All language subtitles for 02-Teenage.2013.WEBRip.x264-ION10 2-English-resync-resync

Ambition? Well,
I want to do something that's
going to be lastingly useful...

and leave some sort
of mark behind me,
not just a blank space.

I think my ambition in life
is to be famous,
but I'm not quite sure.

I've never experienced
another generation,

but I do feel we'll
have something to say.

We'll make a gigantic splash
in the world to come.

There's always
a change going on.

You never know
what's gonna happen next.

You never know what
new clothes you're gonna have.

You never know
what the new records
are gonna be.

My stack of records
keeps getting larger.

You know how parents are.
They always bug you--
where you're going,

when you're getting home,
who you went with,

what time you're gonna be back,
don't stay on the phone
too long.

Then you get your own car,
and you're free a little bit.

But they're still
holding on the rope.

We're teenagers.

But we didn't always exist.

We were a wartime invention.

Who would we become?

Who would decide it?

The adults?

Or us?

First we were just children.

That's how they thought of us.

And then all of a sudden
we were supposed to be adults.

Twelve years old,
and I'd be off to work
in the factory.

I worked 74 hours a week.

6:00 in the morning
till 5:30 at night.

Saturdays till noon.

My hands were bruised and cut.

I felt like a slave.

Children have always worked,

but it is only since
the reign of the machine...

that their work has been
synonymous with slavery.

There is no more
terrible page in history...

than that which records
the enslavement
of mere babies...

by the industrial revolution.

Adults knew it wasn't right.

They wanted to protect us.

So governments started
to make child labor
against the law.

I started going to school.

I loved having fun
with my friends.

We were young,

and we were allowed to be.

There was a second stage
of life now.

"Adolescence."

In the factory
we were prisoners,

but in the streets...

we were free.

The cities
were fast and hard.

So were we.

We formed gangs
that roamed the streets.

"Hooligans"
is what the police called us.

We carried knives.

We robbed...
and killed.

Youth were a problem...

that had to be controlled.

My brother Scouts,

you are doing much
to prevent the present
disgraceful waste...

of human materials...

and showing
your poorer brothers...

how to be good,
successful men.

One man thought
he'd found a solution...

to the problem of youth.

A soldier called
Robert Baden-Powell...

wrote a military
training manual for the young.

Scouting for Boys
it was called.

It was a manifesto
for a movement--

the Boy Scouts.

You are tested
on your honor...

to do your best to carry out
the Scout Promise,

which is to work
for God and the king.

Tracking and camping
had always been
a fantasy for me.

I'd yearned
for an awfully big adventure,

and here it was.

The Scouts came to America too.

Hundreds of thousands
of boys joined.

They learned patriotism,

courage and self-reliance.

Once a Scout, always a Scout.

I believed
what Baden-Powell said--

"The Scout
is loyal to the king,

to his officers,
his parents and country.

He must stick to them
through thick and thin."

We went from
rat-faced slum kids...

to fit and healthy soldiers,

primed for war.

Today, England is off to war.

Meet the fall
with the cry of liberty.

If you didn't join up,

you were letting
everybody down.

They made sure you knew it.

In Germany, the news of war
was intoxicating.

**

There were bands playing,
flags flying.

What drove us was
a feeling of adulthood...

burning up inside.

Half the population
was under the age of 22.

Almost all the boys applied
for military service.

13- or 14-year-olds...

were crushed
if they were rejected
by the recruiting officers.

Europe tore itself apart.

And then the Americans came.

More than two million soldiers,

fully equipped
and indomitable in spirit,

were safely transported
across 3,000 miles of seas,

where they turned
the tide of battle,

one imperishable glory...

and triumph to the greatest war
that the world has ever known.

They brought new music,
dances and films.

American culture
started to spread.

Our boys made good in France.

The word "American"
has a new meaning in Europe.

When my brother died
in the war,

they sent us a frame
that said
"Died on the field of honor."

There is no field of honor.

An entire generation
was gutted.

We lost all loyalty and trust.

We were shell-shocked.

The pound of the guns
drove us mad.

Millions of young men
were massacred.

The old had sent us to die,

and we hated them.

After the war,
everyone wanted to be born anew,

to blot out the past.

