Lessons in resilience from growing up in the 1970s
I grew up watching films like Papillon (1973), The Naked Prey (1965), and The French Connection (1971). These weren’t simply entertaining movies. They awakened something in me—a sense of resourcefulness, determination, and the ability to persevere through adversity.
Of all these films, Papillon, starring Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman, left perhaps the deepest impression.
Here was a man stripped of nearly everything: freedom, dignity, comfort, and control over his circumstances. Yet he refused to surrender his will. He survived not because he was the strongest or most powerful, but because he was resourceful, observant, patient, and relentlessly determined.
What fascinated me was that survival wasn’t simply about toughness. It required creativity, strategy, humility, and the willingness to learn from others. Local knowledge, relationships, and an understanding of one’s environment could become force multipliers against seemingly overwhelming institutional power.
The Naked Prey reinforced these lessons. Intelligence, adaptability, and knowledge of the natural world could overcome superior numbers and resources. Sometimes the person who understood the terrain had a greater advantage than those who possessed all the power.
Growing up in the 1970s, these films resonated with something already developing within me. They didn’t create my resilience; they awakened it. They helped me understand that adversity wasn’t necessarily something to fear or avoid. It was something to navigate, learn from, and sometimes overcome through unconventional means.
I don’t regret the hardships I’ve experienced. They’ve taught me lessons that comfort and predictability never could.
I sometimes wonder whether we’ve lost something in contemporary storytelling. Too often, I see either shocking violence without meaningful lessons or an overprotective worldview that treats adversity primarily as something from which we must be shielded. What I miss are stories celebrating ordinary people developing extraordinary resourcefulness.
Perhaps the greatest lesson these films taught me was that life isn’t linear. We imagine progress as a straight line, but the lived experience is often curvilinear—full of detours, setbacks, unexpected discoveries, and transformations.
Sometimes the winding path teaches us far more than the direct one.
Looking back, I realize these films helped prepare me for the unpredictable challenges of my own life. They taught me to toughen both body and mind, to respect local knowledge over distant authority, and to recognize that intelligence and creativity can overcome seemingly insurmountable odds.
They didn’t teach me how to avoid hardship. They taught me how to move through it.
And perhaps that’s the most important lesson we can pass along to the next generation: not that life will be easy, but that they can become capable, resourceful, and resilient enough to navigate whatever comes their way.
