On a recent call with my dad, discussing the discourse around my previous article, something he said struck me: “Older people are just allowed to do that type of thing.”
He made the comment in reference to some particularly nasty remarks written on the Reveille’s social media, and it served as a stark reminder of how much our society revolves around age, how it bestows certain privileges on older generations: privileges of high social and political stature and commentary.
The idea of age privilege has certainly been deserved in the past — veterans, survivors of epidemics, scandals and cultural overhauls all finally placed at the front of the line and the bow of the ship, positions they rightfully earned after being ignored and uncared for for so long. The sentiment every American household centered around, “respect your elders,” was the proper mindset meant to inspire and cultivate wisdom in our youth for a long time.
While that sentiment does and should continue to hold weight, some connotations associated with it have outgrown their original intent.
I come from a family with a diverse range of life experiences (many of them mentioned above), some who worked their way up from nothing and others blessed from the beginning. I am a product of these wonderful people, who have all, in some way or another, worked through their unique and often difficult circumstances to turn out better versions of themselves, children and friends — all in an effort to build a better world.
I have had both the profound pleasure of inspiration from those family, friends and acquaintances older than myself, as well as a profound disappointment in the predispositions of age placed upon some of them. As older generations have passed the torch on, fewer and fewer have earned the rights of deference for experienced age, and yet all who’ve grown older have received the torch.
Take, for example, my granddad Joe, a veteran who was classified as an Army specialist 4 and missed much time away from his family during his time in the military. He and I hold differing opinions politically and experientially, as is natural given the discrepancy in our living through different generational events. Though he and I sometimes disagree, we have always done so respectfully and lovingly. He has an understanding of the nuanced events of my life versus his, and understands my difference in perception, as I do his. I would never begrudge him his opinion or right to one opposite of mine because of his age or who he is, and he would never do such a thing to me.
His age, his life experience, his sacrifice of time and effort for our country are all combining factors deserving of my respect, admiration and deference. He, however, is among the few who are willing to adapt their mind, heart and general disposition as the world around him changes.
That said, many members of older generations lived large parts of their lives at a time when different sentiments that are no longer socially acceptable were the norm. Sexism, racism and other inappropriate discriminations abounded in spades (as with any generation, just in different forms). As with any cultural overhaul, such as the ushering in of integration of Black and white Americans, all the way through the events leading to the digital age, some people were left behind.
Perhaps it is easier to despise the opinions of the newer generations, easier even to eat your young. There is a sensitivity, in the best and worst sense of the word, about both millennials (Generation Y) and Gen Z, one that makes the older and more stoic (or in some cases complicit) generations quite uncomfortable.
We are the first generations to have unlimited access to each other and to the wisdom of the world at large, and we are also the first generation with the ability to fact-check our elders.
Generations Y and Z are living vastly different realities than our elders did, after all — struggles with mental health were not only less prevalent but also heavily ignored in generations past (the digital age has forced comparison on even the most disconnected people and pitted us against each other), the ability to purchase lifelong assets has been greatly diminished, we are one of the first generations to front progressive social movements without the distraction of wartime, and are the first generations to consist largely of a meshing of fiscal conservatism and social liberalism.
We are the first generations that do not have to sit at the dinner table with our mouths shut, absorbing microaggressions or any other behaviors we don’t want to pass on to our children, the first with the ability — and perhaps a responsibility — to respect our elders without showing undue deference to them.
We are uniquely positioned with resources never before available to humanity to actually enact change in our world, and youth is no longer a quality that naturally equates to weakness or ignorance. Are you smarter than a college freshman? The answer doesn’t have to be no, but it is no longer logical to assume you know the answer.
This article is dedicated to my amazing grandparents — thank you for teaching me to stand firm in who I am and for always encouraging my writing.
Riley Sanders is an 18-year-old biology major from Denham Springs, La.
