Peter Pan Syndrome

City: Orlando, Florida

Reading: The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton

Listening to: Beirut, Elephant Gun

Wearing: Vintage Nelson Mandela face tee

Ode to Youth

Recently I was reading a wikipedia article on Generation Y. Apparently Kathleen Shaputis has noted in The Crowded Nest Syndrome: Surviving the Return of Adult Children that Generation Y "is also sometimes referred to as the Boomerang Generation or Peter Pan Generation because of their perceived penchant for delaying some of the rites of passage into adulthood longer than most generations before them." It comforted me that what I, and many of those around me had termed my inability to 'grow up' was, according to wiki, a generational syndrome.

Coincidentally, the day after I began drafting this post (awhile ago- I have to write things down when I think of them!) the New York Times published an article called "What Is It About 20-Somethings?" The article noted that in the late ’60s a Yale psychologist, Kenneth Keniston, proposed that there was another phase of life called Youth. Keniston wrote that there was “a growing minority of post-adolescents [who] have not settled the questions whose answers once defined adulthood: questions of relationship to the existing society, questions of vocation, questions of social role and lifestyle.” He wrote in the 60s that previously (in what was presumably the 50s and earlier), such aimlesslessness was sociologically confined to the “unusually creative or unusually disturbed" but he had come to understand the phase as well within the confines of normality.

These views provide support to my own long held theory on the progression of life. The theory goes that life is divided into 4 stages- childhood, youth, adulthood, retirement. Analysis of these stages proves the following: in childhood you have no responsibility but no freedom, in youth you have no responsibility and plenty of freedom, in adulthood you pretty much only have responsibility and in retirement you have freedom but you don't have the mental or physical capacity to enjoy it. Generations prior to Y felt that the four stages should be divided as follows: 18 years of childhood, 5 years of youth, 42 years of adulthood and approximately 15 years of retirement (depending on death). Looking at my above analysis I long ago came to the conclusion that these stages should be divided equally (20 years each). It is illogical to think that humans can significantly shorten what is undoubtedly the most pleasurable phase of their life. Illogical and tedious really.

And yet despite the fact that a psychologist in the 60s could recognise this pattern of behaviour, now in the not so naughties, I feel acutely aware of a societal judgment that distinctly places me in the categories of “unusually creative or unusually disturbed" (most likely the latter). My recent foray back to student land has met a deal of disapproval. Even I, if we are being honest, slightly disapprove of my inability to grow up. I am constantly questioning why the older I get, the more I seek out younger friends; why as soon as I got a steady job I made plans to be a student again; why I have not lived (nor have I wanted to live) in the same place for more than 18 months since I left school; and why I habitually revel in the joys of the young. Case in point- in my room at Oxford I have a pale pink onesie and a remote control helicopter.

I think in many ways my love of childhood toys and activities is a subconscious manifestation of my desire to show people that I am delaying adulthood, that this desire to delay adulthood is a well recognised psychological pattern and that I am ok with it. I also think that by pressuring adulthood and maturity we as a society forget the elements of youth that were fun. I can only but encourage blowing bubbles and jumping on a trampoline to remember what happiness simple pleasures can bring. One of my favourite things about my Dad is that he still cries with laughter (literally) at jokes about poo and wee. As my favourite magazine Frankie notes: "When people say 'you're acting childish' it's usually a put down...But there is something special about acting like a kid. The innocence. The exuberance. The wide-wyed ability to fall on your face and come back laughing. In the right place and time, acting immature is ace." I can assure you, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal is magical, no matter your age, if you let it be.

I Ate a Whole Crab for Breakfast

Location: New Orleans, Louisiana


Listening to: Ellis Marsalis

Eating: Gumbo, Jumbalaya, Red Beans and Rice, Beignets, Soft Shell Crab...too much really

Watching: Treme

There is a strange sadness that permeates the air in New Orleans. It is almost a romantic sadness that lingers from the rich history of its people and the city as a whole. New Orleans is the city of grand Napoleonic architecture, of the sadness of Tennessee Williams, of Jazz music that penetrates your soul and of drinking so you can't remember yesterday, nor think about tomorrow. My Mum and I sat across from the former abode of Truman Capote and breathed in the stifling hot air, the sounds and smells that inspired genius and the heart break. There is undoubtedly beauty in the tragedy.

An Environmental Disaster


There is a silent sense that the New Orleans tragedy will not be defined by Hurricane Katrina. New Orleaneans are quick to quip that Katrina was an environmental, and not natural, disaster. It was the Federal Government's failure to rebuild the levies that caused the flooding that engulfed the city and wreaked devastation. Katrina was not an act of god but an act of human disregard.

The emotive accusations of blame got me thinking about was the incontrovertible relationship between natural disasters and vulnerable people. Certainly an element of this relationship is that poorer people are less equipped to deal with natural disasters- their homes are not as well built, they are less likely to have transport that allows them to evacuate and they are less likely to have insurance to repair the damage caused. An earthquake in Pakistan can and will cause a much greater deal of damage than an earthquake in New Zealand, where the buildings are structurally sound. The poor will be hit by the hand of disaster much harder than the rich.

But there is also undoubtedly a 'don't care' factor. Many argued that New Orleans was poor and corrupt before the hurricane which placed them in the 'don't care' pile for the Federal Government. When Haiti was hit by the devastating earthquake in January of this year, many a phone caller to ABC radio proclaimed there was no point in providing aid when the money would likely go into some fat man's pocket. These sentiments were only increased after the Pakistan flood. It is as though society has decided that there are places beyond repair in this world and we have convicted them to life without bail.

Where to from here

Our bus driver showed us the school Sandra Bullock had built and the Artists village Harry Connick Jnr had initiated and Brad Pitt's Make It Right homes in the 9th ward. He had us all shouting (clearly NOT Mum and I) 'who dat' and 'two dat' and he forged some tears on the brims of his eyes when describing the Giants super bowl win. But I kept wondering if much had changed. Five years later BP had allowed a leak to cause immeasurable damage to the Gulf with relative impunity. Is New Orleans still relegated to the 'don't care' basket? Is the suffering part of its appeal? Is the tragedy that shapes the romance indeed a tragedy in itself? I can not proclaim to know the answers to these questions.

What I do know is that New Orleans is a beautiful city. Its vibrancy reaches into the travellers' very core. I hope that as a society we can breathe new life in every city, or country, that bares the scars of disaster. I know that no place is beyond reconstruction, new life, and new hope.