What's the Matter with Kids Today?

Do you remember that song from the musical Bye Bye, Birdie--KIDS?

"Why can't they be like we were, perfect in every way?
What's the matter with kids today?"

It's an amusing song. And it expresses the frustration and confusion that older generations feel about the younger generation.

A great deal of the misunderstanding results because of the tribal markings* each generation uses. 

When I first returned to the United States, having been in southern Africa where my parents were missionaries, the ways in which my fellow classmates dressed was very different from what I had just experienced. I had attended boarding school, a necessity when the mission station where we were was a day trip from the nearest school for me. Boarding schools required students to wear uniforms. So everyone clearly belonged to the same "tribe" by virtue of those uniforms. And it was easy to tell when we saw other school uniforms that other "tribes" were close by.

High school in the United States did not require students to wear uniforms. And yet they did. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, I encountered girls who wore blouses with Peter Pan collars, wide skirts decorated with poodles, and crinoline slips. And I so envied that new style uniform. I never did get a poodle skirt**. Of course, now I have to laugh at

myself.

Once the 1960s moved into full swing, I was able to adopt the uniform. I had long hair, and wore long "hippie" style dresses. My husband, who I married in 1967, had shoulder length hair and a mustache. We looked like we belonged in the '60s. And, of course, there were people who shook their heads and said "Kids!"

Fast forward a couple of decades. When our daughter was a young girl, she began to bug me to let her get her ears pierced. All or almost all of her friends had their ears pierced. I resisted. After all, at the time, our daughter was pre-teen. My answer was--yes, you can get your ears pierced when I get mine pierced. NOT FAIR--of course, as I had never had mine pierced.  But I now understand her request was part of wanting to belong to the tribe.

There are many ways today to young people mark themselves as belonging to the tribe. When I taught at the local community college, at the end of my working career, I was amazed at how many students had tattoos. And then I began to note how many students had body piercings. And I am talking about more than pierced ears.  Occasionally, I would note that a student was "playing" with her tongue ball.  OK--a tribal marking, but not one I could appreciate.

Thus it ever was--adults who had their own tribal markings shake their heads and ask--"Kids, what's the matter with kids today?"
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* As I was preparing to write this, I searched my blog to see what I might have said on this subject before. (I confess, I do find myself repeating some ideas.)  Herewith is an earlier entry on the topic--written about my teaching time.

** Photo of the poodle skirt comes from a website where you can get your own pattern to make one.

What's the Matter with Kids Today?

Do you remember that song from the musical Bye Bye, Birdie--KIDS?

"Why can't they be like we were, perfect in every way?
What's the matter with kids today?"

It's an amusing song. And it expresses the frustration and confusion that older generations feel about the younger generation.

A great deal of the misunderstanding results because of the tribal markings* each generation uses. 

When I first returned to the United States, having been in southern Africa where my parents were missionaries, the ways in which my fellow classmates dressed was very different from what I had just experienced. I had attended boarding school, a necessity when the mission station where we were was a day trip from the nearest school for me. Boarding schools required students to wear uniforms. So everyone clearly belonged to the same "tribe" by virtue of those uniforms. And it was easy to tell when we saw other school uniforms that other "tribes" were close by.

High school in the United States did not require students to wear uniforms. And yet they did. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, I encountered girls who wore blouses with Peter Pan collars, wide skirts decorated with poodles, and crinoline slips. And I so envied that new style uniform. I never did get a poodle skirt**. Of course, now I have to laugh at

myself.

Once the 1960s moved into full swing, I was able to adopt the uniform. I had long hair, and wore long "hippie" style dresses. My husband, who I married in 1967, had shoulder length hair and a mustache. We looked like we belonged in the '60s. And, of course, there were people who shook their heads and said "Kids!"

Fast forward a couple of decades. When our daughter was a young girl, she began to bug me to let her get her ears pierced. All or almost all of her friends had their ears pierced. I resisted. After all, at the time, our daughter was pre-teen. My answer was--yes, you can get your ears pierced when I get mine pierced. NOT FAIR--of course, as I had never had mine pierced.  But I now understand her request was part of wanting to belong to the tribe.

There are many ways today to young people mark themselves as belonging to the tribe. When I taught at the local community college, at the end of my working career, I was amazed at how many students had tattoos. And then I began to note how many students had body piercings. And I am talking about more than pierced ears.  Occasionally, I would note that a student was "playing" with her tongue ball.  OK--a tribal marking, but not one I could appreciate.

