The year is 2016; religious radicals seed bigotry and hatred both abroad and at home. Every other day it seems either a police officer murdered someone or has been murdered. Forty-two percent of Americans deny evolution, and all former 17 presidential candidates of a major political party were in favor of dismantling the Department of Education altogether -- the department that would keep such theories out of public school textbooks. All the while, the last two presidential candidates -- it was a good fight, Senator Sanders, I still support you -- are locked in a contest of who the American public hates less: Historically speaking, Trump and Hillary are the most hated candidates in American history.
However, regardless as to whether you are pro-choice or pro-gun -- because the two have some eerie similarities -- the responsibility of choosing the “outsider” or the “establishment” candidate does not fall on the shoulders of the average American voters: In reality, our leader is elected by the electoral college, a system too complex to go into in detail. There is a 24-hour news cycle that tells us whatever we want to hear to keep us proud or scared, racism is on the rise, while acceptance of difference is in decline, not everyone is informed before they make an opinion and the American people are being taken for a ride by big banks creating an income gap even Evel Knievel would not jump. That's obviously to say nothing of the fact that Medicare can cost you the arm and leg that you needed fixing in the first place, and a private university can cost up to $70,000 a year, without a price cap in sight.
So, in this year, my generation -- the class of 2020 and the recently graduated class of 2016 --are about to enter “the real world.” This means most of us are also entering a world of debt, terror and hardship. It is no wonder my generation is largely growing up cynical; there is not a lot of positivity and optimism floating around.
That being said, in this very same year, something happened to momentarily burst the cynical bubble we were in. I am talking about the release of Pokémon GO, the AR game that brought back to life the original set of Pokémon as well as Nintendo’s Stock Price. Using a GPS, you can track and capture Pokémon around your neighborhood and train them for battle, all through your phone. And that is having a lot of real adults -- mainly our parents -- probably look at this once deceased phase coming back to life in horror.
They thought we outgrew our dreams of becoming Pokémon masters. An entire generation of kids about to become adults suddenly got to relive their childhoods for a summer before heading off to college, or a job or our impending election. Across the globe it is cited that Pokémon GO helps with anxiety and depression by having people go outside to play, while simultaneously inspiring groups to meet up and people to make new friends -- all to catch Pokémon. And from a personal view, it brings people together. People are talking about what Pokémon they have, not about their political leanings; they go on walks and connect with other players instead of creating arbitrary reasons not to.
Pokémon GO made an entire generation forget what divides us, and made us focus on just enjoying an odd hunt with friends, to be the “best there ever was.” I tried the game, and while I cannot say whether it will stay on my phone or I will delete it in a few weeks when the hype has died down, I can say that between me and my friends who played it when we were younger, it was an honestly fun break from the real world and it felt great to get back that childish wonder, if only for a summer.