There was this reckless
sense of release,

and I felt a kind of
wildness inside.

What do they want?

They say, "We want beer."

Spending their money,
debauching their character,

rotting their bodies...

and jeopardizing
their immortal souls.

My father says
I can't go out every night.

But what on earth
does he want me to do?

Just sit around
at home all evening?

I don't trust
my parents anymore.

I just want to be
with my friends.

Our world is speedy,

and they're old.

The power of today
is in our hands.

We who number ourselves
among the so-called
wild and wicked youth...

would prefer to go out
with drums beating
and bugles blowing.

We want to be young
before we're old.

They call us flappers,
flaming youth.

The times have made us
awfully experienced
for our age.

I got all the new jazz records.

My mum thought
it was awful noise.

She asked me why it was good,
and I said,

"Because it comes from America."

You'd hear people say,

"Those who get the youth
get the future."

Our parents
had ruined Germany,

and we wanted
a new kind of community.

So we joined youth groups.

There had been youth movements
even before the war.

Workers' youth groups,
Jewish youth groups,

but the most important group
was the Wandervogel--

"Wandering Birds."

Our teachers and our parents
didn't understand us.

So we created our own world.

Youth were leading youth.

We'd run through forests,

lay together at bonfires,

make flower wreaths
and photos,

sing and dance.

Then drop off our clothes...

and feel free.

To be young was the style.

And it was for sale.

Records,

cigarettes, perfume.

And all those glamorous
Hollywood stars to admire.

I wanted to be like Valentino.

He always got the girls.

When he died, we rushed
the funeral by the thousands.

They called it a riot.

I wish I could have been there.

**

In Britain
there was a new breed,

and we defined ourselves
by our youth.

They called us
the Bright Young People.

It started with a few girls
who liked dressing up,

doing hoaxes
and treasure hunts,

making a fool of everyone.

We took it all very seriously.

Except when we didn't.

The police were trying
to shut down
all of London's nightlife.

So we created our own.

There was this one girl
who shined especially bright.

Her name was Brenda Dean Paul.

Brenda hit the scene in 1926.

She was 19.

She came from a broken home.

Longed to be famous.

She played many parts,
but...

the most convincing
was her role as life and soul
of the party.

Pajama parties,

Greek parties,
Russian parties,

sailor parties,
American parties,

murder parties,
baby parties.

We called them
"freak" parties.

And it didn't take long
for them to become big affairs.

Girls were like boys,
and the boys like girls.

Sometimes you couldn't even
tell us apart.

We liked it that way.

A couple of gossip columnists
wrote it all up in the papers.

They made it into...

a "movement."

But for Brenda--

once she started
she couldn't stop.

She crashed her car,
and then she fell ill.

Perhaps it was
all the late nights.

Or perhaps
it was the abortion.

Somebody gave her morphine,

and Brenda became London's
first and most notorious junkie.

Scandal, drug busts, prison.

Brenda became famous,

but not in the way
she had wanted.

Did she really think
she could stay young forever?

Yes. Probably
in that moment we all did.

We were just too tired
to break away.

Eventually Brenda crashed,

but by then nobody could
really remember or care.

We were all crashing,

and then
the whole world did too.

Adults were in a panic.

But we were the ones
who would inherit this mess.

Today the largest single group
of the nation's unemployed...

are young men and women
between the ages of 16 and 24.

Boys like 18-year-old
Warren Harper,

hardest hit of a generation
which has grown up
in depression.

Warren himself never has had
a steady job in all his life,

never has owned an overcoat.

When he goes out
looking for work,
he wears borrowed clothing.

He gets up late
and spends most of his time...

hanging around
talking with other boys
who are out of work...

and wondering
what's wrong when a fella
wants to work and can't.

You couldn't even work.

I was fired at 16.

The governor wanted
to take on an errand boy
who'd do my job cheaper.

Nothing to do with my time.

Nothing to spend.

Nothing to do tomorrow,
nor the day after.

I was a living corpse.

Not only old people had grief,

but young ones too.

Our future looked bleak.

Some parents
were suffering so bad...

they couldn't look after
their children anymore.

Those kids hit the road.

They were the children's army.

Hoboes,

boxcar riders,

young tramps.