Thus it ever was--adults who had their own tribal markings shake their heads and ask--"Kids, what's the matter with kids today?"
-----------------


* As I was preparing to write this, I searched my blog to see what I might have said on this subject before. (I confess, I do find myself repeating some ideas.)  Herewith is an earlier entry on the topic--written about my teaching time.

** Photo of the poodle skirt comes from a website where you can get your own pattern to make one.

Generations Redux

Though the previous post did not generate as many comments as some of my posts have, we have a thoughtful conversation going on.

Climenheise commented: "As some of your post-ers have noted, there are still young people who defy this image. They go to New Orleans and help out. They spend years in the Middle East living in a conflict situation for the sake of conscience. But as a society we have spent generations creating what you describe in your classroom. I would be interested in your own further analysis of what's going on."

For the uninitiated, Climenheise is the nom-de-plume of my brother. He and I have had pieces of this conversation on generations before. He, too, is a professor--in fact, he teaches students at an advanced level in a seminary in Manitoba.

In a prior post, some time back, I wrote about making a reference (to Wayne Newton) in class and getting blank stares from my students. Always a humbling experience--that. It makes one feel. . .old. After writing that post, my brother sent me a link for the Beloit College Mindset list. For eleven years, Beloit College has been assembling a list of things the new class entering college would have as a common frame of reference. You can go here to read more about this list, and even see prior years.

This list helps me know what I can expect in terms of student reactions to events or people I may refer to in class discussion. Here's what Beloit observes about the current freshmen class--the class of 2012:

The class of 2012 has grown up in an era where computers and rapid communication are the norm, and colleges no longer trumpet the fact that residence halls are “wired” and equipped with the latest hardware. These students will hardly recognize the availability of telephones in their rooms since they have seldom utilized landlines during their adolescence. They will continue to live on their cell phones and communicate via texting. Roommates, few of whom have ever shared a bedroom, have already checked out each other on Facebook where they have shared their most personal thoughts with the whole world.

It is a multicultural, politically correct and “green” generation that has hardly noticed the threats to their privacy and has never feared the Russians and the Warsaw Pact.

Maybe that description helps to form an answer my "what generation is this" question.

I also recall reading that a generation is shaped by the events when people were coming of age--also a topic of a previous post for me. So, take the birth years, then add about 20 years and examine the events of that time span. Those are the events that will shape that generation.

That doesn't really give me an answer to "what generation is this" but it's a beginning. I agree--the selfishness that the response my students gave in class is NOT a universal trait of this generation. For example, students use their spring break weeks to work in place like the Gulf Coast striken with multiple hurricanes.

Well, for now, I will leave the rumination of generational identity aside. You all can keep answering, and giving me suggestions. Every little bit helps.

What Generation is this?

I was reading Newsweek last evening, and came upon a most disturbing article: Generation Divas it was called. The gist of the article is that we are so external beauty obsessed that a whole generation of young girls (especially) is being groomed to the hilt. The sub-title of the article says it all: how obsession with beauty is changing our kids. The article refers to a show I had never heard of—“Toddlers and Tiaras” on TLC. It is called “a reality show.” Some reality.

This article got me to thinking—what generation is this?

In my husband’s work capacity, he has participated in discussions on how to attract and retain members. One of the approaches his work place has used is to consider what appeals to the various generations, and the characteristics that typify each generation. We all know the Boomer generation (of which I am sort of a member—I was born just a tad before the official beginning in 1946). This generation followed the Greatest Generation—enshrined in Tom Brokaw’s eponymous book.


Does this symbol register with you?


If these events and names strike a familiar note with you—Vietnam, Woodstock, assassinations of JFK, Malcolm X, Martin, and Bobby, sexual revolution and drugs—chances are you are part of the Boomer generation.

After the Boomers, we had Generation X—this grouping includes those born between the years 1964-1980. This generation saw the Berlin wall come down, and the beginnings of computers. (Note—the events might not occur during the inclusive years, which are birth years, but rather occur as the generation comes of age.)

In keeping with the alphabetical appellation, Gen X was followed by Gen Y–birth years of 1981 to 1995. Tracking these cycles is the work of sociologists and observers of popular culture. Here’s a piece on the 20th and 21st century cycles.

So, why my rather lengthy journey into the characteristics of generations? Because those who study these generational cycles tend to assign behavioral attributes to the people born during the bracket years. So, I am wondering—what generation is this one? The given designation of Generation Z is not really helpful.

