Lately, I’ve been pondering whether there’s anything left that young folks can truly call their own without older generations sneaking in on their turf. A survey from Tesco Mobile shed some light on the set of slang terms that Gen Z is using, which seem to baffle their parents and generally, the older crowd. This typically leads to the ritual head-scratching over youth lingo, as older folks might flinch at their unfamiliarity with it, much like characters from a ‘Clockwork Orange’ world.
Of course, there are some terms I’m unfamiliar with: “poggers” translates to excitement; “drip” means fashionable outfits; and “touch grass” implies spending time outside. Yet, I’ve come across others like “finsta” (a fake Instagram account to deceive parents), “NPC” (a non-player character or someone insignificant), “clout” (influence or popularity), “rizz” (charisma), and “brat” (bold and rebellious). Surprisingly, I recognized quite a few. Maybe too many.
It’s worth noting that modern parents seem to feel it’s their right to tease their kids by using this very slang. Borrowing a phrase from ‘Love Island’, I had months of amusement telling my youngest not to “deep it” — meaning not to overthink situations. The plus side? I’m not completely out of touch like that judge from the 60s who wasn’t aware of The Beatles. The downside? I might be something much worse: a cultural vampire of sorts, sinking my Gen X fangs into the vibrant youth culture — snatching up their language, fashion, music, shows, and films. I’m not alone.
We all know about cultural appropriation, where a dominant culture borrows elements of another without proper acknowledgment. Could there be a similar dynamic at play generationally, with older folks pilfering the symbols of youth culture, leaving young people with nothing uniquely theirs?
Think about the music you listen to. It’s probably not too different from what younger people enjoy, right? Are you comfortably browsing Spotify with no hint of embarrassment? What shows are you watching? What about your wardrobe? Are your choices steered strictly by grown-up brands, or do you find yourself venturing online toward styles marketed for the young, reasoning that they’ll suit you just fine?
Some say young people can’t even attend concerts or festivals without their parents wanting to tag along (they are, after all, footing the bill). Rebellious ankle tattoos are out of the question, too, since parents have made them a signature of middle-aged rebellion. The pattern continues. It seems that older generations aren’t merely observers of youth culture; they’re actively raiding it, extracting its essence to sustain themselves.
This isn’t a novel phenomenon by any stretch. Even in the 90s, adults with mortgages and full-time jobs were spotted skateboarding in their free time, and professional women proudly sported Little Miss Naughty T-shirts. So what’s the harm in people crossing the boundaries of their age brackets or pushing back against the notion of aging prematurely?
There’s an undeniable fascination and sometimes concern towards youthful generations. With reports frequently emerging about young people abstaining from sex and drinking — arguably sensible decisions. Then there’s the ongoing debate about the negative impact of mobile phones and online content. Just recently, Denmark banned phones from school environments. The persistent topic on many minds is mental health — statistics show that one in three individuals aged 18-24 has experienced issues like anxiety or depression. Has Gen Z faced greater challenges, or are they simply more open about them compared to past cohorts?
Reflecting on Gen Z, I’ve contemplated whether their experience is a curtailed youth period that might have to be resumed later when life feels less burdensome. Given today’s challenges — climate change, the pandemic aftermath, student loan debts, global conflicts, and systemic injustices — it’s hardly surprising they’re feeling the weight.
Nonetheless, there’s a world of difference between showing concern for younger generations and crashing their cultural scene. Amid the conversations and theories circling Gen Z, perhaps we’ve overlooked that they’re missing something older folks once had: a cultural landscape they could claim. Are we deluding ourselves when we ask, “Where’s the harm?”
If we’re talking strictly about music, older fans may have inadvertently driven prices up, potentially excluding young people from concert access. If older audiences weren’t lining up for expensive pop concerts and festivals (either going themselves or underwriting their children’s tickets), would we still see such high price tags? Maybe beyond student discounts, we should consider age-specific ticket pricing that allows true access.
While it’s fair to question the place of phones in educational settings, perhaps they’re one of the few arenas where young people maintain a bit of their own privacy and freedom. Slang might be a collective attempt to carve out a secret linguistic realm (not unlike Polari used in secretive gay communities). Could teenagers’ frequent adaptations of slang be a means to guard it against the prying eyes of older generations, like me?
At this point, reversing the tide of generational mixing seems unlikely, but perhaps we can aim for greater awareness. As they say, no need to overcomplicate things. Sometimes, it might serve us well to step back and allow the younger generation their own cultural space.
Barbara Ellen is a columnist with the Observer. Interested in sharing your thoughts on the topics discussed here? Feel free to submit a letter to us at [email protected].
