the anger that I used to feel while reading has evolved into a deep cynicism. Now, my outlook could best be characterized by a dull hopelessness. 

It is not new for college students to be pessimistic about the state of the country. What feels different about today, however, is that there are fewer avenues through which we can productively channel this desire for our nation to become better. 

I was always someone who believed in the capacity of our institutions to improve our country, and I hoped that I could be a part of that change. It sounds trite, but the young, optimistic mind often is. While I have never been exactly sure how I wanted to go about this, several of these paths — including going to graduate school or working for the government — have narrowed or completely closed for me and others. 

First, there is a hiring freeze within the federal government, which has recently been extended through July. Academia is also in disarray. Universities are admitting fewer students — or no students at all — to their Ph.D. programs because of funding cuts. Even summer internships, which offer brief but inspirational opportunities, are being canceled: The National Institutes of Health and State Department internships are not occurring this year. The Department of Justice canceled 1,000 law intern positions for this summer. I could go on, but I think you get the picture. 

Because of these changes, instead of pursuing work within the government or adjacent areas, I suspect that more students than ever will understandably prioritize more corporate, pre-professional paths over visions of public service. While there has been a lot of commentary from people who deride the rise of pre-professionalism within liberal arts colleges, I don’t think it’s an inherently bad concept, especially for students who use it to significantly advance their economic status.

What is upsetting to me is when college students who don’t want to join that path feel compelled to because they can no longer pursue their aspirations. In terms of job prospects, these people will be fine. Many are exceptionally smart students, in my experience. They’ll find jobs in the private sector. Banks are still hiring. Consulting firms are always there. Numbers are way up at law school this year, too, and I would imagine that they’ll stay high, if not grow even more.

This shift poses major consequences for young adults. While I believe there can be a healthy level of cynicism that can motivate us to improve our nation, today’s political climate makes this a difficult goal, therefore cultivating a brooding cynicism. 

Right now, there aren’t many places for this sinking feeling to go, besides clouding our vision of hope (at least before the opportunity to campaign in the next election cycle). Sure, there are people who believed in working outside of the system all along. But when this disillusionment is widespread, even reaching people who wanted to work for the government, I suspect it will have deleterious effects on the way that college-aged people now interact with — or turn away from — political systems in the future. 

In every class about climate change I’ve had, starting from elementary school and continuing through college, my peers and I were told that there were lots of harms done in the past, but that my generation could make a difference. We were the hope. The problem is that the rules of the game have changed just as we were about to start playing. We are being locked out of the decision room, and there’s no one to call for help. 

Talia Winiarsky is a Weinberg junior. She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.