A discussion in class yesterday brought me up short—and did nothing to answer my wondering “what generation is this?” The final assignment that I have for students is for them to work in collaborative groups. They are to do research on a “third world” country and a problem that country has. Then, they are to propose a solution to that problem, focusing particularly on whether or not “first world” countries have an ethical obligation to help. To prime the students for this project, we had a discussion on several essays they were assigned to read. One of the discussion questions I posed was: do rich countries have an obligation to help poor countries. From my students I received an unequivocal NO. We have NO obligation to help any other country.

I confess—I shuddered. And I could not help but conjure up images of French peasants storming the Bastille, and marching on Versailles.




What generation is this, indeed?
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Image of illustration on Storming the Bastille--from Encyclopedia Britannica online

That is so '90s

One of the reasons I love teaching is that I am constantly learning from my students.

In English 101, I emphasize teaching rhetoric and formal writing. I also try to help the students increase their critical thinking skills. To accomplish this latter goal, I use a reader full of contemporary essays that the students are assigned to read. Then each day, I give them an in class exercise--a writing assignment to respond in a paragraph or so to a prompt I give.

A recent prompt was this question--Who has an iconic status today equal to Elvis’? Why?

I have always encouraged my students to answer in whatever way they will, as long as they back up their responses. This particular question has been the instigator of my learning. Several years ago a student responded to this prompt by saying--50 cents. Only, I heard --FITTY cent. So, I said--what? And eventually learned the name of a rapper. Let me be the first to say--I don't know rap; I don't like rap; I don't think rap is "music"--but the students like rap.

So I went home and looked up 50 cent and learned a bit about contemporary culture. I still don't like rap.

Using this same prompt, I have also learned about Lil Wayne and will.i.am--not sure that I am necessarily better off knowing about these people, but at least I am not totally hopelessly befuddled standing in front of my class.

So, it was with great humor--and an actual guffaw--that I read a student response to yet another prompt. In an essay unit on "Entertainment" (which is also where the Elvis question gets asked), I posed this writing prompt-- Do you think children watch too much television? How much did you watch as a child? Did you have rules limiting how much to watch?

Having collected the students' response, I was reading along in one young man's answers when I read this opening sentence--That is so '90s.

I re-read it, and then burst out laughing. His point was, I think, that someone of my generation would focus only on television and the excesses of watching it. His generation, however, has multiple electronic diversions. There is the internet, there are video games, there is X-box games or Wii.

In some ways, my question would be like someone asking me, when I was a student--do you think the radio is harming our young people.

Well, I got his point. Next year, the question will be rephrased--probably I will say--do children today spend too much time on the Internet or too much time playing electronic games?

Heaven forbid that I should be so '90s.

Silver Patterns and Hope Chests

One of the high school classes that likely has long since gone by the wayside is home economics. While I don’t recall much from the class, I clearly recall at least one project—which is eventually the subject of this blog.

Home ec, as we called it, was a girls only subject way back when. . .Girls went to home ec; boys went to shop. By the time our children went to high school, these classes were cross-fertilizing—guys in home ec, girls in shop. Frankly, I don’t know if these classes are still offered to the general high school population, particularly given how many so called non essential courses are being shed for schools to concentrate on core curriculum (thanks in part to No Child Left Behind demands).

I recall the home ec teacher’s name was Miss Mary Moser (a wonderfully alliterative name)—she especially liked me as I was not the usual student. When she asked us to bring in recipes, I brought in one for peanut gravy.

Growing up, as I had, in Northern and Southern Rhodesia, I had seen local people eating porridge. Made from mealies (corn) this porridge was thick, and people ate it by scooping out a handful from the communal pot, molding it into a ball which was then dipped in some savory gravy—for example peanut gravy.

But the project I most recall strikes me now as sweet and utterly useless. We had to design our ideal table settings for a formal meal. We poured over magazines to find photos of silver patterns, china, and crystal. The goal was to artfully match these three elements so that we would create a lovely dinner setting.

I don’t recall what patterns I chose. But I decided I wanted china with a blue design, something which when I got married came to fruition. I never got true silver—having lived happily with stainless steel ware!

I suppose these items were to go in our hope chests—another tradition long past. Now we have gift registries as the most practical way to gather gifts for couples intending to get married. But, in ye olde tyme days (an expression my daughter uses!), young women had hope chests. They collected linens and things for setting up future house-holds.

Ahh—the long gone days of old and the quaint habits we had! But, from home ec, I did learn something absolutely useful. I know how to sew and mend. And every time our children come to visit us, at least one will ask – Mom, can you mend this for me? Of course—happily.

