If it’s true that we photograph the things that we are afraid to lose, then it’s saddening to think that maybe this generation, the so-called selfie generation, aren’t really just a bunch of narcissitic fools and attention seeking people, but rather a bunch of individuals afraid to lose themselves. Isn’t it disheartening? That in this age of technology and fast communication gateways, there are more and more individuals that capture their own photos to preserve and have memories of who they are.
Teenagers are not lazy.
Teenagers. Are. Not. Lazy.
Teenagers wake up before the sun every day, often much earlier than their parents do for work. They go through 6 ½ hours of school every day, often taking difficult and rigorous classes in order to qualify for college scholarships. While doing this, they must simultaneously balance the social and emotional pressures of high school- trying desperately to figure out who they are and what they stand for in a world where they are judged so harshly.
After classes and extracurricular activities, which sometimes run late into the night, they go home and do homework. This can take hours, and be both physically and mentally draining, but they do it anyway because they have been taught grades are more important than self care.
After finishing, they go to sleep and do it all over again the next day.
So I beg of you, stop with the notion that teenagers are lazy. Stop stereotyping the group of people - yes, people - who were thrust into this system of your design. Being a teenager is hard, a lot harder than it was thirty years ago.
We wake up before the sun every day for two reasons: because it was forced upon us, and because it is the only foreseeable path towards a future worth having.
an open letter to the forty-somethings I hear this from constantly // c.r.h.
I am not a millenial,
I am Generation Z
I am a plural
I am an iGen
I am from the Homeland Generation
We have a name,
We haven’t made a dent yet
We have had our “childhood factors”
But we only have predictions
We have no stereotypes
We don’t have common traits quite yet
We haven’t lived in a time without what we call modern technology.
The public has had internet for only 26 years.
And I’m 14
I don’t know what it’s like to live without computers,
Or smart phones
I’m growing up in a time with same sex marriage
I am a leader of tomorrow
But I’m growing up today
I have internet access
I can hear what you say
We’ll right your wrongs
And the generation after me
Will right ours
We just mindlessly follow the rules until we grow up enough to understand that they are wrong.
For some it might be too late, others might never really grow up, but we, the people of this generation will kick society to its knees and bend it to our will.
we’re faceless martyrs of this generation, aren’t we?
us, with our bruised wrists and these damned scarred minds.
and we’re still trying, aren’t we?
one hand paddling to stay afloat, the other around our necks, clasped too tight
and we’re still hoping to come out of this alive, aren’t we?
even when the darkness whispers otherwise.
and we won’t be remembered in books of History, would we?
no, not us. not the fools who became their own enemies.
but we don’t really care, do we?
not when wars rage in our heads and we see everything in bloodshed
not when the world is too big a place and we’re too busy trying to save ourselves
and not when we’ve seen the universes beheld in One to bother ourselves with everybody else.
we’re survivors // nameless heroes of our own stories
Another entry for the Famous Ladies, Star Trek Editionseries!
Guinan, portrayed by Whoopi Goldberg, is a mysterious bartender who runs Ten Forward, the lounge aboard the USS Enterprise-D. Guinan is an El-Aurian, a long-lived race of “listeners” who were scattered by the Borg. Q, however, once suggested that there was far more to her than could be imagined. Guinan and Picard shared a long-time relationship, which, according to Guinan, went “beyond friendship and beyond family.” She often advised Picard and the senior staff in times of dilemma.
Whoopi Goldberg is an American actress, comedian, author, and television host. She has been nominated for 13 Emmy Awards for her work in television and is one of the few entertainers who have won an Emmy Award, a Grammy Award, an Oscar, and a Tony Award. She was the second black woman in the history of the Academy Awards to win an acting Oscar. Goldberg got the role of Guinan after she expressed interest to the producers, being a fan of Star Trek: The Original Series – mostly due to Nichelle Nichols, one of the first black women to be regularly featured in an American television series. Goldberg hoped to play the new ship’s doctor after Gates McFadden was fired, but the producers did not see her as suitable for the role and instead rewrote the role of Enterprise’s bartender for her.
Today I witnessed the death of Childhood. Not the robbing of innocence preformed by a vile creature. Nor the explosion of early knowledge destroying the fragile moment in time. Or even the natural state at which all Childhood must end. It was an unnatural demise that I’ve come to realise is slowly becoming the norm.
