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.
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