A Different Breed

 
In a recent post, my friend Sunny asked if we (referring to our generation) are a different breed.  The crux of the post is a philosophical question asking if we would have cared more or been less mischievous if we had social media.  Sunny claims that she would be far more cautious, because she was concerned about what others knew about her.  Conversely, kids today do attention-grabbing stuff just for the sake of getting attention.  While her comment is not fully inaccurate, I do think it's a bit... incomplete.

I'd like to start by sharing a truism:  Every generation believes they're special and unique, and they unfailingly deride their descendants as softer and weaker, while simultaneously dismissing previous generations as out of touch for failing to understand the unique challenges of the day.  I'd like to propose the idea that two opposing philosophies can be true, and use my experience as an example.  I'm gonna go with the crazy short version, because I'm trying to make a point.

My mom's dad fought in WWII as a Marine.  He saw some serious shit!  Many, many men from that generation saw shit that nobody should have to witness, and it was considered normal.  However, after they got home, things reverted to normalcy.  That generation saw the largest economic boom in American history, and when my grandfather died, he literally had stacks of gold coins in his house.  Between that and investments, my mom and her siblings inherited a nice little nest egg.  His was the last generation where an employee could expect to work a lifetime with a single company and receive a gold watch at retirement time.  They were a different breed.

My dad grew up relatively poor.  Born in the mid-1940's, his childhood home had an outhouse... within the city limits.  But he was able to attend college at an affordable cost, and do so as the sole breadwinner for the family.  My mom was a stay-at-home mom, but this was relatively unusual for my generation.  Most of my friends had two-person incomes, but it was optional during this time.  They were a different breed.

Despite the fact that my mom stayed at home, I was for all intents and purposes a latchkey kid.  I was generally kicked out of the house in the morning and told to not come home until meal time.  I can't count how many times I'd come home because I needed to use the bathroom, but the door was locked and my mom wouldn't answer.  I'd piss in the back yard, drink from the garden hose, and continue on my merry way.  For lack of a better way to phrase it, my mom was the worst combination of neglect and helicopter parent, and because I was in a one income family, I was relatively poor.  I joined the military so I could afford college, because this was when costs had just started to skyrocket.  We were a different breed.

My kids had two working parents; they were on the very tail end of free range parenting, and at the very early end of social media.  Many of their peers were borderline neglected, finding "friendship" through social media.  They're also the first generation to experience participation trophies and where there's no such thing as failing at school.  We all know how that's turned out.  They were a different breed.

My grandkids are growing up in an age where their every move and every feeling is monitored and parsed.  Kids of today can't do anything without it being recorded, and every feeling needs counseling.  People from my generation and before are dismayed, and deride this as soft, but we need to acknowledge this isn't the kids' fault.  They are a different breed.

Now, let's wrap this back to the beginning.  Yeah, kids do attention-grabbing stuff, but this is nothing new.  I grew up in an era with the class clown.  Every boy wanted to get with the cheerleader, and we were all jealous of the adoration the team quarterback received.  We all wanted attention, and sought it in our own way.  The difference was the lack of social media.  It's not that kids have changed.  They still want to be loved and adored.  The big difference is that the stage is far larger, so it's far more difficult to stand out.  So yes, we are a different breed, but that's true of every generation.