Two instances occurred in which I have made the conclusion that my generation were the last to experience Childhood.
The first was a veiled disguise of a young boy peddling his bike down the pavement beside my car. A break in the law we allow children because they are still learning, still need the protection of a guideline to follow. Another even younger boy was walking beside him and as they got closer I expected to hear the fountain of laughter that can only pour from the youth. My ears were not washed in this sound instead they caught words out of place in a mouth so young.
“He gave me the complete collection of John Williams so I, of course, shall be listening to that later.”
My immediate reaction was to laugh at a structure of words people my own age are unlikely to use. Yet as the day progressed I found myself falling into a despair that went beyond the simple overhearing of words. The words were a gateway that opened up to the realisation that Childhood is no longer a stage in life. Infants are being brought into a world where they must learn to grow up before they can walk. We are leaving a world behind us that no child can survive in and for that reason Children are no longer being born into it.
The second incident occurred a few days after the first. On the television a competition was being held for those under the age of twelve to build the best creation they could out of Lego. Lego! The trademark of Childhood. The one toy without fail that has been shared through all Childhoods and can revert an adult back to their own in an instant. Again I witnessed the loss of Childhood as a collective. Not one child was smiling. Not one child was laughing. They were frowning and fighting. Not because they wanted the best pieces but because ‘the proportions are off’ or ‘this is not my vision!’
Children of today know more now than I ever did. More than I would have ever wanted to. They are being groomed to become our leaders in both business and country. I don’t deny they will eventually have to join the world we have ruined but let them live in that fantasy of a perfect world a little longer. I wish I could have. Perhaps I am just too old. Maybe this is the Childhood of the future but in that case we should no longer refer to it as such.
These two incidences were centre points that drew facts together: Childhood is a dying generation. I wait now for the third and final instance that will put the final nail in the coffin. I pray it never comes.
I am terrified of failing.
At the same time I’ve survived it before.
I am terrified of failing.
I am terrified of disappointing myself.
I am terrified of disappointing my parents, even though they tell me they’ll always be proud.
I am terrified to fail in this country I’ve called home, and made their voyage in this foreign land seem for nothing.
I am afraid of being called out by the calluses on my father’s hands.
And I am afraid that if I fall to my knees, my mother’s unfailing ones will mock me.
I am afraid that I’ll fall between the cracks of my brown heritage and pseudo white privilege.
I am afraid of falling from the pedestal my parents have honored me with.
I try to tell myself that I am worth the sacrifice.
Worth their sleepless nights and worried strain.
A beacon of pride and hope, in a neighborhood too often overlooked.
A beacon of anguished esperanza in a city of suburban white success.
I know regardless of what happens.
My parents have and always will love me.
My parents- both mountain and humility.
Success and failure.
Both hurricane, and gentle rain.
Have loved me.
Have been proud of me.
When I’ve been none of these things.
I know this.
But at the end of the day.
I want this legacy to be worth something.
“it took me long enough to realise that summary of human behaviour is one of the most ridiculous things to attempt to do. we are larger. we contain multitudes, goddamn it. don’t you dare try to fit me into a sentence.” - adam tie. (inspired by kill your darlings)
Someone once asked me what it was like losing someone you love. All I could tell that naive, little girl was that, “It will hurt a bit, but you’ll grow strong and forget.” I wish I was brutally honest with her because no one else had the heart to. I wish I had warned her that losing him will feel like one ignoramus storm of pain and emotions. That when he goes it will be like forgetting how to breathe, and you’ll have to learn how to all over again. You will have to forget the way he touched your skin and the way he kissed you lips. You will have to forget it all, even if it kills you to. Remember to trust people when they say you need to get out, because when you go into that party and he see’s your face while he’s dancing with another girl. You will want him to see your face glowing, and smiling. He may have taking your heart but don’t you dare let him take your smile. Then there will come a time where you’ll eventually become your own storm and it won’t be pain anymore. It will be power and glory, and you won’t flinch when you hear his name. You will only feel a sweet, distant memory, one that will have you wondering, “Why did I waste so much time.”
A letter to my dearest, oh so beautiful cousin. Don’t let these boys take everything from you. Leave some for you and you only.- I’ll read you this when the time is right. // 7:02 pm