20 years old. The big two-zero. Two decades. That’s how old I am. I celebrated my 20th birthday recently, and, I must say, for a person who doesn’t usually feel the weight of their age, I feel quite old. I’m looking at the way I handle myself, and I’m getting up there. But with all that being said, 20 isn’t that old. In reality, I feel much older than I actually am. It’s an interesting personal dilemma. Here’s how I’m dealing with it (I’m not, but can we pretend I am? My mom will read this)…
One of the things that makes me feel old is my connection to my generation and the relationships we have with other generations. I think it’s just impossible to ignore that we aren’t kids anymore. There are certain events that everyone remembers where they were when they happened. I remember my grandparents telling me about them finding about the assasination of JFK, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and the Moon Landing. For my parents, it was the fall of the Berlin Wall, 9/11, and Y2K. It’s become clear to me recently what events our generation will remember like that.
The most obvious one was when the COVID 19 lockdown started. I remember them pulling us all into my middle school auditorium, and we celebrated an early spring break. Then I remember my mom picking me up from school, and making me go grocery shopping with her to make sure we were stocked up on groceries. I don’t think it was two weeks before they moved the rest of the school year online. Another one my generation shares is January 6th. I was getting ready for a day of online learning, and my mom came in and told me the news. I suspect, although it’s too early to tell, that the ICE Raids will be remembered similarly. Other non-political examples could be hearing Taylor Swift for the first time, or seeing the finale to Stranger Things, like previous generations had The Beatles, or the finale to The Sopranos. I say all this to prove the point: our generation has its defining moments already. We’ll get more, but there’s already plenty.
Equally important to this is who we can relate and connect with. Naturally, my closest friends are people in my generation, but what’s changed about me is my ability to connect with people outside of my generation. For example, back home I’m neighbors with a family of four. My best guess off the top of my head is that the parents are in their early 40s, the oldest kid is an underclassman in high school, and the youngest kid is a middle schooler. Even though I’m much closer to the kids in age, I relate to their parents a lot more.
When I talk to any of them, it’s the same conversation. “How’s school?” “How’s work?” What’ve you been up to?” The topics are the same, when I’m talking to the adults, there’s a certain mature quality that changes the conversation. It makes it seem as if we somehow know what we’re doing, but I suspect we’re all just good at faking it. When I’m talking to the kids, I’m trying to understand a different world. They’re telling the same stories as the adults, but the language isn’t as refined. It’s clear they haven’t perfected the art of “faking it until making it.” There’s nothing wrong with that, in fact, there’s something nice about how kids wear life on their face, while grown-ups have to hide the reality somewhere else. Perhaps I can make it easiest in this: I’m an adult because I act it, and perhaps that’s the oldest thing about me: I fake it ‘til I make it with the best of ‘em.
While all of this is true, it doesn’t deal with the fact that I’ve only lived for 20 years. Here are some facts that serve as pleasant reminders, and not so pleasant reminders, that I’m still young: I’ve only voted in one presidential election, I was a high school student two years ago, and, in my entire life, I’ve only lived in Pennsylvania. The first president I can remember was Barack Obama, the first song I remember losing my mind over with my friends was “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift, and a screening of The Lego Movie was one of the first birthday parties I remember going to. I’m always using some form of technology, I can’t tell you the last time I used a landline, and my handwriting is awful.
The latest life expectancy data from the CDC suggests an American born in 2024 should live to be about 79. The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that the average American male will hold an average of almost 13 jobs between the ages of 18-58. I’ve held two official jobs. I’ve got a long way to go before I can say I’ve been around the block. These memories and statistics serve as a healthy reminder: for better or worse, I’m not as old as I feel.
As far as I’m concerned, two things can be true. The first is that I am old in the sense that I am an adult, and it is now common for me to be treated and act like one. The second is that I’m young, and there is far more to experience in life than what I have now. There’s a line in the live version of “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel: “I am older than I once was, and younger than I’ll be, but that’s not unusual.” This summarizes how I feel well, but the verse continues to another interesting point: “No it isn’t strange, after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same.” Throughout all this change, all this aging, and all this talk of old and young, what’s important is that I’m still true to myself.
Photo credited to Jennifer Parry Bird.
