I was born on March 21st, 1997, three months after the millennial generation ended. As one of the very first living Gen Z babies, I was thrust into a culturally awkward transition stage, where OJ Simpson was old news but you could still get on a plane with someone else’s boarding pass.
The discomfort of living on the cusp became more of a reality as time passed. I often felt awkward during conversations some of my older friends would have when the subject turned to “where were you on 9/11?”. I was four when 9/11 happened. I don’t have a story. But 9/11 wasn’t the tragedy of my generation, the Sandy Hook Shooting was (and frankly every mass shooting that came after). I was living in Connecticut at the time when Sandy Hook happened, and we were on lockdown for almost 3 hours. It was terrifying.
As an adult “cusper”, I experience more or less the same amount of awkward cultural and social mismatching. I of course lean toward hanging out with millennials, since they tend to be older and make up the majority of my workplace. But I also love being placed in the generation that everyone is hoping will save the planet, end gun violence, and clean up the shit show government. I’m the first person to denounce myself when I hear someone complaining about “Ugh those whiny millennials!” but I also can’t picture myself hanging out with a bunch of teenagers who got addicted to mango flavored nicotine. It’s a conundrum.
All of this condenses down to feeling a sense of non-belonging. I’ve talked to other people who were born on the cusp, millennials, Gen Y’s, and even baby boomers. And while we all experience different cultural and social struggles, our common battle boils down to the truth that it’s hard to belong in a society that wants to clump you together. And it’s particularly harder now that modern day marketing and advertising isolates certain age groups for certain products, social platforms, and experiences. Older cuspers recall that when they were younger, they leaned toward hanging out with the older generation, but started embracing the younger generation they were actually a part of when they reached the middle of their life to stay young and relevant. They also felt wiser and more respected among those only a few years younger than them simply because they were able to pass for an older and more established generation of people.
All of this is not to say, “I’m a cool individual who can’t be categorized!” It’s more of an open acknowledgment that now more than ever I feel responsible to not view age or experience as a benchmark for relationship. That the generational gaps are opportunities for making connections, not for reinforcing our differences. And that regardless of age, unless you were in downtown New York City when the twin towers fell, your 9/11 story probably isn’t that interesting. I stand by that joke. It’s been 17 years. We can joke about it now.