I’ve had my time in the sun – more than enough, if we’re being honest. People have liked me, too. I’m not in the twilight of my years by any means. Sure, parts of me might not work the way they used to, and other parts have needed some enhancements, but I still have plenty to offer. I plan to keep it that way for a few more decades at least.
However, I don’t think this world is built for me anymore, nor should it be. In my 20s, and even more so in my 30s, I fought tooth and nail to carve out a little authority for myself. I did so under the misguided belief that legitimacy needed to be seized at someone else’s expense. It’s a rite of passage – my father had done the same during his youthful rebellion, as did his father before him.
To the credit of my parents’ generation, when they recognized it was my time to step into society’s spotlight in my 40s, they passed the proverbial torch. Many retired; some simply faded into the background. They too operated under a false assumption, having bought into the belief that we would care for them, invite them into our homes in their final chapters, and provide solace as they faced their mortality. Many of us failed in that duty, and continue to do so.
We took that power, and it was intoxicating. We quickly learned that greed was good, and we reveled in it. Consume, consume, consume. I entered the workforce with that mentality – it motivated me. I scoff when my contemporaries deride their children for following their passions, but were we not once driven by something ourselves? Is the desire to be the highest earner, the best provider, not a passion we thought worth pursuing? But I digress.
We took that power and never let it go. That’s the issue, the reason I feel compelled to write today. The world around me feels astoundingly foreign. Yes, the technology, landscapes, even the language has changed (honestly, I stopped trying to keep up in 2005). But more than that, the natural order feels out of balance. I see men in their late 30s and early 40s grasping for that nebulous thing I once craved, while we dangle it teasingly out of reach. I see men just a few years my senior, who 30-40 years ago would have long faded into the background, making decisions with lasting effects that will endure long after they’re gone. It feels amiss.
I am lying in someone else’s bed, and I am uncomfortable.
This imbalance extends beyond the personal and into the societal. The gap between the haves and have-nots seems to widen with each passing year. The “American Dream” I once frothed at the mouth over – that promise of upward mobility and a better life for each generation – feels more and more like a cruel joke. I’ve benefited greatly from it, but for what reason? Because I was slightly better at reading at 16? Because I had the sense to work a summer job to afford tuition at 19? I don’t say that to diminish my life’s work, but I see people today working two, three times harder than I ever did to make it a fraction as far. We’ve created a system where the deck is stacked against some, where once-abundant opportunities have become scarce.
And yet, despite this, I see a generation that largely refuses to be deterred. They are passionate, loud, and determined to prove their point – and prove it they will, though I attribute that to the symptoms of youth. But beyond that, I see these people caring about things so deeply, so personally, in a way that is unfathomable to me. I was young once; I remember righteous indignation, I remember wanting to end apartheid…but not so personally. It truly amazes me.
It is a noble fight, one that I admire. But it is also a fight that I fear may be doomed to failure. The forces arrayed against them are formidable, entrenched, and well-funded. The system is designed to resist change, to maintain the status quo at all costs.
So where does that leave us?
The generation before me, though dwindling, is still hanging on against all odds – their wisdom from a bygone era tucked away in nursing homes and assisted living facilities, ignored and unappreciated. Multiple generations below me are clawing their way up, just trying to get their footing. And here is my massive generation, one that always seemed to take up too much space, living in a world no longer made for us. Consume, consume, consume.