Taming Chaos: Lessons from the 1970s and the Power of Belief

Taming Chaos: Lessons from the 1970s and the Power of Belief

Ah, the 1970s—a decade where everyone was trying to figure life out while wearing patterns so loud you could practically hear them across the street. If the ’60s were the rebellious, anything-goes teen years, the ’70s were the awkward, soul-searching twenties, full of protests, polyester, and enough questionable decisions to keep therapists in business for decades. And let me tell you, being at Wayne State University in Detroit during this time? It was like getting a front-row seat to the circus of societal change—minus the popcorn.

Protests and Pamphlets Galore

The decade kicked off with America’s long-running How Do We Get Out of Vietnam saga. Spoiler alert: the war finally ended in 1975, but not before students across the country staged enough protests, teach-ins, and sit-ins to rival the attendance numbers of Woodstock. Wayne State was no exception. Anti-war chants echoed through campus halls, often blending with demands for civil rights, women’s equality, and LGBTQ+ recognition.

Activism wasn’t just a part of campus life—it was campus life. If you weren’t debating Nixon’s latest scandal or arguing over the best way to dismantle the patriarchy, you were probably on the sidelines grabbing a coffee and a stack of pamphlets. Speaking of pamphlets, they were everywhere. Plastered on walls, littering the floors, shoved into your hands by some overly enthusiastic student. To this day, I wonder—who had the budget for all that paper? Did they have a secret benefactor? A mysterious pamphlet fairy?

Panthers Everywhere

The activism scene was intense. You had the Black Panthers making waves for empowerment and justice, and then there was the White Panthers—an offbeat group with a name that sounded like a parody but was actually an anti-racist, countercultural movement. Yes, Detroit had its own rhythm, and Wayne State was right in the middle of it all. Protests weren’t just events; they were a part of your daily schedule, slotted between lectures and whatever passed for a decent campus lunch.

My Glorious Role in the Revolution

While my peers were out fighting the good fight and debating Marxist theory, my personal revolution was a little more... practical. I had a tuition scholarship, which was amazing, but it didn’t cover living. So, I balanced my studies with a full-time job as a dishwasher extraordinaire at the Greyhound Bus Station cafeteria downtown. Yes, while others were trying to dismantle capitalism, I was dismantling grease stains.

Picture this: my afternoons were spent elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing plates while bus travelers inhaled questionable cafeteria meatloaf. After my shift, I’d hop on a bus and make my way to campus for evening classes, hoping no one noticed the faint aroma of industrial dish detergent clinging to me. While others were busy organizing rallies, I was perfecting the fine art of stretching my paycheck (minus union dues, of course) into a two-week survival plan. Spoiler: it mostly involved cheap bread and whatever canned goods were on sale.

Evening Classes and Infinite Pamphlets

Wayne State’s evening classes had their own unique vibe. The halls were quiet, save for the occasional enthusiastic discussion about overthrowing the system. And the pamphlets! Oh, the pamphlets. It didn’t matter where you went—classrooms, hallways, even the restrooms—there they were, scattered like academic confetti. To this day, I have no idea who funded all that printing. Did they have a secret printing press in someone’s basement? Did a wealthy alum leave an endowment specifically for pamphlet production? The world may never know.

The Dangers of Chaos and the Void of Belief

Fast forward fifty years, and we find ourselves in a world that feels eerily familiar yet profoundly different from the gritty, vibrant chaos of the 1970s at Wayne State University. Back then, the chaos had its charm—protests, pamphlets, and passionate voices filled the campus, reflecting a society grappling with its identity. Despite the disorder, there was a common thread of belief—belief in justice, in change, in a better tomorrow. Today, however, the chaos remains, but that unifying belief seems to have faded, leaving behind a dangerous void.

The Perils of Modern Chaos

The chaos of today is different. It’s not just gritty—it’s fragmented and relentless. Social media amplifies every disagreement, while trust in institutions, leaders, and even one another crumbles. Instead of uniting to solve shared challenges, we’ve become a collection of isolated voices shouting into the void. Without belief to anchor us, chaos risks becoming the default state.

• Division Over Unity: In the 1970s, while debates were heated, there was often a shared sense of purpose behind the protests. Today, polarization runs so deep that even agreeing on basic truths feels impossible.
• Overwhelm Without Direction: Chaos without belief leads to paralysis. With so many issues vying for attention—climate change, political instability, economic disparity—people often feel helpless, unsure of where to begin.
• Apathy Takes Hold: When belief is absent, so is hope. People disengage, assuming their actions won’t make a difference, which only deepens the chaos.

The Void of Belief

Belief once provided a compass in chaotic times. Whether it was faith in justice, equality, or the power of collective action, it gave people a reason to push forward. Today, that compass seems to be broken. What’s left is a society drowning in information but starving for meaning.

• Disconnection: In an age of endless communication tools, we’re more disconnected than ever. Without belief in shared values or goals, chaos thrives, and meaningful change feels out of reach.
• Cynicism Reigns: Skepticism has turned into cynicism. Trust in governments, institutions, and even neighbors is at an all-time low, eroding the foundation of belief that once held society together.
• The Danger of Extremes: In the absence of belief, chaos can lead people to latch onto extreme ideologies or movements, often out of desperation for purpose. This makes it easier for misinformation and harmful agendas to take root.

Lessons from the 1970s

Despite its flaws, the 1970s offered a blueprint for how chaos can coexist with belief. Students protested because they believed their voices could make a difference. Communities rallied together because they believed in justice. Even in the face of economic hardship and political scandal, there was an undercurrent of optimism that better days were possible.

Looking back, my experience at Wayne State—scrubbing dishes by day and attending classes by night—wasn’t glamorous, but it was grounded in belief. The belief that education mattered. A belief that every effort, no matter how small, contributed to something bigger. That belief gave purpose to the chaos and turned it into a stepping stone, not a roadblock.

Rebuilding Belief in Modern Times

To move beyond the chaos of today, we need to rekindle that sense of belief. Here’s how we can start:

1. Reconnect with Purpose Reflect on what truly matters to you and your community. What are the causes, values, or goals that deserve your belief? Start small, and let those beliefs guide your actions.
2. Rebuild Trust Trust is the foundation of belief. Seek out honest, reliable sources of information, and engage in conversations that build bridges rather than walls.
3. Focus on Collective Action Even small efforts—joining a local initiative, volunteering, or simply showing up for a cause—can reignite the power of belief and inspire others to do the same.
4. Combat Apathy with Optimism Belief thrives on hope. Focus on what can be done instead of what feels impossible. Optimism doesn’t mean ignoring problems—it means believing they’re worth solving.

The Call to Action

Chaos without belief is a dangerous recipe, one that risks leaving us adrift in a sea of disconnection and despair. But chaos with belief? That’s where change happens. It’s where protests transform into movements, ideas into action, and dreams into reality.

The 1970s taught us that belief can coexist with chaos—and even thrive within it. Today, we face a new kind of disorder, but the solution remains the same: rediscover what we believe in and let it guide us through the noise. Because without belief, chaos wins. And I, for one, believe we’re capable of so much more.