The Class of 1962

This year, my high school class celebrated its 45th anniversary. We were the class of 1962. We were those babies born just before the boomer generation. Living through the 1960s we saw much. See The 1960s for details.

As someone who lived in “the boonies” I was always mildly envious of the town kids who had all grown up together. They had attended grade school together, played at each other’s homes, gone to the same slumber parties. They all knew each other and they were the in-crowd.

I had transferred into the school in 11th grade. With gusto, I threw myself into activities. I tried out for a sport I had played in Africa—field hockey—but did not make the team. So I redirected my energies—I ran for student council secretary—putting up creative posters. I came close but didn’t get elected.

Redirected again—by now I had joined chorus. So at least I was in something. I didn’t play an instrument you could play in the marching band, so that was out. Then came play tryouts—I made it, cast as the mother (!) in the junior class play.

By the end of my senior year, I had been elected to National Honor Society, was on yearbook staff, and in several special interest clubs. I wasn’t popular but at least I wasn’t a total reject.

Fast forward 45 years to our high school reunion. Over the years, I have kept in touch with no one from high school—until very recently. One of our class, moved by the news that one of our classmates had died several years, and no one in the class knew it, began gathering all our names. She sent out monthly breezy email newsletters. One by one, all of the 127 member of the class were found, except for the 9 who are “lost” and the 8 who have died.

Many people are nostalgic about their high school graduation class. I am no different. Oh I was consumed with curiosity. What would we be like after 45 years?

And now I know. Some people resembled magnificent architecture that has crumbled—you can still see the outlines of the building and know it was a magnificent structure, but it really is a ruin.

Ruined faces
Ruined voices
Ruined dreams
Ruined lives

But there were also people there who had succeeded in ways we would not have thought as high school seniors. We became business owners, we became teachers, we became attorneys, and we became doctors.

Yes, I saw the prom queen at the reunion—she is now a matronly woman. The head cheerleader who was always so pert and perky now looks care-worn. The star athletes, men and women, have aching bones, carry too much weight, have had knee replacements. The dream couple—well, they are still together. And the class bad boys? Well, they straightened up—one, who despised education in high school, had earned a master’s degree; another who claimed to be drunk all through high school now works as Santa Claus in his hometown.

My curiosity has been assuaged. Before the reunion, I was full of wonder—what had we all done, where had we gone. Now I am caught up on news of deaths, divorces, misfortunes. And also news of accomplishment, joys shared.

Will I return in 5 years for the next big reunion? Who knows?

It's A Generational Thing. . .

Yesterday, I wrote about the coming of age passage for my generation--the moment when we learned JFK had been assassinated. I was interested in the few comments that either resonated with the experience, recalling along with me the impact of that news, or the acknowledgement that this event was a bit of history, awareness but not really experience.

Of course, JFK's death was a generational thing--a moment in time when those of us who experienced it can recall exactly where we were, what we were doing. For my father's generation, an equivalent event would have been the attack on Pearl Harbor. For my children's generation, it would be the airplanes on September 11 flying into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Events such as these are so singular that they really seem to define a part of what that generation thinks and feels.

I learned just how fleeting and fragile generational things are. When I begin teaching a course at my community college, I always spend some time going over plagiarism. Clearly, plagiarizing is a major problem in academic settings, but it is a deadly subject. So, I found a wonderful article by Anna Quindlen which with a light touch deals with the subject. Titled "Danke Schoen, Mr. Las Vegas" she wrote about the time she discovered that an article she had written was pretty much wholesale appropriated by Wayne Newton. I would have the students read the essay, and then wait for discussion.

We first had to get past the title--the non-German aware students would want to know what danke schoen meant. And that Wayne Newton's signature song was "Danke Schoen." Then, invariably, some student would say "Who's Wayne Newton?" Talk about a deflating moment for me. It never occurred to me that the students wouldn't know who Wayne Newton is. I mean, I never found him particularly entertaining, but I certainly knew who he was.

By the time I explained who he was, the whole point of the essay--plagiarism--had been lost. One time, during this discussion, I jokingly said--when were you guys born? And for most of my students now, they were born in the late 1980s. That means Ronald Reagan was ENDING his presidency when these kids were born. WOW!

I have now learned to temper my examples, or to preface some of them with "this is my generation's. . ." For them, JFK is someone they read about in almost ancient history. Vietnam has as much clarity for them as World War II did for me--sure, I knew about it, I just hadn't experienced it.

So, what is your generational thing. . .?