People thought
there was no hope for youth.

But we were searching
for something to believe in.

And we were willing
to fight for it.

As fast as one mob is broken up,
another gathers.

Politics was our problem too.

We are not looking for charity.
We want an opportunity to work.

There was talk of revolution.

And they feared us.

There were the Communists...

and the Nazis,

and we took up sides.

People would come up to you
in the street and ask,

"Who are you with?"

If you gave them
the wrong answer,

they would attack.

Radical change was in the air.

5,000 fascists rally
to their mobilization...

for the much advertised march
through the East End.

Communists jammed
the fascists' route,

resisting the peaceful efforts
of the outnumbered police
to clear the way.

I was there when the fascists
started marching down my street.

I wasn't gonna let
my country go that way.

We had to get involved.

We weren't gonna be
another lost generation.

Let us carry on the good
that the past has given us.

The best of that good
is the spirit of America,

and the spirit of America
is the spirit in which youth...

can find the fulfillment
of its ideals.

It is for the new generation
to participate
in the decision...

and to give strength
and spirit...

and continuity...

to our government
and to our national life.

Melita Maschmann was
a typical middle-class girl.

Her parents complained about
the unemployment and poverty,

but they didn't do a thing.

Melita wanted action.

So she joined the Hitler Youth.

My mother expected me to be
unquestioning and obedient,

like the maids.

I rebelled.

I wanted to be different--

to escape from
my narrow childish life.

I was a March Violet,

one of the many youth who joined
after Hitler became chancellor.

Every weekend we had tests
and competitions.

Swimming, sports,
obstacle races.

There were camping trips
and holidays too.

I can only recall
this feeling of happiness--

to be allowed
to belong to a community...

which embraced
the whole youth of the nation.

Millions of us joined
the Hitler Youth.

It felt like the Wandervogel,

only now we were part of
the national cause.

Youth were leading youth.

We were at the center
of the government's plan...

because we would
shape the future.

They wanted us to be strong.

Hitler said his youth
should be tough as leather,

swift as greyhounds...

and hard as Krupp steel.

A young German...

was the most exciting thing
you could be.

Big-city backwoodsmen.

New York boys
are getting back to nature...

in the citizens conservation
camp at Yellowstone Park.

That's pretty.

An important part
of the national recovery program
are these camps,

one of the president's
pet projects.

They're a great thing
for city boys.

Roosevelt created the Civilian
Conservation Corps...

and other programs
that put youth to work.

It was job training,
but we were getting paid.

Maybe our protests were heard.

On a bank of the Avon,

you will find the men
of the first Grith Fyrd,

or Peace Army camp,

where young men
of all classes
can develop themselves...

both physically and mentally.

We had labor camps.

Instructional Centers
is what they were called.

They gave us something
worthwhile to do.

The government
was taking us seriously.

It gave us a real boost.

Young people
were part of the solution.

We were prospering.

And we were going to
change the world.

* Happy days are here again

* The skies above
are clear again *

* Let us sing
a song of cheer again *

* Happy days are here again *

**

Let me tell you
in plain American English.

I'm a jitterbug,

and I'm crazy about swing.

For years we oompahed
to sticky fox-trots.

And then came swing
with its solid rhythm.

**

Negro bands playing hot,

but with the power
of a big orchestra.

It was free, beautiful music,

and it let us cut loose
and act like normal kids
for a change.

Every day into music shops
from coast to coast...

go more and more customers,

all for the same thing--

the latest in swing music.

Swing! Swing!

It's the rhythm, rhythm, rhythm
that gets 'em.

The hot-cha-cha,

the boogie-woogie,
the vicey versa,
the nuts and bats.

It's movement, movement,
rhythm, rhythm and all that.

Ever since the crash,
life's been so grim.

Jitterbugs
were changing the mood.

We were the new flaming youth.

When Benny Goodman
played New York,
it was madness.

There was a whole
youth craze catching on.

Adults weren't ready
to integrate,

but jitterbugs were.

White kids took their cues
from us Negroes.

Where we couldn't go,
our songs would.

Our music made the feet
of the world dance.

Swing broke out
to the mass audience.

If you didn't
live in the city,

then you could hear it
on the radio.

