From December 19 to 21, Barranquilla will host the National Youth Assembly. According to Law 1885 of 2018, this event should be the pinnacle of youth participation in Colombia: two thousand young people gathered to debate, propose, and develop a national agenda. In theory. Because in practice, several delegations arrive more concerned with the trip, a photo on the beach, and souvenirs from “La Arenosa” than with the political purpose of the gathering.
And we must speak about this without hesitation: it is increasingly evident that some young people are not attending these events to contribute, but rather to take a vacation at public expense. It’s no secret. You can see it in the chats, the WhatsApp groups, the conversations before the trip: “Where should we meet?”, “What are our plans for tonight?”, “What are we going to drink?” As for the political agenda, very little. As for analysis, almost nothing.
The problem isn’t the trip itself—I’m a firm believer that politics is also built in non-institutional spaces. The problem is the carelessness with which we take for granted spaces that cost us decades of youth activism, from the Youth Citizenship Law to the creation of platforms, the CMJ, local processes, and networks that many young people defend every day through hard work and sacrifice. While some pull all-nighters writing reports, organizing working groups, and mobilizing for causes, others simply wait for the government or an institution to fund a weekend of political tourism for them.
In these scenarios, a harsh truth emerges: youth participation is threatened not only by a lack of guarantees from decision-makers but also by a lack of seriousness on the part of some young people. Because you cannot demand representation if, when it is granted, the response is indifference. You can’t talk about “influencing public policy” when the real interest is posting a story from the boardwalk or next to the Shakira monument. And even more seriously, this attitude ends up discrediting those who do put in the work—those who actually read documents, draft proposals, stay late at thematic roundtables, and believe that youth politics can transform realities.

This isn’t about demonizing the joy or the cultural experience of travel—traveling is valuable, and getting to know our country is even more so—but rather about remembering that these gatherings cost public resources, time, and public trust. Every seat occupied by a “political tourist” is a seat that could have been filled by an organized young person who actually had something to contribute, and that is where the problems are intensifying today, because the conversations revolve around who “deserves or does not deserve” to be in this Assembly—and it’s not my place to define the requirements— but being mindful of whom we fund to build is indeed a challenge we face as a country for every forum—whether they be Assemblies, accountability sessions, or departmental festivals—because all young people have the right to participate, but these guarantees that are demanded must also be returned to the people.
Hopefully, this Assembly in Barranquilla won’t turn into just another empty Instagram post. Hopefully, we’ll understand that traveling around the country doesn’t make us leaders—what makes us leaders is what we build when we arrive. And hopefully, those who go just for the sake of going, for the trend, or for a break, will at least have the decency not to call what is really just a subsidized weekend a “political process.”