At first, two stories that appeared in the same issue of a weekly newsmagazine looked as different as night and day. One told of the Caribbean island of Montserrat, gradually being buried by volcanic ash.Tammerlin Drummond, "Under the Volcano," TIME, September 1, 1997, pp. 42—43. The piece, published in September, described beaches, farms, and villages that at one time had been paradise to residents and tourists, but that were being reduced to mounds of rubble. The accompanying photograph conveyed a similarly bleak view of the island. Under the shadow of the island's volcano, a lush landscape had become barren, a wilderness in every direction.
In contrast, there were big smiles connected to the other story: a picture of two teenage girls who looked ready to party.James S. Kunen, "It's Ain't Us, Babe," TIME, September 1, 1997, pp. 66-67. But the smiles, the reader soon learns, are covering up a huge void in their lives. "It's a disgusting time to live in. It's boring," says one of the girls. "There's nothing to look for, and nowhere to go. This generation really hasn't got any solid ground." This story, it turns out, is about another kind of wilderness. It's about a wilderness within. "There's nothing to do but entertainment—make it or watch it," says a fifteen-year-old. History professor Michael Frish regularly comes into contact with teenagers who feel this way, and he says, "It's very hard to get them to see that you can make change either in yourself or something around you...."
The professor makes a crucial point for all of us to keep in mind, whether we happen to be faced with a barrenness we feel within ourselves or one we see around us. We do have the ability to change our lives. There is always a way to safety, to happiness, to a rewarding life.