And so the Camel Caravan--

Shows like Camel Caravan
and Let's Dance.

You could live the dream
without ever having
to leave your bedroom.

I hereby dedicate...

the World's Fair of 1939.

When they had the World's Fair,

it was about the future,

and jitterbugs
were at the center of it all.

I heard them talking
about us on the radio.

They said,

"Once you've glimpsed
the world of tomorrow,

you can never look back.

You may enter it
a girl of today.

You'll come out
a girl of tomorrow."

I want to tell you,
I have never seen...

such a spectacle as this
in all my life.

Swing was the voice of youth,
the sound of freedom.

It was real.

It was alive.

Enthusiastic young jitterbugs--

young Americans living
for the world of tomorrow.

When the Hitler Youth started,

it was an inspiring cause.

But now
it was the establishment.

Membership
was compulsory.

Slowly, you lost yourself.

It was the denial
and the degradation
of the individual...

into the mass.

If you didn't like it,

there was no escape.

At 16 and 17,

you crawled inside yourself.

Psychologically...

you were armed.

Germany has invaded Poland
and has bombed many towns.

General mobilization
has been ordered
in Britain and France.

Melita had quickly climbed
the ranks of the Hitler Youth.

Once the war started,
she left home to serve
as a youth press officer.

Melita was
the ideal youth leader--

rigorous, hardworking,

and she believed in Germany's
superior moral position.

She quickly lost
her Jewish friends,

but sacrifices had to be made.

You had only two choices--

have Jewish friends
or be a National Socialist.

When I had to pass
along the ghetto street,

the wretchedness of the children
brought a lump into my throat.

But gradually,

I learned to switch off
my private feelings.

Everything
that I was or had been...

was now absorbed
into the whole.

Not everyone
was willing to comply.

There were the Hamburg Swings.

They were obsessed
with American music
and British fashion.

It didn't matter
if it was against Nazi law.

They had no manifesto.

Still, their mere presence
was a threat to the regime.

Tommie Scheel
fell in love with swing.

It all started
when a friend of his
came back from New York...

with all the latest records.

Tommie heard something
in swing he liked.

It was a new youth language,

and Nazis weren't allowed.

Once the war started,
if you weren't in uniform,

everyone knew
what you believed in
or what you didn't.

Tommie wore British suits.

He wouldn't put on
the Hitler Youth uniform.

It was important not to look
like faithful German younglings.

The Nazis hated swing.

They banned
all art and social dancing.

Boys and girls
were forbidden to mix.

Swing shows
were raided by police.

When one Hamburg Swing
was arrested, they told him,

"Anything that begins
with Duke Ellington...

ends with an assassination
attempt on Hitler."

So Tommie and his friends
met at his parents' house...

where nobody
could see them dance.

Once, for fun,

they dressed up
like American gangsters...

and pretended to rob
a friend's villa.

Of course they took pictures.

It was their art.

Once the Gestapo
got ahold of the pictures,

they wished
they'd never done it.

Robbery charges
were brought against them.

Police reports
called them criminals.

It said
they were race defilers,

they fornicated,

they were homosexuals
and robbers.

It wasn't just kids
having fun.

They were a direct threat
to the nation.

When they arrested Tommie,
they beat him.

He was shipped
to a political prison,

much like a concentration camp.

He survived,

eventually finding his way
to his beloved America.

But most of his friends did not.

A date which will live
in infamy.

Following yesterday's shattering
and unprovoked attacks,

the United States
formally declared war
on the empire of Japan.

Today the nation is stirring...

as it slowly realizes
the immense extent...

of the enterprise
on which it has embarked.

More than 16 million
young Americans,

in answer to the highest
obligation of their citizenship,

place themselves at
the disposal of their country.

I will obey the orders
of the president
of the United States...

The government was asking us
to defend freedom,

and we answered the call.

We thought democracy
was something worth
fighting for.

The Americans were coming.

It was world war all over again.

The youth of Britain certainly
means to play its part...

in shaping the future.

The authorities know how keen
all these boys of 17 are--

a sign of the times.

We'd been at war
for two years now.

I lived in London
during the Blitz.

I slept in the Underground
while the bombs dropped,

then came up to see
the buildings crumbling.

