I’m 19 and just kind of chilling in this world. I’m a part of the younger generation that the world loves to hate. Am I millennial or some new generation that no one has ever bothered to name, who knows. According to the Baby Boomers, Gen X, and Gen Y I’m lazy, narcissistic, entitled, addicted to social media, and above all a whinny cry baby. I’m rude and arrogant. I’m the death of America. I’m disrespectful to my elders and have no care for traditions. I live my life behind a screen and have no clue how to talk outside the realm of the internet. I’m an overmedicated walking zombie because of all my fake illnesses.
Am I though? Am I everything you think? Are we really so easily defined by your skin deep judgments?
Stop and look around. We grew up with technology booming at our finger tips. We grew up with terrorism flying across the bottom of a TV screen every morning. We became numb to mass shootings. We heard bombings become an average monthly occurrence. We saw police brutality forced down our throats. We heard religious sermons tear us apart and bring upon the same death and hate they preach against. We saw the street lights go dim and the bright fire of newer drugs and crime fill the dark sidewalks.
Our phone screens light up with the words that cut deeper than a knife. Our newsfeeds are filled with over edited pictures to keep us in a continuous competition. Our classrooms are filled with standardized tests to see if we learned what the State believes is important. Our report cards are filled with blood, sweat, and tears because the only thing acceptable these days is a perfect grade.
Our headphones are filled with the subtle sounds of nothingness because we need to hear simple beats to keep us sane. Our pillows are filled with the dreams of not failing. Our walls are painted with the screams of anxiety. Our mirrors send back lifeless images of depression. Our skin is burnt with red tint of anger because we are told we aren’t going to amount to anything.
Our shoes run across the bones of our peers because we are told we are the only ones that matter. Our ears are filled with constant subliminal messages that if we don’t’ agree we are wrong. Our vocal cords are taped shut because how dare we have an opinion on how are country should be run.
We are constantly beaten down by you. The editors call us lazy because we can’t do everything. The anchors call us narcissistic because we strive for the most likes on a seemingly meaningless picture. The elders call us entitled because we want more. The pastors call us a dead generation because we don’t blindly believe what we are told. You try to destroy us. You try to make us what you want, but we are never going to be yours.
We are people. We are depressed. We are anxious. We are abused. We are neglected. We are heart broken. We are tired. We are sick. We are worn down. Yet, we are still here with our hearts beating faster and stronger than ever before.
We are thirsty for change. We line the steps of congress demanding for equal rights. We brought the age where people can love who they chose. We scream at the top of our lungs because we know banning rights for any person brings us farther in time. We are reading between the lines of our censored textbooks and seeing the red stained history you tried to hide. We hear the cries of our brothers and sisters across the world.
We use our passports not for lavish trips to drink Champagne in front of the Eiffel Tower, but to drink the water from the wells we built in the desert. We fight back when our beliefs are stomped out. We graffiti our campus sidewalks with colorful chalked words of politicians we believe in. We challenge our professors because they’re beliefs aren’t always right. We stand up for our sister wearing a hijab because her throat has been choked by your vicious hands.
We fight back for our brother because his lung is bleeding out from the wound your bullets left. We run to the scene first not because our hearts are empty, but because there is no time for us to grieve. We demand things not because we are entitled but because we know that every person deserves a life worth living. We want to be the best because we don’t need to stand behind and let you dictate how our lives should be. We stop and breathe because our lungs are out of breath. You say you’ve been there, but have you?
Did you see the Trade Center fall from a TV rolled into your classroom? Did you see the levees burst from a living room filled with the tears of your elders and see the life draw from their face because they lost hope? Did you hear your classmate is gone because they couldn’t fight depression anymore over and over again every year?
Did you watch the halls of a school or seats of a theater become stained with red when stepping off a school bus? Did your phone screen alert you that Paris was under attack when you were walking home from a midterm? Did your world loose rainbows and instead become shaded from the ash of Belgium? Did you grow up in a world where every generation above you became frozen regularly because the world was too much for them?
We are what we are because you raised us this way. Your world made us. Your world is the reason we want change because we won’t let our younger brothers and sister be beaten by the same words you use against us.
