We are almost constantly surrounded by other 20 or so’s throughout our college experiences. We sit in class with 20-year-olds. We eat our meals with 20-year-olds. We ride the Ram Van, go out to the Fordham bars and work out at RamFit with (mostly) other 20-year-olds. We can exist in an echo chamber of our similar experiences and limited wisdom. This familiarity can almost become intoxicating.

I think it is this echo chamber of viewpoints that has led modern generations toward peak levels of isolation. This is exacerbated by modern technology, which, in its pursuit of global connection, alienates people from those directly around them. Our increasingly separated perspectives have led us into a state described as an epidemic of loneliness. Younger generations often fail to recognize the wealth of experience and wisdom of older individuals, while older generations can feel dismissed by the ambitions of the young. 

Perhaps this setup causes so many issues because it directly betrays humans’ natural inclinations. Throughout history, families have been together. Three generations were often under the same roof. However, intentional policies and cultural infiltrations have split up families. Most of us no longer go home to a family dinner each evening. I overhear other college students exclaim how they find children gross and annoying. Or how their parents and professors are ignorant. Perhaps the parents and professors are thinking the same thing — but I, too, participate in this isolation. People of different age groups do not often surround us, and so we gradually develop a distaste for anyone with a 10-plus-year gap from us. It is this separation that limits our growth, especially when it comes to expanding our hearts and minds. 

For one, intergenerational interactions broaden our perspectives. My Nonna would often share stories of growing up in Queens, the daughter of an immigrant. She would go to elementary school wearing dresses made from chicken feed bags. As a seven-year-old, sitting in my pink-walled room filled with clothes, books and toys, I could not comprehend that. Now, I am cognizant of these stories’ deeper meanings, not just the experience of confusion I felt as a kid regarding her fashion choices. 

This broadening of perspective ripples as we continue engaging with those of varied ages. Yes, children can act out of control, and the elderly can have habits of complaining — but they are a school of love. Being around people of different backgrounds, especially age, expands our hearts. It is impossible for us to grow in a bubble. A favorite saint of mine once said, “To be happy, what we need is not an easy life, but a heart that is in love.” We grow when we patiently and enthusiastically read the book to the two-year-old trying to learn his ABCs. We grow when we hear the same story shared weekly by an elderly man with memory issues. 

This school of love with those of all age groups can prompt rich reflection. The overwhelming joy that the toddler I babysit gets over finding a ballpoint pen teaches me to appreciate the little things in life. Brother Sheehy SJ’s beaming smiles as he sings verses of “I Got Rhythm” which have been in his memory for 70 years, show me the gift of remembrance and of music. I am not passively becoming a more patient person, but rather, these experiences teach me to profoundly recognize the value of stillness and ordinary moments in my life. 

Perhaps this intergenerational connection is exactly what we need in a disenchanted and polarized society. I find that so much of the hurt in the world comes from our expectation that others will despise us and disagree with us. I know this happens in my own heart. From my interactions with people of varied ages, I’ve been able to see how much we actually all agree on. Our hearts have been crafted with particular longings. Reaching out to those who are different from us enables us to see that truth. Even participating as staff for The Ram has helped me see how diverse people can have similar values, even if they manifest differently or are ranked in varied orders. By interacting with those who are different from us, we can learn to see all of us as brothers and sisters. Particularly in spending time with those of varied ages, we can tap into wisdom and knowledge we previously haven’t encountered. Thus, these intergenerational bonds allow us to fulfill the mission of our university —  “Sapientia et doctrina.” This education enables us to care for the whole person, body, mind and soul. A lack of intergenerational connection isn’t just a missed opportunity; it’s a barrier to the deeper understanding that can help repair the rifts in our communities and society at large.

So, call your grandmother! Give the tired mother carrying her newborn baby a seat on the Metro-North. Help tutor Spanish-speaking children at Our Lady of Mount Carmel church in Belmont. Luckily for all of us, there are so many opportunities in our local community to reach out to those with unique experiences. Even right off campus is Murray-Weigel Hall where you can visit retired Jesuits and hear the stories of remarkable lives lived everywhere from Jersey City to the Congo. Take our Catholic and Jesuit education off the 85 acres of 441 East Fordham Road and meet those of different backgrounds to stretch our hearts and minds.

Abigail Adams, FCRH ’26, is a philosophy major from Alexandria, VA.