I was excited when the G.I.s
arrived from America.

They brought all the swing music
I'd been listening to
and made it live.

Who wants to listen
to some sentimental ballad...

when you're young
and you can dance
the "A" Train with the Yanks?

The G.I.s looked so sharp,

like we were in black and white
and here they came, in color.

When you think of entertainment,

you must somehow
think of Piccadilly,
the hub of entertainment.

In Shaftesbury Avenue,
less than a hundred yards
from the circus,

is Rainbow Corner,
famous American
entertainment headquarters.

Ices and lasses,
and what more could you want?

Unless it's
more lasses than ices.

Rainbow Corner
was open all day and all night.

But sometimes
they had to close it...

because there were so many of us
on the street outside.

For a night,
I could forget about the war.

And are they enjoying it.

Such an occasion as this,
small though it may be
in itself,

it's just another
happy indication...

of the friendly relationship
and happy understanding...

that exist between ourselves
and our cousins
across the Atlantic.

In Europe they were
treating us like equals.

But back home
was a different story.

We were the enemy.

Warren Wall was 16
when the war started,

the eldest
of seven brothers and sisters.

He hoped to become
an electrical engineer.

Sometimes I feel so alone.

I don't wanna run
with the gangs.

I wanna work...

and gain respect.

But most of my friends
don't see it that way.

They tell me, why try to fit
into a white man's world?

I don't believe I or any Negro
can help but feel inferior.

Scouting's one program
where I'm nearly an equal.

I can compete with white boys
and get the same recognition.

I'd like to be
the first Negro Eagle Scout
in the city.

But somehow I'm stuck.

I don't know whether it's me
or the Scout leadership.

I've always wanted
to be an athlete.

And I know you can't give up
all your strength on girls...

and expect to give your best
in athletic games.

But when I was 14,

I had sex for the first time
with a girl,

and I thought I was hot stuff.

I'll never forget
the experience...

because for weeks
I was darn near eaten up.

I had to go to my father,
and he just laughed.

I've seen lots of people...

whose actions
make me dislike them,

even despise them.

But my father says we should
be fighting for our rights,

not picking fights.

But at times,
I've just itched to take
a crack at a white guy...

just to see if he can take it
like he can dish it.

When I get disrespected,
I get so angry I could explode.

I want to appeal
to all the people of Harlem...

for your complete cooperation...

in order to bring
to a speedy end...

this most
unfortunate condition...

which was brought about
by a few rowdies and hoodlums.

And during the past 10 days,

the zoot-suit warfare
here in Los Angeles.

Mobs attacked and roughed up
harmless citizens
of Mexican descent.

Cars were stopped,
the occupants pulled out,
doors ripped from the cars.

That's what happens when the mob
starts to take things
into its own hands.

Why would young people
fight for democracy...

if we're just gonna be treated
like second

Aside from the physical
evidences of the war,

the psychological
impact of the war
is of extreme importance...

in consideration of the conduct
of the children at this time.

The lid had blown off,

and all our anger poured out.

And they searched
for a reason why.

Have you ever had
any obsessions?

Ideas that drive you
to do something?

Well, yeah, I guess so.

I remember when I was a kid
I used to have spells...

where I was afraid
to touch a knife
for fear I'd cut my throat.

Upon America's youth,

the excitement and
emotional tension of war...

is today exerting
an influence...

which psychiatrists fear
may be felt for years to come.

And the conversion to all-out
war effort of American industry
and the American community...

has confronted
many young people,
like their elders,

with a profound
and unsettling change
in their manner of living.

The depression was long gone.

Millions of people
were on the move,

just going where the work was.

Dad's working again all hours.

Mom too.

So I'm at home alone a lot.

It gets a little lonely.

Freed from parental authority,

youngsters are venturing
into new and unwholesome worlds.

Experiments with new sensations,
such as the smoking
of marijuana,

are tempting
more and more teenage youngsters
along dangerous paths.

To many adolescent girls,

even those
in their earliest teens,

war is opening up avenues
of unaccustomed excitement.

To them any man in uniform
seems a hero.

And in towns crowded
with footloose soldiers
or sailors,

it is easy for them
to get passing attention
they could not normally expect.

