Opinion | John Cameron Mitchell Teaches Young People to Be Punk

I found myself looking out at faces still shining with hope and I was touched. Hope comes naturally to the young, but these students felt old. Screens and lockdowns had left them with hummingbird attention spans, spotty memories, an obsession with self-diagnosis and a fondness for slippers in winter. Don’t even mention dating or — gasp — sex when the simple act of looking into someone else’s eyes provokes anxiety. But what could they do? Give up their phones and the corporate-controlled, like-driven culture, which is all they’ve ever known? Silent scream emoji!

That’s when I was reminded of what I learned from 18 years of military upbringing (socialism for rednecks featuring free health care), 45 years of theater and film (authoritarianism for liberals with not much health care) and an introduction to queer activism in the time of AIDS (anarchism for all in an attempt to save lives). I’ve come to believe that D.I.Y. collective action — specifically, the punk variety — might be our only way through the darkness.

I told the students stories. My hero was my father, a closeted bisexual Army major general who, in the 1990s, argued in favor of gays in the military by reminding people that they’ve always been there. Yes, the military vibe could be depressingly macho, but it’s also about having your buddies’ backs, no matter their gender, sexuality or race. I spoke about the subject of my new play, Claude Cahun, a French Jewish Surrealist who, with her partner, Marcel Moore, broke into a church at night during the Nazi occupation and put up a banner, reading: “Jesus is great. But Hitler is greater. Because Jesus died for people — but people die for Hitler.” Voilà, punk!

I told them how I learned about punk in a 1990s downtown drag scene that was in no danger of landing brand deals for sponsored content. I recommended the 2012 documentary “How to Survive a Plague,” which chronicles a particularly queer brand of AIDS activism that negotiated with Big Pharma (You may hate us, but if you save us you could make billions) while also taking to the streets to shame their greed with eye-catching art. (My favorite was “Enjoy AZT,” which mimicked the Coca-Cola logo to protest the inflated cost of that imperfect but important early drug — and a lack of other, better options.) Protesters slipped a monster-size condom over the home of the monstrous homophobe Senator Jesse Helms and poured the ashes of fallen comrades onto the White House lawn. Now, that was punk.

“Your homework is to stop canceling each other, find out about punk, and get laid while you’re at it,” I told them. “Punk isn’t a hairstyle; it’s getting your friends together to make useful stories outside approved systems. And it’s still happening right now, all over the world.” MAGA has adopted an authoritarian style of punk that disdains what Elon Musk calls our “greatest human weakness,” empathy. But O.G. punk, while equally free of trigger warnings, is constructive and caring.