The Parents Were Wrong. So Were We.

It is what it is.

It’s 2003. A sunny afternoon finds my third-grader self kicking away at stones on the way home from RJ Davies Primary School, mind fully locked on the present. Somewhere in the neighbourhood, a familiar tune is ringing off. “Dilemma” by Nelly and Kelly Rowland. Song is over a year old, but who cares? The internet was not as ubiquitous then, so we rarely received Western entertainment fresh off the grill. I find myself singing along, totally swept up in the feeling of affection I knew next to nothing about. That’s what great art does- it allows you to live vicariously through the artists. A minute later, I’m home and Momma’s just finished whipping up lunch. And I can’t wait to dig in and tell her about my day.

Enter the time traveller from 2023.

There’s so much expression on this guy’s face, no artist born of a woman could ever successfully portray it on a canvas. I cannot describe it, for the right words simply do not exist. But even more vivid are the portraits in his words. Prophetic and chilling. Some epic and scary shit. Another global recession. Michael Jackson dying. Smartphones. Facebook. YouTube. Osama Bin Laden found and popped. A random dude from Canada makes simping cool. The Mayans fucked up their doomsday prediction. The rise of Netflix. IG models. Mugabe is removed from power and lives on for a couple more years. TikTok. A global p(l)andemic. OnlyFans. Drake is still dropping hits. Andrew Tate is a whole Messiah to myriads of dudes. The internet has brought us all together just to show how stupidly diverse and diversely stupid we are. And yeah, Russia is shelling the heck out of Ukraine, and Ukraine is fighting back. Also, two old men named Trump and Biden have happened to the US. In that order.

That future sounded very believable, right? Um…no. Now, if that part had really happened, I think I’d have freaked out big time and my brain would have turned into mush. Good thing time travel is only real in novels and movies. But I’ll tell you this- 2023 ended up happening after all. The last of the millennials, the 90s kids, aren’t kids anymore. I’d know. Very mild back pain is a thing in my life now (that could be down to my lifestyle choices, but this is my blog and I plead the Fifth). And I’m on the fence about Gen Z. Not that my opinion matters…those kids can make content out of anything, including my saltiness. And now that my generation has fully formed brains and a generous share of negative experiences, getting along with parents is akin to blindly walking on eggshells in a minefield while solving a Rubik’s Cube. Tricky as it gets.

But how did we get here?

Battle Ground

More often than not, the reason why we can’t seem to agree with our parents on anything as we grow older is put down to the phrase “generational divide”. And because actually thinking about stuff isn’t cool anymore (was it ever cool, though?), we’re okay with leaving it at that. But as we’re staring at the messy current settings while dreading the uncertain future, I’d say we could do worse than think about this for a hot minute.

At some point you get the feeling that all your parents ever did was prepare you for a world that no longer exists. Study hard, get that degree, and get a good job…where? How, Sway? Then you also figure out that college is just another place where you learn to be a career groupie. Sorry, I meant to say networking expert. You learn to wear a shit-eating grin at functions and socialize with people based on how much you can get out of them in both the short and long term. That’s not exactly taught at dinner tables on the eve of your day of departure for the big bad world.

The parents said you ought to keep your head down and work hard, but you quickly realize that isn’t close to enough. In fact, one might even argue being brilliant doesn’t really count for shit without “people skills”. I mean, they probably encouraged you to make friends. But what you witness is far from organic; the formation of strategic alliances. You don’t discover that your friend is well-connected; you get them into your circle because they are well-connected.

At some point, adulting becomes a reality. Though the influence (and bankroll, if you’re lucky) of the parents lingers on, you’re ultimately responsible for your decisions. The wins and losses. What starts off as a mere difference of opinions between you and your parents ends up being a hotly contested battle over whose idea and perspective will inform the future. The present, rather.

But as history has shown us from time to time, a stalemate is almost inevitable.

Stalemate

We’re all in this and nobody won, really. At least, as far as the everyman is concerned. In fact, the world gets shittier by the second.

We share mutual frustration at the lack of simple solutions in a world that takes more than it gives.

We started off drinking so we can socialize, but now we socialize so we can drink. Like, where’s the fun in talking to someone you won’t get a drink with if sipping is what you do every other day?

We went from a very absorbing battle of the sexes which was based on wits to one based on which gender has a more legitimate claim to victimhood. Pathetic shit, if you ask me. Podcasts are weird, more of a cry for help in HD. That goes for both sides of the conflict.

We even made a mess of something as casual as internet dating. Like, how do people traumatize each other via social media apps? Are our offline lives that vapid and soul-sucking?

We are so inundated with extreme emotions that a serene day is almost depressing. Now, because we excel in projection, it has to be the next person’s fault. But we live off of drama.

We wrestle with the fact that most of our parents settled down at a relatively younger age. But what is “settling down”, really?

We tell ourselves meeting parental expectations doesn’t matter anymore, even as we feel like shit for perceived failure. Parents feel the same about their parenting even after telling themselves they’ve earned the right to leave their children at the mercy of the big bad world.

We text and call home less and less, and there is always a justification. Yeah, I’m also talking to myself here. And the coldness is felt on the other side. Come to think of it, it’s cold on both ends.

Truce?

Look, this is not some exhaustive article that promises paradise right at the end. But we’d do well to take in what’s at hand for a minute.

Maybe this is not the time to come up with a peace agreement that makes everyone grin like Drake at the sight of a brassiere onstage. Nor is it the time to get scholarly about life, because the answer to 1+1 seldom helps you figure out why you’re a pretty sad human being with daddy issues. I think that part of why it’s all like this may be down to love. LOVE. We do care about each other, though it seldom gets expressed in a healthy way. The generational divide cannot do away with the fact.

That’s why you find yourself wondering why you can’t get your parents and vice versa. Cause love seeks understanding. But does the fact that your dad could not foretell the existence of Bitcoin make him any less lovable? Besides, not every prophet ends up being a good parent.

The humbling truth is that we were all wrong about the future, and the noblest thing would be to own up to that. Bear in mind that in a few years it’ll be our turn to raise kids and I can tell you this- these sentiments will still apply. And you know who’ll be the sweetest humans at the time? You guessed it. The world they prepared us for may not exist, but they stuck around. That’s gotta mean something.

The idea is to become less stupid with each passing day. But are we all willing to admit that we are still stupid today?