The kids are alright
The other night, my wife and I were with two of our three kids for dinner. By the end of the evening, both kids had both succumbed to tears. Sure, graduations are exciting times, filled with accolades and congratulations. Pageantry, pomp, and parties. But they are also fraught with anticipation, anxiety, and fear. Transitions are always tough, especially for kids. In this case, though, I couldn’t help but feel there was more going on.
I remember my own graduations. At my high school graduation, somehow, I was really only thinking about the summer ahead. I had a relatively small but good group of friends. Our summers were mostly spent at the pool — lifeguarding, coaching, swimming, and sunning. College lay ahead, but I don’t think I had any genuine awareness of how challenging it might be. I’d spent the summer before my senior year at Davidson College’s July Experience program. It was just a taste of college, but enough of a taste that I felt confident I was going to love it. Williams College was going to be a whole new world, and I was ready for it.
By the end of summer, though, it had sunk in that nothing would be the same. Time spent with my friends became bittersweet. There wasn’t going to be any returning to this place and the people we were. I knew when we all returned, we’d be different. I’d be different. I was sad, but mostly, I was excited for this opportunity, this chance to reinvent myself, to escape. I think my parents probably thought I was a little too excited.
With my kids, I don’t really worry that I’m losing them. Of course, I’m sad that those days of having little ones waiting for me when I come home at the end of the day are over. Weekends filled with soccer games, chess tournaments, and ballet classes, all done. I miss those days already. And I’m aware of the statistics that 75% of the time we spend with our kids will be spent by age 12. Even worse, once they graduate high school and leave home for college, 90% of the time we will ever spend with them is over. I try not to dwell on these numbers.
My college graduation was a different story. By the time it was over, I was utterly overcome with emotion. For a minute, I literally felt that I had had the wind knocked out of me, choking on tears, completely unable to speak. This shit had gotten real. I was not only leaving college, I was leaving this chosen family of friends as well as my childhood home for good. I was moving to a new city, preparing to start a job to support myself. This was the beginning of the rest of my life, and I was completely on my own. I wasn’t so scared of being alone that I considered moving back to Atlanta, but I was certainly anxious about the future.
What I worry about now is, did we prepare our kids for the world they are about to enter? The decisions that lie ahead? Harder still, are we ready for them to make them?
From the time our children were young, we attempted to instill in them a sense that anything was possible, that a deep pursuit of their passions was the path to happiness and fulfillment. Being among the oldest Gen Xers, I wasn’t given that kind of advice and direction. I wasn’t discouraged from pursuing my interests, but I also wasn’t given a real sense that the world was my oyster. My parents were well aware of the harsh realities of life and were more focused on making sure that we were prepared for a life of hard work than on shielding us from those challenges. I knew it took money to have a comfortable life, more than we had, apparently, because I never really got the sense that my parents felt financially “comfortable.”
I was fortunate enough to end up with a career that’s been fulfilling, but what if I’d been encouraged to consider other options, options that would have satisfied my creative interests. Architecture, journalism, or design? With my children, I was going to make sure that they considered career paths that brought them joy, including careers in the arts. Music, dance, education.
But if I am being honest, these choices are likely as scary for them as they would have been for me. And now that these choices are upon them, I’m scared for them! What was I thinking? What self-respecting parent would encourage their children to consider a career where “good offers” pay $400 a week for a 32-week contract? What kind of parent would want to see their children waiting tables to pay the bills between gigs? Or having multiple side-hustles in order to support themselves while teaching middle school? Seriously, what did I do?
I came across a piece published by Pew Research Center where academics, policy wonks, entrepreneurs, venture capitalists, and others were invited to prognosticate about 2025. In addition to predicting a future that would be far more tech-driven and presented with more big challenges, they also expressed some hope for the future. They offered hope for social justice and well-being. They suggested that technology will be refocused on equity and justice, social goods, and solving humanity’s big problems.
This is an inflection point in history, a true crossroads moment. Deep changes to society, especially regarding technology, could blossom in multiple directions.
— Maggie Jackson, Former Boston Globe Columnist and Author of “Distracted: Reclaiming our Focus in a World of Lost Attention”
Trust and cooperation will take center stage. Some believe humanity is prepared to reinvent or revamp some of its major structures and systems, including market capitalism.
Gen Z and Gen Alpha, with values deeply rooted in transparency, truth, ethics and inclusion, will hold brands accountable for the promises of 2020 to address equity, social justice and sustainability issues.
— Terri Horton, Futures Strategist and Founder/CEO of Futurepath
Some argued that technologies such as artificial intelligence, augmented reality, and data analytics could actually make human systems safer, more humane, and more positive with beneficial impacts on our quality of life.
As a result, 2025 will be less about efficient rapid transit, affordable housing and school districts, and more about quality of life. As a result, current urban planning strategies are defunct.
— Al Sisto, CEO at Tern PLC
Of course, these things aren’t just happening by themselves. They are changes that are and will be driven by this generation of young people. Gen Z is forcing us to re-evaluate our moral and ethical priorities. Not surprisingly, in their careers, they value fulfillment and making a difference over making money.
In his opinion piece this week, David Brooks puts a spotlight on the psychologist Jean Twenge’s new book, “Generations,” in which she describes members of Gen Z now practicing what some researchers call the “slow life strategy.” Under this approach, young people postpone the common milestones of adulthood until later in life. This strategy didn’t start with Gen Z, but Twenge argues that Gen Z has pushed it to a degree not previously seen.
Members of Gen Z are, for example, content to get their driver’s licenses later than earlier generations. As high school seniors, they are less likely to do the things associated with adulthood and independence, like drinking alcohol, working for pay or having sex. When members of Gen X were in ninth grade, nearly 40 percent of them had had sex (I wasn’t in this large minority). By 2021, only 15 percent of Gen Z ninth graders had.
Brooks tries to withhold judgment, claiming “It makes perfect sense. People are living longer. If it’s now possible to run for president at age 80, then it’s prudent and wise to pace yourself through life.” But he goes on to blame Gen Z’s embrace of “slow life” on Gen X’s hypercautious parenting and Gen Z’s exaggerated sense of fear and menace. It is true that Gen Z has a certain pessimism that I have argued isn’t healthy, but I think their adoption of a slow approach to life has merit — and something to teach the rest of us.
The next morning, after our evening of tears, my college-graduating son (who thoughtfully navigated the evening’s heightened emotions like a seasoned counselor, keeping us all focused on moving forward) shared a new song that he’s working on with a friend. The working title is Asking for a Light. They are using their music to work through exactly what I’ve been writing about here. Moving forward. Managing your fears. Chasing your dreams. Taking your time.
And there’s still hope, my dear
For all the smoke to clear
And there’s still hope, my dear
For all the smoke to clear
It’s alright to take some time
It’s no crime to fall behind
It’s your life, I know you’ll find it
Asking for a light
— excerpt from demo track of Asking for a Light, written and performed by Jackson Craig and Sam Everett, Woodworks
This time I was the one crying. I thought I was afraid for them, but it turns out that I’m projecting my own Gen X insecurities. I think they’ve got it figured out. Or at least, they’ve got an approach to figuring it out. They’re not just going to pursue their passions, they’re going to reshape the world to fit their values while doing it.
