The role of the millennial elder

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Baby Boomers, gen x, generational ambassador, generational attitudes, millennial elder, Millennials, self-employment

If I had a dollar for every article I’ve read about how the business world is readying itself for the millennial workforce, I might not be insanely rich, but I could at least take pretty swank trip to Spain with my loot. I know this because I’ve written a bunch of those articles, and read dozens of others for research. And each time I do, I think, “Wow. Would have been pretty cool if the world cared so much about this 10 years ago, when this millennial was entering the workforce.”

Millennial elder in action. Does all the pink help offset the term “elder?”

Ah. The woes of a millennial elder. Though the dates bookending my generation vary, the most common – and accurate, in my experience – call 1982 the dawn of the millennials. This means I am seven days away from being as old as millennial gets. Now, of course the lines are blurry. I know people up to a year older than myself who definitely fit into my generation, and those a year or so younger who are startlingly gen x-ish. But, by and large, if there a way to define a millennial elder, someone born in January, 1982 is about a close as it gets.

“Who cares?” is a perfectly fair question, but I believe being a distinct kind of millennial matters. While the world is obsessed with analyzing my generation, complaining about it and scrambling to brace itself for us, I think millennial elders have something to offer the conversation.

First, we are millennials, but we are also distinct. Like the first child born to inexperienced parents, while we might have much in common with our younger siblings, we’ve come of age in a world less prepared for us.

When I left college, society still expected me to find the job I’d want to keep for 30 years, secure my pension and stay there. Wanting to be a freelancer writer who worked from home made me laughable. Now, we’ve accepted the millennials will have dozens of jobs and multiple careers in their lifetimes, and they’ll likely find a way to work remotely in many of them. And that’s totally cool – no pressure or skepticism or dreams dashed because that’s just not what adults do.

When my peers were discovering the incredible benefits of mobile connectivity to our careers and personal lives, we were received the same flack for being glued to our phones as teenagers texting in class. No one even suspected that we might be doing something really important or beneficial. My husband recently stumbled into a surprising amount of criticism at a songwriters conference for using his laptop to collaborate with other writers. A decade from now, a young creative will be criticized for not using all of the tools at his disposal to connect with others and feed his creativity.

Because millennial elders had this trial by fire experience when entering the adult world, we have the ability, and perhaps the responsibility to be generational ambassadors. We had to adapt ourselves somewhat to fit into the world of gen x-ers and baby boomers, because we were all alone in dealing with them at first. We learned how to live in their world.

We know, for example, that baby boomers connect hours spent in the office with productivity and, to a certain extent, self-worth. We can help communicate with them that millennials aren’t actually working less hard just because they’re not doing it in an office during set hours, that half the time millennials are buried in their phones, they’re answering a work email or tweeting for career reasons, or that having to work remotely for a portion of a vacation is better than not going on a vacation at all. It’s also important for millennials understand how baby boomers tend to measure success, so they can better explain (er…justify?) what it is they do for a living, and how hard they work. Couldn’t hurt their chances of staying in their parents’ wills.

There’s also an attitude disparity between millennials and gen x-ers, which those of us who have worked with, grown up with and befriended many of them tend to understand better. On the whole, gen x-ers can be cynical and skeptical, whereas millennials are known for being aspirational and optimistic. This can make one group seem like jerks and the other like idiots, which doesn’t exactly endear them to each other. In reality though, these two generations have far more in common than they may believe. Those of us who have been immersed in both worlds can and should help them find common ground.

Finally, as much as the world can’t stop talking about us, there are few things baby boomers and gen x-ers love more than trashing millennials. Thanks guys. I’ll leave out the obvious fact that those attacking us ran the world and created the families that made us who we are, and get right to the fact that we’re just going to have to start proving just how not lazy/entitled/ungrateful/naive we are on our own, studies and commentators be damned.

That’s a pretty tall order for anyone in their teens or twenties, but the millennial elder crew has now hit 30. Or, ahem, hit it two years ago. We are business owners, parents, homeowners, community leaders and all around responsible adult people. And many of us are doing these things while being just as millennialistic as we began.

We are the proof that millennials aren’t going to destroy everything. And we should live up to it.

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An Economic Argument for Social Change

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economic development, Michigan economy, Millennials, social change

Here in Michigan, with the exception of a handful of cities, you can be evicted from your home for being gay. You may also be fired for the same reason. I find that unacceptable.  It’s actually unacceptable for everyone else in the state too, no matter what their political or personal beliefs may be, because it’s turning the same people away from living here that we are investing so much time and money to attract.

I wrote on this topic in a recent column in The Bridge, and it got a little bit of attention. The concept was based on the fact that we’re already spending so much on placemaking here in Michigan to attract and retain people in my own generation, we can’t continue to maintain and promote social policies that are detracting those same people. Really, it’s not a partisan argument. It’s just a simple, calculated line of logic that suggests we strengthen the investment we’re already making.

