The Burden We Place On Gen Z

Celebrating the strength of Generation Z while confronting our own responsibilities.

Photo by John Rodriguez.

I was watching a video recently from a panel with three Generation Z activists, each of them couldn’t have been any older than eighteen-years-old. These young ones were holding court on matters that have long troubled the souls of those who came before them—climate change, the violent erasure of bodily autonomy, and the epidemic of gun violence.

Their voices, while they wavered at moments with the timidity of youth, were laced with a confidence and determination that spoke of an inner fire. They might not have possessed the polished articulation of seasoned academics or the diplomatic finesse of politicians, but the raw, unfiltered truth in their words had an authenticity that is often absent in more rehearsed dialogues. They were not just speaking; they were echoing the soul-cry of their generation.

Yet, as my eyes slid downwards, into the comments of the video, I was met with a curious mix of reactions. It wasn’t that these young panelists were being dragged through the proverbial mud. But the scrutiny, the meticulous dissection of every phrase, every pause, every perceived flaw was palpable. The critiques, many of them dripping with an almost condescending tone, felt less like constructive criticism and more like an attempt to quiet the revolutionary spirit these young people brought to the table.

What frustrated me most was that after clicking on the accounts of some commentators and examining their profiles (yes, we all do this at one point or another), I realized they were all my age or older. I spent the rest of my night thinking about how little grace those commentators had offered young people actually doing something.

“How dare they,” I thought to myself, wondering whether I should angrily reply to some of the comments (this is where I typically draw the line).

My mind eventually turned to the fact that every generation, it seems, is born into a world not of their making, and each new generation is handed down the cumulative burdens and blessings of the ones preceding. This cycle is why I have spent much of my writing career weaving tales for young minds, hoping to ignite in them a flame of curiosity, passion, and commitment to the greater good.

Hoping to offer more blessings than burdens.

It is a distinct honor to have these purposeful conversations with younger generations, to contribute to their evolving consciousness. But Gen Z holds a particularly special place in my heart. As they are not merely the listeners of stories; they are powerful narrators, forging their own tales in a world of constant flux.

The society they were born into was complex, to say the least. From the shadows of 9/11 to the challenges posed by climate change, from the rapid evolution of technology to the revolutionary tremors of political and social justice movements, Gen Z's formative years have been both tumultuous and enlightening.

In the books I’ve penned, especially "Better Than We Found It," I have sought to connect with these young people, not as a preacher from a pulpit, but as a fellow traveler on a shared journey towards progress. I've attempted to offer a mirror, a lens through which they might see their own power and potential. In return, they've illuminated for me the transformative energy that they carry within.

But there's a particular sort of musing that settles in the air these days, especially among those who are interested in moving the world forward socially and politically. In those sorts of circles, most conversations about saving our ailing world inevitably turn to the youth. People speak of Gen Z as if they are saviors sent in thrift store attire to usher in an era of unprecedented change.

It's a sentiment I’ve heard whispered at dinner tables, at conferences, and on airplanes, a sort of absolution passed down. “Gen Z will save us,” some claim, lips tinged with the bitter aftertaste of relinquished responsibility. “They're the generation that'll get it right,” others declare, with a casualness that makes me wonder if they realize that these young people are also human.

While I have immeasurable faith in Gen Z, I find myself uneasy, haunted by the gravity of such assertions.

It is essential to dissect this fawning, to understand the nuances of our collective hopes and fears, and to question why we're so willing to place so much at the feet of today's youth. Within our rhetoric lies a deceptive duality: the danger of oversimplification and the burden of unfair expectation.

Firstly, the near deification of Gen Z obscures their humanity. To paint them all with a broad brush of optimism is to rob them of their individual stories, challenges, and adversities. Like every generation before them, Gen Z is not a monochrome image of ideals. They are laced with diverse threads — woven of passion, and purpose, and inclusion, and so much they’ve yet to even tap into.

