Will they use their powers for good...... ?

"There are more people on facebook today than there were on this earth 200 years ago...."

Jason Russell begins his movie "Kony 2012" by presenting us with a world we never could have imagined even a decade ago. Facebook has turned our worlds upside down, and suddenly, an American with a knack for videography and an aggressive social networking strategy has the attention of the entire world.

It's an exciting world we live in, and the possibilities are endless. Facebook helped a nation come together and (almost) peacefully overthrow an oppressive regime in Egypt last year. Social networking keeps me in touch with my family back in New York, and my dear friends across the globe in Uganda. Facebook is the center of many non-profits' advertising, awareness and fundraising campaigns. One post holds more potential power than the most influential politician. As Jason says, "we are shaping human history."

There is no doubt. We have incredible power. As Americans, we hold a privileged position—we are literate, have unlimited access to electricity and wireless internet, and most of us have the means to hop a flight to Africa and witness first-hand the atrocity and injustices occurring outside of the comfort of our first world problems. "To whom much has been given, much will be required." My generation has the weight of this privilege on their shoulders.

How will we use it? My childhood is stained with the vivid images of starving Somalian children, and the endless guilt of Rwanda, a tragedy that could have been prevented, but wasn't, because nobody cared. I bought a plane ticket around the same time Jason did, hoping to relieve some of this guilt. I found myself making similar promises that he did—"I will do everything I can to help you...."

But somehow, Jason's vow got carried away. A promise to help a child turned into a relentless campaign to capture and kill one man: Joseph Kony. To reach the masses, he took a complex political situation and turned it into something a five-year-old could understand. "You stop big bad guys from being mean," explains Jason's five-year-old, Gavin. Well put.

The result is, as my former professor, Mahmood Mamdani (a Ugandan and one of the most insightful, passionate, and wise individuals I have ever experienced) explains, we have divorced morality from politics. In the war against good and evil, as Jason frames this fight, there are no questions asked, and no room for complexity. Our facebook posts, tweets, and short Youtube videos have no space for the complex history, the varying opinions, and the circumspect, thoughtful, and sometimes undramatic response that is necessary.

Inspired by guilt, and armed with our influence, we have somehow come to the conclusion that since we have the power to, we should intervene. In fact we MUST—we are the only possible saviors in this war against good and evil.

Kony's army has dwindled to the hundreds, and though they still mercilessly attack civilians, they are not the world's biggest threat, nor should they be America's highest priority. And worse, in an attempt to help 5-year-olds, celebrities, and billionaires understand the conflict, we may have made it a bit too simple. There is no doubt that Kony is a "big bad guy." But in our rush to pick teams, we may not have chosen the best "good guys." Mamdani explains some of the complex political dynamics behind this conflict in his recent article. Among other things, he points out that the Ugandan army, who we are training and arming, was recently accused of violence against DRC civilians, while on its mission to kill Kony. They also have a history of violence and oppression in northern Uganda, and may have caused more deaths than even the bad guy himself.

In Jason's 30 minute video, a Ugandan politician held the screen for less than ten seconds. All other African voices were children, and an occasional comment from Invisible Children's Ugandan program director. Jason's proclamation that we can "change the course of human history" is followed by clips of young, passionate, united, WHITE people. Who's cause is this?

This generation is faced with a question. How will we use our influence? Will it be to speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves? Will we give the voiceless a voice—and then actually listen to them? I have heard from several Ugandans over the past few days, and read many articles by Ugandans. All of them agree that Invisible Children's campaign is not what they asked for or need.

Or will we instead use our influence to hog the limelight, and refuse to give up the place of savior? This kind of selfishness, no matter what cause its clothed in, will never change the world.