The “Just Show Up” Generation

We were discussing cartoons.

“You know, we grew up on Scooby doo and The Smurfs, Sesame Street, School House Rock, and the like. And so did the people we know that are, some of them, upwards of a decade older than we are. That’s fine, but why can’t we relate to the kids two classes behind us in school?”

Because they didn’t have all that, they don’t remember the Smurfs. To them, Scooby Doo and the Transformers (remember them?) were OLD. We have in common with our near elders that we were raised on their left-overs. What we had as children was passed down from what worked for them. The kids after us got the new stuff after what we had was completely exhausted.”

And then Lizz read an essay that left her “tweaked off”. It said the following of the people in our generation (those of the 16-21 age group today)

“…Rushed and mediocre is what the “just show up generation” is all about. Why be great when you can be mediocre?” The essay then listed the things that we don’t, or can not do because of our mediocrity. Although we don’t swallow “wholesale bullshit” the way people once did, we don’t sing, break records, join circuses or believe that every great love is in some measure a mistake. And why should we? We grew up listening to other people’s music, there aren’t any circuses anymore and our parent’s broke more than their share of records simply because the sheer number of them. And as for love being a mistake: maybe we don’t believe that. Perhaps there is a reason for love. Let us think that.

In the essay, the questioned was posed: “Is anyone becoming a hero or heroine of their own imaginations? Is laughter still the best medicine?” as if to imply that we can not be heroes, that we can not laugh. And it was asked “Where is the noble purpose? The patient energy required for completion? The resolution undaunted by opposition?” I suppose, because we are all stereotyped as Ritalin patients incapable of paying attention.

It is unfortunate that we are so regarded by the elders we so nearly resemble.

It�s rather unfortunate that a good deal of material is directed against our generation. In all fairness, however, I cannot claim these diatribes unjust - we deserve your distaste (I�ll not call it loathing), and we certainly provoke your queries. And though I truly shudder to name myself actually a member of the “just show up generation”, I feel that it is my duty to speak up on our behalves.

We were just discussing the lack of hope, enthusiasm, and spirit in my generation. We came to a conclusion (though I must admit a rather paltry one - as if to prove the point that we cannot bring to completion anything we begin, that we have no zeal for answers, only questions): we have nothing left. You�ve taken it all. The generations before mine had new things, things geared towards their audience only. We got your leftovers, what remained of your cerebral feasts. You succeeded so well, so completely, in grabbing the world by its proverbial horns and hoisting it over your shoulder that the children in my generation were left only with dust and ashes. We got the shadows of your ideas, the lingering scent of your power, and the most meager shreds of your influence. All we can hope to be, then, are pitiful copies, like a print pressed well beyond its limits. We had no option.

Not to say that your generation(s) were raised in a world without problems - I will be the first to say that you had it rough. But in the last twenty years, the children have been taught to fear, to cower, and to shirk responsibility. It�s not our fault, but we must pay the price. We are a generation of loss, of loneliness (cleverly marketed as independence), and of a frightening dearth of love. The well of society has run dry. There isn’t enough to go around, to feed and sustain us all, so we learned from birth to take for ourselves anything we could manage. I know for fact that I was not the only four year old of my generation to cook her own meals, stay at home all day by herself, and read volume upon volume of ee cummings (this is, incidentally, also where I place blame for my abhorrence of capital letters). This is not faulty parenting - my mother was simply too occupied with cashing in on that last morsel of life before it vanished. I suppose I�m rambling a bit, and for that I apologize. I�m trying to explain why we seem so lost and disinterested. It was never asked, never expected, I daresay never even hoped that we might be great. We settle for mediocre because society has never bothered to encourage us further than that. That is what is expected, and so we deliver, and in that pitiful way we view ourselves as having succeeded. I hate it. I hate everything about the people included in my generation. I recognized early on the hole I was in, and have been trying ever since to get the hell out. But it’s not easy. People look at me funny when I announce grandiose plans, when I come through with a difficult idea and make it work. I�m freakish in that respect; I stand out because I am the only one around here who has recessed into her brain far enough to find her intelligence and attempted to climb out, thoughts still intact. It�s immensely difficult to shake off the burden of stupidity and laziness that every member of my generation has been forced to carry. So most of us don’t. They don’t even try. So now that we are all approaching our second decade of meaningless existence, society has stumbled upon what we have known all along - there is a problem with today’s youth. They are working to alleviate this problem. More money into education, campaign for our success, builds up their confidence and tells them they can be stars. Well, for me and mine, it’s too damned late. The next generation, they’ll catch it. But meanwhile we are still lost in the middle, between two factions of people destined for greatness. We are tossed aside and left for dead, expected to be nothing but simply there. “It�s the end of the world”, my friend Stella once announced. “And it’s not my fault.”

It will be the fault of my generation if we don’t do more than “just show up.”