Andrew Clark is the athlete, the jock, "Sporto," the varsity letterman, the full-ride scholarship best-bet, the macho man. His detention sentence is the result of an (uncharacteristically) vicious practical joke.


"Who taught our children to hate so thoroughly and so mercilessly?" David Dinkins, [Former] Mayor of New York City (Howe 27).

Andrew's "cutting-loose" by "taping the poor guy's buns together" is humorous, but it is also pathetic and sad. It is everyday violence, the kind found in high schools nationwide, just like when Andy's dad did it. Th problem is that much of the violence Breakfast Clubbers inflict upon each other has more serious consequences.

The first wave of Clubbers actually reversed the rise in juvenile crime. But the steady drop screeched to a halt in the mid-1980s, swinging back to a climb. Even during the dip in criminal activity, however, "the number of those arrested who were subsequently imprisoned skyrocketed (Holtz 94-5). On the upswing of the crime wave the acts themselves became more likely to be serious-more random, senseless, and savage. "Such heinous crimes deserve harsh sentences, and, in a reversal of precedent, that is what they got. Unlike in the seventies, when Boomer youths were entitled to sealed court records and relatively light sentences, the [Breakfast Clubbers] were dealt with more severely, and increasingly tried as adults" (Holtz 96). Thus what Holtz calls the "Free" generation is actually the most incarcerated of any in America's history.

But we're also the most supportive of measurements like capital punishment. We're just too tired of living amongst all the violence. As Andrew takes responsibility for his "crime," we want the truly violent criminals to, as well.

The Issues The Breakfast Club Generation