An interesting thing happened after the column ran. A lot of people read it. Oh, I’m sorry, did I say interesting? I meant a super cool, awesome, amazing thing. Among those readers were the folks at Michigan Radio, who invited me to be interviewed on Stateside with Cynthia Canty. Fast forward through my jumping up and down and clapping and giggling and general rabid excitement over getting to be on my very favorite show on my very favorite media outlet ON THE PLANET, and I was nervous. Not only to be interviewed, but for my opinion to be broadcast so far and wide. Would that be OK? Would it hurt my career? Would it hurt anyone’s feelings?

Now that the column is out and the interview has aired, I honestly still don’t know the answers to those questions, but I was left with a surprise result: I have even more to say about this. And I kind of want to say it, no matter how scary that may feel.

One of the questions Cynthia asked me during our interview was what Millennials themselves are doing to make Michigan the kind of place we want it to be. It was a super question, because one of the most stunning data points about my generation is that we are the least politically active ever. I considered saying, “Well, I mean, I just wrote 600 words on the topic, so I guess my work here is pretty much done,” but it occurred to me that sarcasm and news radio don’t always complement each other.

While I was answering the question though, some gears in my heads started whirring that have not stopped since. Writing a column about it isn’t enough. Maybe even writing a whole lot about it won’t be enough. What can I do to make sure Michigan doesn’t continue down the path of becoming an increasingly dangerous place for women’s healthcare? What am I doing to stave off ongoing attacks on our poorest citizens? Not a whole lot so far.

If I honestly feel that Michigan’s success is tied to attracting more young professionals to the state, and that these things are deterring them, I don’t really have the option of not doing anything, do I? Do we? So I’m looking at you guys — us, the children of the 80s and 90s who want to make Michigan a better place to live — what are we going to do about it?

What 9/11 means for my generation: A call for a less angry decade

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9/11, fear, finding hope, hope, Millennials, moving on, national tragedy, optimism, September 11

There’s something inherently awkward about tragedy that happens by you, but not to you. It’s hard to know how to react. When something awful happens to an acquaintance, knowing where the line between imposing and not properly addressing the gravity of the situation can make one feel confused, guilty and all sorts of weird.

Ten years later, I admit that this is how I felt on September 11. I was nineteen. I lived in Michigan. I’d never been to New York City. More importantly, the most notable national moments in my lifetime had been the Challenger disaster and OJ Simpson’s car chase. And I was four when Challenger happened, so OJ was pretty much it. Beyond being horrified by the facts of the day and the video on our TVs, no one in my generation had any idea of what this meant, or how it related to us. How could we?

It is clear to me now that we were truly all attacked that morning. Our way of life was threatened, and we didn’t know how to deal with it – especially those of us who didn’t have a person to mourn or a disrupted community to repair. Ten years ago we just woke up and realized that there was something to fear. After a fairly carefree couple of decades, we had to look up from our dorm rooms and our soccer games and take notice of a world in which we’d simply grown too secure.

I am tired of this. We get to recall people every four years without petitions or chanting or (hopefully) personal insults. All of the anger and energy going into these campaigns can surely be directed elsewhere. How about to developing alternate solutions to the issues in question?

It’s understandable that being removed from that security has made people angry and frustrated. I’d like to suggest, however, that we need to stand up to that fear. It’s time to stop the anger. It’s true that every generation has its trials, and that each is defined by how it negotiates them. I want to be part of the generation who says that while we were attacked, though our way of life was threatened, we did not let it consume us. We did not get swallowed up in fear and anger. We grew, we became wiser, and we regained our optimism. We remembered that happiness and hope is what makes America great.

I watched some of the amazing stories featured in Time’s “Beyond 9/11” issue this week. I was struck by the optimism of the survivers, and of the families whose loved ones did not survive the attacks. A decade later, one of the only four men who managed to escape from above the 78th floor finished his testimonial by saying he had no trouble telling his harrowing story anymore. It used to be hard, but he has no emotion left in the retelling; it’s like watching it on TV, he said. He’s put it behind him and is simply thankful for every day he has.

If you don't have a subscription to Time or an iPad, this issue alone is reason enough to go out and buy both. Or make friends with someone really cool who has them, like me.

If a man who watched a plane fly into his building from the 78th floor and managed to survive while so many he knew did not can say that he has only optimism and happiness in his heart every day, can’t the rest of us? Can’t the people from Missouri and Colorado and here in Michigan who were lucky enough to have been nowhere near New York, Virginia or Pennsylvania that day – can’t we let go of our anger and fear too?

I know there needs to be action steps here, not just a plea for empty optimism. I don’t know what they all are, but I know what I want them to feel like. I want us to remember how to disagree without disrespecting each other. I want policy discussions, not political fights. I suggest we redefine a political victory as not something that happens in November, but as a journey that begins with people sitting down together and compromising for the good of their constituents.

I believe this challenge is one my generation needs to address. We need do more than write “hope” and “change” on a bumper sticker and wait for someone else to achieve or fail to achieve whatever it was we meant by it. We need to wake up every morning and live hope and work for change. Optimism isn’t a default setting. It’s a skilled craft; it’s a life’s pursuit; and it’s a shared heritage that each of us should feel charged to step up and reclaim.