Do you realize
what time it is?

Oh, Mother, don't be such
an old fuddy-duddy.

No!

Is it wise for a girl
of your age to go steady
with just one boy, June?

Well, Miss Norton, I don't think
a girl should confine her
dating schedule to just one boy.

She needs the companionship
of all of them.

* There's a girl named Kate,
and she thinks
she's really great *

* But she's not

* All the boys stare
at the girl with blonde hair
It's not fair *

They called us Victory Girls.

Khaki Whaki young women.

Juvenile delinquents.

Are you pregnant?

Yes! Yes, I am!

Johnny
and 200,000 other youngsters
who are arrested each year...

are America's
number one crime problem.

Now what will become
of this boy?

Will he be
fingerprinted, photographed,

given a permanent
criminal record at 15?

Will he grow up
in reformatories and prisons...

to become a bitter
and seasoned criminal?

Can't something be done...

to help
these twisted young lives
and set them straight?

Golly, what do you suppose
is going to happen to us now?

To keep youngsters away
from dives and drinking places,

there is the dry nightclub,

organized and operated
by the local
young people themselves.

Where they exist,
experience has shown...

that most youngsters
prefer these clubs
to more dubious hangouts.

We had a right
to a place of our own.

And adults started to realize
that maybe some freedom
might make us behave.

So we started
our own social clubs.

They were called teen canteens.

This is fun, isn't it?
Yeah!

You're sure you like
to do things like this?
Sure.

I thought all girls
wanted fellas to take them
to fancy places...

and spend lots of money.
Not this girl.

We called the clubs
The Jive Hive,

The Buzz Bucket,
The Swing Haven, Hepcat Hall,

Rhythm Rocker,
Boogie and The Strut Hut.

Hear the names?

Proves that they're really ours.

The canteen has its own laws
about closing,

and the members obey them.

Some people may question
our behavior when we keep
the canteen open until 11:00.

Nobody has to stay here
till 11:00 just because
the canteen is still open.

There's no law that says you
have to stay or you have to go.

I have heard people talking
about your late hours here.

You'd better realize
that the town could pass a law.

You see, whatever the community
decides is best for itself...

usually becomes law.

The community?
Well, aren't we part
of the community?

Well, of course
you are, Jack.

Don't you think
it would be better...

if the canteen were
to pass its own law
to close weeknights at 10:30?

And so Jack is learning
about social controls.

Social controls,
moral code and law...

have always played a part
in the activities
of the teen canteen.

These leaders--

the Hitlers and the Goebbels
and the Görings...

and, uh, so forth...

have built up, uh--
I don't know--

some sort
of a demi-godliness about them.

The youth of Germany--
they have likes and dislikes,

and they want freedom
just as much as other people do.

The tide turned...

and bombs rained from the sky.

There were sirens
every night...

and several terrible attacks.

We wanted to run away
from this misery.

It didn't matter where to,
just away.

Still,

there were some
who resisted Hitler's will.

For years,

underground gangs
like the Edelweiss Pirates
escaped into nature--

far away from the regime.

They declared eternal war
on the Hitler Youth.

In Cologne,

they started a campaign
of anti-Hitler graffiti,

vandalism and sabotage.

In just one month
600 of them were arrested.

The Gestapo made
an example of them.

Kids of 13 or 14
were sent to the front.

The old had sent us to die,

and there was no turning back.

My parents died in a night
bombing attack by the British.

The sight of smoking ruins
became a daily occurrence.

I believed that I would not
outlive the Third Reich.

If it was condemned to go under,

then so was I.

I was no longer able
to suppress the realization...

that all the sacrifices
had been in vain.

**

* Fifteen thousand times a day

* I hear a voice within me say

* "Hide yourself
behind a screen *

* You shouldn't be heard
You shouldn't be seen *

* You're just
an awful in-between" *

* I'm past the stage
of doll and carriage *

* And not the age

* To think of marriage

* I'm too old for toys,
and I'm too young for boys *

* I'm just an in-between

* I'm not a child

* All children bore me

* I'm not grown up

* Grown-ups ignore me

* And in every sense
I'm just on a fence *

* I'm just an in-between *

There's nothing
worse than a dope...

who tries to look old
or sophisticated,

so all the makeup we use
is just powder and lipstick.

