the generation gap
What is it, if anything, that really sets different age groups apart?
It was a seminal experience for two reasons. One: that first VHS viewing of Reality Bites would cause me to imitate Winona Ryder in all things for the rest of my teens. Two: it was from that movie that I learned what generation X was, and that I was part of it.
Did generations have names before the ’90s or had I just not heard of them? Either way, in the 23 years since Reality Bites, two more generations have been born, and as many more identified and parsed. After X came Y, the millennials, then gen Z. Because the boundaries between them keep shifting, defining characteristics must be ascribed instead. Millennials, we’re told, are entitled, flaky, easily triggered. Gen X, ironic, mildly depressive, hardworking but squeezed from above and below. But for millennials trying to grow up and gen X working out how to be old, are these sorting systems helpful or a hindrance?
Our identities are already dependent on our age. We’re in our twenties, we ought to be having fun. We’re in our thirties, we should have kids. We’re 40, does that make us invisible? Each decade makes us re-evaluate who we are and where we fit into work, society and culture. But being lumbered with a label makes that already difficult process much harder.
Think about it: millennials have been called the “unluckiest generation”, born in financial downtimes, unlikely ever to buy property and ruing the day they ever thought to put avocado on toast. They’re derided for being so sensitive they can’t get through a job interview without a parent by their side. But when they attempt to step up, they’re accused of “adulting”. A whole generation is being treated like the baby of a family, and it’s humiliating. Is it a surprise that 60 per cent of adults in this age group resist being tagged as millennials?
Gen X is hardly better off. No sooner did we wrest leadership off the baby boomers did millennials spring up. They’re more vocal, more adept at social media, more innovative and unafraid to flout convention, and it makes us feel old. For those of us “lucky” enough to have million-dollar mortgages, the implications of ageing out of relevance are scary.
Two generations, unhappily boxed. So why do we still use the stereotypes against each other? In doing so, we all miss out. The flow of ideas, the interchange of culture. Gen X sharing what we’ve learned so far, millennials keeping us on our toes. Instead of resenting millennials for picking over Xers’ cultural contribution, feel flattered they’ve appropriated our grunge. Millennials, please teach us what a subtweet is. And don’t we all love Friends? There’s more that unites us than divides us. And the fact that nobody still can decide where one generation ends and the other begins shows what a false demarcation it always was; there only to satisfy human nature’s innate need to divide and sort. Maybe it’s my gen X propensity for nostalgia talking, but it’s hard not to think how liberating it would be to go back to when there were only adults and children and Winona Ryder.
CAN “THE DECIDEFACT THAT WHERE NOBODY ONE GENERATION ENDS AND THE OTHER BEGINS SHOWS WHAT A FALSE DEMARCATION IT IS”