It Had to Happen—whether you said it in a resigned whisper when the news broke, or with a cheerful acceptance of the inevitable. We’re in a world that's shape-shifting at every corner. The 21st century is rife with unavoidable events. Look at climate strikes: young people from all over, standing under a unified banner for the future of the planet. Who are these trailblazers? Often, they're the youth, disillusioned by sluggish political action and disinterested in the status quo. These movements popping up in urban centers worldwide act as big, blinking indicators of where we’ve been and where we’re going.
When Greta Thunberg sails across the Atlantic instead of flying, she makes a statement; when BLM protests spring up in every major city, they make a mark. Social revolutions—these tectonic shifts in our moral landscape—come not out of thin air. You can trace the historical lines and social inequities long before any boots hit the ground. Looking at history, you see the emergence of events that seem sudden from the outside but are long-brewing on the inside. The why of it all often circles back to an unyielding quest for justice or a survival instinct kicking in over climate change.
Even technological revolutions shout "It had to happen!" Look around, and you'll notice societies clutching their smartphones like lifelines. Gen Z was practically raised by screens, and for them, technology isn't progressing; it’s evolving like a constantly morphing Pokémon. When remote work systems kicked in during the pandemic, a collective sigh of 'finally' echoed worldwide. Our collective virtual existence, encoding facets of work, education, and interpersonal interactions, was always on the clock.
While many industries and educational systems stumbled awkwardly into digital spaces, perhaps better planning could have accelerated the process long before. But why wait until a global crisis nudges us there? Because human comfort persists in what we know, until urgency comes knocking.
Speaking of education, think "It had to happen" when discussing changes in learning models. Traditional education might feel like a relic, a dusty tome sitting on a shelf next to disillusionment. Conversations on educational reform have amplified, as curricula are seen as stale or misrepresentative of different cultural stories.
Yet a word of empathy for the other side: the worry about educational digitization and change is not baseless. Concerns flutter about the loss of face-to-face interactions and how these affect human empathy and patience—the gray areas that algorithms can't yet compute. It's akin to resisting change not just from nostalgia but from an emotional intelligence standpoint, which when considered, makes the argument for some cautiously paced reform strong and valid. So sure, that friction is there, but it serves to keep us balanced.
Our political sensibilities are undergoing seismic shifts too. Policies that seemed irreproachable are now stirring the pot in unexpected new directions. Remember when everyone said "It had to happen" at the overturning of archaic laws that hindered progressive climate action or civil rights reforms? Sometimes the timeline of change is aggressive, much like the Roe v. Wade debates, which have shown us new forms of activism, but each move sends ripples into the next iteration of policy-making.
But dig a little deeper, and the resistance becomes palpable. Those who resist may wrap their stance in tradition or fear of an unstable economy, showcasing an anxiety about urbanization and globalization tugging at their rural roots. A valid sentiment, true, as change tends to shove instead of nudge.
Then onto societal attitudes: on the surface, societal opinions on gender identity or sexual orientation might look young and wild, but they illustrate something inevitable. These are voices carving spaces—where silence became revolutionary language. Fluidity found a bedrock in our societies because traditional confines could no longer hold our lived experiences. Generationally wider conversations are now puncturing holes in societal taboos, evolving family structures, and the lexicon we use daily.
Perhaps, fostering understanding is the antidote to these societal shifts. Let's bring a word of advice here: listen. As our world shifts, the clash between rapid change and dragging feet can best be navigated with empathy.
Watch the landscape change like a painter’s palette after every sweeping brushstroke, evolution unfurling in real-time. "It had to happen," we mutter and shout, as technology catches up, consciousness reawakens, and our place as past, present, and future embarks on an intricate dance of continuity and change.