But we're fussy about lipstick.

The right shade
can make or break.

Of course clothes
are awfully important.

If a girl doesn't dress right,
the way everyone else
is dressing,

well, she's just out.

She might as well be dead.

I don't mean she needs
a lot of clothes,

and they don't have
to be expensive,
but they have to be right,

or she just labels herself
a crumb for life.

What's this?

What's what?

Well, Jen, you're not
going to Emily's party
in those clothes, are you?

Oh, Mother,
it's only a hen party.

Do you want them to think
I'm different or something?

Oh, all right.

Bye.

Be home early.

Before Pearl Harbor,
I was playing with paper dolls.

After Pearl Harbor,

I never played with dolls again.

I'm part of the war effort now.

Workers for victory.

The National Youth
Administration schooling
in skilled mechanical trades,

and you earn while you learn.

And note the nifty
new costumes too: blue jeans.

So here's your chance
to take a slap at a Jap.

The army of industry needs you.

I'm earning my own money.

I'm not a little kid anymore.

And I want to be treated
like an equal.

I suppose you're
going out again tonight.

Yeah.
So what?

Jimmy, you have no business
staying out half the night...

and coming home
all liquored up.

Look, I'm getting
sick and tired
of being treated like a kid.

I'm making
as much money as you are,

and I have a right
to have a little fun.

All the big businesses...

were starting to understand
how important we were.

We are endeavoring
to evaluate
your group's social habits.

Could you tell us
in your own words?

I can walk into a store...

and buy clothes,
records, magazines...

all aimed right at me.

Department stores,

waking up to
the special market represented
by some six million girls...

are earnestly concentrating
on giving this exacting
clientele what it wants.

We're the bosses
of the business now.

A Big Bang.
Uh, chocolate--

With chocolate sauce.

And, uh,
marshmallows, nuts.

How about a cherry?
A cherry.

They called us subdebs.

You'd see us
all over the magazines.

We weren't debutantes at all.

Just regular
old high school kids.

But it sounded fancy.

And we sure like fancy.

I love being 17.

I wish I could stay this age
for a while.

Seventeen is that perfect spot
between adolescence--

which means
you're going somewhere--

and adulthood-- which means
you're on the downgrade.

**

Thank you very much,
ladies and gentlemen.

Whether they
called us hooligans,

flappers,
jitterbugs or subdebs,

we knew who we were.

The time had come...

to declare it.

The article came out
in the New York Times.

The Teen-Age Bill of Rights.

A declaration.

A manifesto.

It was like a contract
between the generations.

From the beginning
of man's life on earth,

there have been
but two generations:
the old and the young.

And throughout
the world's history,

in every nation
and in every time,

the lives and fortunes
of the young...

have been inevitably ruled
by the dictates of the old...

who have called upon youth
to enforce their aims
and impose their will.

Of all the world's youth,

none are more fortunate
by birthright and inheritance...

than the 21 million
boys and girls
between the ages of 16 and 24...

who constitute one vast
and glamorous society.

Today no one portion
of the American population...

is more consistently admired
than its young men and women.

For since the postwar days
of the flapper,

speakeasy and flaming youth,

America's youngsters have led
the styles and set the pace...

for the young
of every other nation.

Each generation feels
that it is the future.

To the teenager,

nothing is more important--

Than to find out
where we fit in...

in relation to life around us.

It is a serious quest.

Often a painful one.

Two atomic bombs
three days apart.

Japan has surrendered.

And there's jubilation
around this earth.

This is a story
that ends with a beginning.

The old world was over,

and a new figure emerged.

It would become
the model for youth...

that still exists today.

The teenager.

American culture kept
spreading around the world.

They took away our weapons...

and gave us Coca-Colas instead.

The teenager
was an American invention.

It's what we wanted to be.

We knew we could be
blown up in an instant.

So we lived in the now.

Teenage was
a compromise solution.

We got the freedom
we were looking for.

But adults
still had some control.

A lot of people try
to shape the future.

Parents, the government,

bankers, the police.

But it's the young ones
who will live in it.

And we are the ones
who will fight for it.