Andy Ryan
Perhaps a first kiss. A first beer. A first gig. Whatever it may be, I hope you have some teenage memories to treasure. But do you remember that time when you, your friends, and your teacher uncovered a vast mafia-linked conspiracy poisoning the local water supply? I thought not, but that’s how I know you didn’t go to Middletown High School. Teenage Wasteland tells the story of a maverick teacher who turns his “Electronic English” class into an investigative journalism powerhouse.
Equipped with cameras, curiosity, and chutzpah, Fred Isseks and his students uncover the grim story of the dumping of toxic waste in Middletown. You would expect oozing chemicals on a landfill site above aquifers linked to the community’s drinking water to demand a response. Fred and his class, however, face a battle to get those in power to care. Teenage Wasteland is a documentary that combines footage from the original film that the class made in the 90s (the brilliantly named Garbage, Gangsters and Greed) with interviews with Isseks and his students thirty years on.
A student remembers that Isseks “never felt like a teacher” and “talked to every student like they were an equal”. By showing this approach in action, the film asks what education should and can be. Traditionally, we see school as a closed environment where students learn knowledge and skills that prepare them to one day be adults in the wider world. Isseks doesn’t see it like that. Instead, he puts his students straight into the world. Where better to learn?
They learn fast. One of the most compelling parts of the film is watching the students interview senior figures as part of their investigations. Understandably, these teenagers are sometimes nervy and awkward, but they improve over time. The interviewees often start relaxed, confident that they’re going to run rings around these “kids”. Then witness the looks of panic as they start getting the tough questions. It’s also striking and reflects well on the students that, though the tone of the interviews may be tough, the questioning is respectful.
It’s common to gripe about how performative youth activism can often be. Going on the march and wearing the t-shirt with the slogan rather than making an impact. In contrast, we watch the students of Middletown doing the hard work of change. And it is hard. All their efforts achieve is, at best, a partial triumph. A fictional version of Teenage Wasteland would have more clear-cut villains, but here we have the dull but strong opposition of bureaucracy and vested interests. They learn that the truth isn’t enough in itself, and though the discoveries are thrilling, the persistence through endless town hall meetings matters just as much.
Teenage Wasteland does acknowledge concerns that were raised around Isseks’ methods, but I wonder if it’s a little quick to dismiss them. You can support the brilliance of his teaching while still admitting that there’s a tricky balance to strike between empowering your students and putting them at risk. Any teacher would worry about helping a student to break the law. The film notes that the school did eventually withdraw support for Issek. Without knowing the full story, I can’t help thinking it was quite impressive how long they did leave him to get on with his work.
Teenage Wasteland is a superbly made documentary. Yes, Amanda McBaine and Jesse Moss had the great benefit of a treasure trove of archive footage to work with, but it’s edited with great skill, and careful thought is given to the balance between past and present. Some viewers might want more detail on the scandal and its repercussions, but I think that’s missing the point. The film’s biggest discovery isn’t toxic waste but youthful potential.
Looking back thirty years later, the grown-up students speak with pride in their work. As well as passion for the cause, they talk about how much fun it was. They get emotional at the memories. As with any looking back on good times, there’s a hint of sadness. Was life ever this good again? How did the reality of adult life compare to fighting for justice with your friends? These questions hang over the reminiscences without ever quite being answered, but then they’re probably unanswerable.
I imagine, like many viewers of Teenage Wasteland, I kept asking “what are they all up to now?” and we do find out at the end. A couple has gone into filmmaking. Rachel Raimist, who became a director and a professor of film, says, “I grew up, I went to college, and I left, and the story continued.” The documentary then flashes through a few years as different students appear in front of the camera, still with Issek by their side, continuing the quest.
