I apologize. According to the internet, my generation is to blame for quite a lot, and thus I apologize on behalf of all millennials for what we destroy. Those of us born between the early 1980s and, at the latest, the very early 2000s, must be endowed with some special power for causing change that other generations are not too keen of. We cannot be blamed, however, for destroying the resale market.

This break, to subsidize my summer job money, I purged my shelves and stumbled upon my once-prized CD collection. The case was a little dusty, but the CDs were still in perfect condition and organized in alphabetical order, the lyric books stored neatly in the side pocket. Once upon a time, I saved my money to purchase each of those CDs at musicals and bookstores. Now, I am not sure I could find anywhere to play them besides our old car. Earning my few dollars at Half Price Books was the biggest service they could do for me. They are obsolete. As I piled the stack on the “sell” desk, I suddenly empathized.

I have jokingly been called “ancient” and even given myself the moniker, but I am beginning to realize that in some ways, the truth is not too far off. For instance, I am no longer a member of the youngest generation. I remember rewinding my VHS tapes and recording TV shows onto them. Blockbuster was the first place that I was allowed to walk without an adult, trekking the three blocks with one of my friends at my side and rinsing fallen mulberries in Sprite to keep us energized for the “long” walk home. We would peruse the shelves and catch glimpses of movies we were too young to watch on the large monitors dangling from the ceiling. Of course, there were nights where I would dial our corded phone and call the store, only to find that the movie that I wanted was out of stock.

I was born in a different millennium, and I remember a century that no current high school student has seen. I had a bedazzled Razr flip phone, a tiny little iPod, and my necessary DVD player. My recent clothing donations have included skinny scarves and newsboy caps, and I only recently found out (through a Buzzfeed article) that vests are apparently out of style. I have seen styles come and go and come back again, but that is not the most disastrous thing that I have witnessed.

School was let out early on September 11, 2001. My old keychain featuring the Twin Towers became much more than a souvenir. Walking the street of New Orleans with my mother sent me back to watching reports of people waving to helicopters on the rooftops as the waters rose and the name Katrina changed meaning forever. My friends hosted the young man who translated for her father when he helped treat the survivors of the earthquake in Haiti.

Beyond living through worldwide catastrophes and natural disasters, I have seen the Supreme Court rule in favor of marriage equality and the phrase “Don’t ask, don’t tell” become a thing of the past. Social icons have risen and fallen, new leaders have been elected, and the economy has risen and dipped. Slang has changed so much that I am speechless when my mother asks me what “the kids are saying these days.”

I do know what my generation is saying, though. We are saying that we have seen the world change and that we will be the next ones responsible for changing it. We are saying that we realize that the world we live in is broken, but it is not busted beyond repair. We are saying that it is our turn to speak for the voiceless, to see the invisible, and to shed a warming light on those forced into the shadows. Campuses are brimming with social justice activists; nonprofit organizations are flourishing all over the world. We may not be able to afford houses, but we can spare empathy and passion.

On my eighteenth birthday, I overheard a group of ten-year-old children who were utterly mystified by a pay phone. One proudly taught his baffled friends about this communication device “from the 1800s.” They picked up the receiver and yelled “Hello? Can you hear me? No, because you’re dead!” Using payphones in the past, we are not dead. We are very much alive, poised to make life better for everyone. Being “ancient” also means that we have seen the world change and lived through a great deal.

I am a part of an older generation, but I am also a part of one about to take on the world. We are inclusive. We are passionate. We are resourceful and enterprising and creative and a balance of realistic and idealistic. I have seen the world change, and now I get to be a part of the generation that will change it. And for that I am not the least bit sorry.