Gen X!

Digging into the crevices of our cranial archives of the 80s and 90s serves two purposes.  First, may it resuscitate our own creative life force; stir in us that intoxicating thrill of birthing a creative project that’s sat dormant on our mental shelf for far too long. 

Second, let this be a love letter to Gen X.  We exhale a genuine sigh of relief that “Thank GOD” we didn’t have cell phones back in our day.  And in many ways that is a blessing. But in this technocratic world we find ourselves in, we are disappeared.  Grainy developed photos have no place in this cellphone camera landscape. Because our youth was not captured on personal devices and there was no social media to catalogue our adventures, our generation does not have fair representation.  We lived it.  But we didn’t record it.  And so no one else knows what happened but us.  As we fade, so do our memories. 

We are our generation’s star witnesses, the only ones who can testify about coming of age in the 80s and 90s.  But will our testimonies be transcribed, catalogued, and made available for generations to come? Only if we start writing and recording our stories. 

And so we say to our fellow Gen Xers: We are the SIM card of our generation.  Our brains are the organic hardware that stores our memories. And so now is a good time to start talking about and sharing our generation’s unique experiences and perspectives. Before our minds become outdated software in a failing operating system, waiting for miracle updates to extend our meat suit warranty.  We are entering our years of wisdom.  Let us not go quietly into retirement!