But to herald them as a singular beacon of hope is to dangerously forget that within their ranks, too, exist those who have been taught to deny the existential threat of climate change, those who harbor racism, those who resist progress for the LGBTQ+ community, and more. Which is especially true in a time when their elders are waging a culture war so vile that I’ve watched white pre-teens tearing apart my books in belief that the act is almost holy. Praying their parents are proud of them.

By placing Gen Z on an unrealistic pedestal, we inadvertently isolate them, making their inevitable fall all the more profound. The consequence of such deification is a collective amnesia, wherein we forget that the fervor of youth doesn't automatically equate to unwavering moral righteousness — or assurances of victory.

We have seen this before, in the generations that were born into the fiery crucible of the Civil Rights era and the ash of World War I and II, like them, the young people of today have been handed a chalice that is both a gift and a curse. But the difference is that even those generations had the luxury of discovering themselves and their place in the world. Whereas today’s young generation is told, often and loudly, that they are the world's last hope.

The wounds of systemic racism, climate change, economic disparity, and political instability have been festering, and rather than facing these issues head-on, it seems older generations have given them, gift-wrapped with a side of existential dread, to their successors.

Where once the young looked to the skies and dreamt of flight, Gen Z is burdened by the impending collapse of those very skies because of climate disasters. The Earth, which has cradled civilizations through centuries, is groaning under the weight of our exploitation, and Gen Z inherits the mandate to heal its wounds. It’s unfair.

Even the very nature of work, success, and prosperity is being rewritten before their eyes. Automation, artificial intelligence, and the gig economy are transforming what it means to be employed, to be productive, to be "successful." Economic disparities widen, and the path to financial security seems ever more elusive.

By nonchalantly projecting our aspirations onto them, are we not partially fleeing from our own duty? Are we not subtly indicating that the mess we’ve either directly created or passively witnessed is now theirs to clean up? Handing them our unfinished symphonies, our battles half-fought, and our dreams half-realized is not a gift — it's a burden. It's a subtle whisper saying, “Fix what we could not.”

Should the task of salvaging our environment, of rectifying social inequalities, of building bridges where we erected walls, fall squarely on their young shoulders? Is it not an endeavor that calls for the unity of all, young and old, past and present?

I ask, because it oftentimes doesn’t sound like people are ready to lock arms with them on the front lines, but rather wait and watch from a distant outpost.

Certainly, Gen Z possesses the digital fluency, the global perspective, and the revolutionary spirit to influence profound societal shifts. Their marches, their online campaigns, their voices — they all resonate with an urgency that's both laudable and inspiring. Despite immense pressure, we see young activists, thinkers, and creators doing everything from tackling climate activism to redefining gender norms. Gen Z has not shied away from the task, even though the weight is heavy.

But let us not mistake resilience for invincibility.

Nearly nine out of ten Gen Z youth that were returning to school this year said they were experiencing mental health challenges on a regular basis. Which makes sense with a new existential crisis manifesting daily, the pitfalls of social media, and having spent essential years of their youth in the whirlwind of the COVID-19 pandemic.

The kids are amazing — but they’re not always alright.

Behind the brave faces are young souls grappling with mental health crises, a world of disinformation, and an overwhelming sense of having to save everything they love. They are doing their best, often in spaces that weren’t built for them, often in a world that refuses to understand them.

Which is why it's imperative to remember that admiration should not translate to abdication.

What then, must we do? The answer is simple, though its execution is complex. We must walk alongside them, not behind them pushing them forward or ahead of them blocking their way. To guide without stifling, to listen without dismissing, to empower without overwhelming. The young have always been, to some extent, the hope of the future, but we must remember that they are also the joy of the present.

Gen Z is a testament to the invincible spirit of humanity, a spirit that shines brightest when challenged. But let us not fetishize their strength, forgetting our role in their journey. We must continue to face our collective responsibilities, allowing them to flourish not just as our saviors, but as the vibrant, multifaceted individuals they truly are.

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