I HATE YOU ALL.

Can I have a cookie?

Ozpin sipped his coffee as he checked the papers given to him by the newly opened Beacon Gazette. He sighed internally at some of the articles complaining about the passing grade, which he would not change even if a gun was pointed to his head, and a bunch of complaints from the new first years who acted like a bunch of spoiled brats about wanting to establish a communist rule and social justice and whatnot. He chuckled and shook his head when reading this. Did they really publish all of this? "This is just ridiculous..."

"Ozpin, you do know they're allowed to voice their opinions right? That was the whole point of this right?" He nodded, and looked at her.

"Yes I know. But have you given thought about what they do in general? If allowed, their wants, not needs, would tear society apart and they don't know it. It saddens me that so many children act as if the problems of other people are theirs too. Had they asked an actual faunus about what they feel should be done? Of course not, because they wouldn't listen if it didn't align with their state of mind." He took a sip from his coffee. "They don't live in the real world, Glynda. and I'm not for letting their toxic opinions reach the eyes of our students." He tossed the papers into the trash and got up.

"Ozpin, I know you only want the best for the students, but you hired them to do this for a reason."

"Yes; to report the going on's around Beacon. Not to complain or mutilate the facts and complain about non-existent issues... Maybe this was a mistake, but it's still raising money..." To him, this was a disaster. He had allowed this to happen and he couldn't do anything. It would be unfair and he'd be forced to reopen the school paper out of eventual necessity. He looked down at his desk, scanning over the new articles sent in. They didn't need to send these in to him at all. New reports where sent in to an editor or someone authorized to edit any of this. Something caught his eye and he grabbed it.

His eyes scanned the page and he stood up.

"I'll be right back..." He left his office, leaving a confused Glynda to sort his papers out once again. She sighed and got to work.

Thousands of students would never usually read from an actual piece of paper, but word of mouth spread fast about the 'Offensive' open letter written to the social justice warriors. It was an odd letter, not written with care or detail, but with facts. And those facts where heard. Ruby, being curious and forced by Yang, bought a copy of the gazette and found it.

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE YOUTH OF REMNANT

Dear Millenials,

Your reputation precedes you.

What I hear from the media is that you're ill-equipped for the real world. You've been raised by helicopter parents, and you can't cope with the possibility of failure or starting at the bottom of the totem pole. I hear your eyes never leave your phones, and your young men have spent so much time playing video games they lack the social skills to date and marry. I hear you're living in your parents' basements, watching reality TV, and waiting for the perfect job to land in your lap.

So far and few in between do I ever find a child who isn't offended for a race that is not their own and don't bother to, because it would not benefit either side. Your opinions damage the minds of others, stirring hate for you because you are ignorant and do not bother to hear the other side, out of fear of losing.

The notion of you forcing your ideals on others sickens me, because it makes you no better than the White Fang, a group who would behead you for simply being human. They don't care about you and neither do the rest of the people living in the real world.

You complain about safe spaces and are offended when someone calls you out on it, because you are soft.

I should say that I am one of your own. I have seen injustice. I have felt it withing my own community. But the difference is that I take charge to change the world by helping others. Not complaining.

So I must ask; are you ready to join us in the real world? Are you ready to open your eyes to the harsh reality, and work to fix it? Or will you perish holding those meaningless signs, with your hands covering your ears?

The choice is yours

Yours Truly, John J. Righteous-Hypocrite

Bite me. Free speech exists.

Yes I really am a millennial