Why hope still matters to the young

I have often wondered if hope still mattered to young people when the meaning itself has become increasingly fragile. For many, hope is no longer loud or confident. It is quiet, careful, and sometimes difficult to hold on to. Still, it persists.

This quiet form of hope often goes unnoticed because it does not announce itself in grand gestures or dramatic declarations. Instead, it appears in small acts of perseverance: continuing to study despite uncertainty, showing up even when motivation feels worn out, and choosing to care in a world that often rewards indifference. These somehow ordinary choices reveal that hope, though quiet, remains deeply present in the lives of the young.

In many ways, hope has become a form of resistance against meaninglessness.

At a time when negativity is easily accessible and despair can feel justified, choosing to hope is an act of defiance. It is a refusal to believe that life is merely a sequence of obligations and disappointments. For young people, hope pushes back against the idea that the future is already decided or entirely broken.

The pace of modern life offers comfort and convenience, but it also comes at a cost. Many young people live with a constant sense of anxiety about the future, about missed opportunities, about whether our efforts will ever amount to something lasting. The search for purpose feels heavier when everything moves too fast.

The pressure to keep up is intensified by a culture that constantly measures worth through visible success. Moments of rest can feel undeserved, and slowing down is mistaken for falling behind. In this environment, hope becomes fragile because it is repeatedly tested by comparison and self-doubt. Still, many young people continue to search for meaning, even when the process feels draining.

When we are tired, it is easy to ask: Why keep trying?

This question does not always come from laziness or lack of ambition, but from exhaustion. When effort is no longer matched by reassurance or visible progress, discouragement immediately creeps in. This feeling of meaninglessness is not from personal doubts alone. It is deepened by disappointment with systems and institutions that fail to live up to their promises. When leaders fall short of their responsibilities, it becomes harder to believe that the future is worth hoping for. In a country where political divisions overshadow genuine public service, choosing hope can feel almost unreasonable.

Young people, who are often the most affected by long-term consequences of poor leadership, are left seeking a future shaped by decisions they did not make. This breeds frustration and skepticism, making hope feel immature. And yet, many still choose to hope, not because they are unaware of reality, but because surrendering to despair feels like giving up on the possibility of change.

I, too, have experienced this sense of hope diluting. I have always wanted life to go according to how I want it to be. However, life, indeed, is full of surprises. I faced uncertainties and self-doubts, which made me realize that leaving was easier than staying. However, “something” always pulled me back and made me realize that there are still a lot of good things that can happen, that not everything is lost. This “something,” I realized, was hope.

Hope did not remove my fears or instantly make things clearer. Instead, it gave me enough strength to remain present and continue despite unanswered questions. It reminded me that not knowing what comes next does not mean that what comes next will be meaningless.

I’ve learned that hope is not only a feeling but also a spiritual practice. It is the quiet trust that even in the midst of uncertainty, there is a purpose greater than my plans. In prayer, I have often found a stillness that reminds me: I am not alone in my struggles, and my life is not just a series of problems to solve.

In this tranquility, hope becomes less about control and more about surrender. It teaches patience and trust, allowing space for growth even when results are, for the moment, unclear.

In one of our classes, our professor assigned us books to read. I was assigned to a book by Viktor E. Frankl, “A Man’s Search for Meaning.” Frankl quotes the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.” For me, this is hope in a single sentence.

Hope is that which gives a reason for us to continue, even when systems, institutions, leaders, or even our very selves are failing. Hope is the why to live for in life.

It is not false optimism, but a decision to believe that life is still worth engaging with, even in its brokenness.

Maybe hope matters, especially to the young, because it is not only our strength; it is also a gift. A quiet reminder that even when the world seems uncertain, we are still being guided toward something good.

—————-

Russell Vaughn Ceniza Tuyan, 21, is a philosophy student/seminarian.