17: The disempowerment of NOW
Gen Z in the workforce and our culture of impatience detached from realism
Stop where you are and please take a minute to read Anna’s piece from last week: “Creativity in crisis: exploring the harsh reality of creative work in 2021.” This week’s newsletter is a direct response to Anna’s discussion of the ways in which creative work has become both glorified and increasingly unstable over time. In asking what it means to “have it all” in life and work—and what sacrifices might be required to achieve what is seemingly ideal—Anna prompted me to think about my own relationship with creative labor as well as what seems to be a concerning generational concept of success. This essay stands on the shoulders of her wordsmithing and research (as well as our shared discourse carried out through overlong texts over the course of a week!).
While taking in everything Anna had to offer regarding the bleak reality of creative work under capitalism, I was overwhelmed by competing urges to give voice to further concerns about the way we view fulfillment and to foster some hope through reconceptualization. I don’t think these things have to be mutually exclusive. It is imperative to acknowledge that the world we live in is increasingly inhospitable to us as laborers, as Anna has so thoughtfully done. But it is also necessary to consider the ways in which we can control our experiences in the workforce and be more aware of our generational tendency to set ourselves up for failure—perceived or otherwise.
Anna’s piece grappling with making a living by writing under unstable conditions points to the fact that young people view success or fulfillment—career-wise, lifestyle-wise—as “having it all.” True success only exists when all of the boxes are ticked and you’re getting everything you want right now. I see this viewpoint in Anna, in myself, and in so many other young people who recently broke into the workforce or are still trying to do so. And it makes sense that this worldview is so widespread.
Generation Z (of which you are a part if you were born in 1997 or later—welcome!) is the first generation to grow up in a fully digitized world where technology has infiltrated every aspect of our day-to-day lives. As of 2016, the Huffington Post reported that 92% of Gen Z had a digital footprint or substantial online presence. The rise of social media has saddled young people with the stress of visibility on top of the usual difficulties of making one’s way into adulthood. Successes and failures are perceived as highly visible to peers due to the fact that they’re often accompanied with status updates, LinkedIn announcements, and celebratory social posts. Sharing career success has become an integral part of upholding one’s (sorry) personal brand, whether that impulse is apparent or not. Even as a staunch hater of Facebook and LinkedIn, I felt inclined to post about my official entrance into the workforce and let my extended family members know that I, too, was doing something concrete with my life. In writing this, I realize how much pressure I felt to publicly demonstrate that I was succeeding after being demoralized by ten months of un- and under-employed scrambling and dashed opportunities.
Beyond feeling the invisible influence of our peers, the media inundates us with readymade examples of “overnight” successes. No one wants to hear stories about years upon years of hard work and practice spent outside of the spotlight. So we don’t hear them. Instead, we are flooded with mythical stories of young people who spun success out of thin air in a snap and we quietly aspire to be them or measure ourselves up to them, wondering why we can’t replicate their achievements. This is especially the case with creative industries and, more specifically, writing—one of the career areas where a significant portion of success is predicated on having a multi-platform online presence and carefully curated public persona. Because most of the people doing cutting-edge creative work are young, their prominence can really ramp up the pressure young people feel to achieve just as much just as quickly. As a result, we can falsely come to the conclusion that we are failing if we aren’t able to do so.
In addition to society’s promotion of effortlessly rising to the top as success, these constant media-based distractions have eroded our attention spans. We (and I truly say we, as I’m very much including myself here) are chained to our devices so much so that our attention span averages out at 8 seconds and social media usage per day per American adult is above 2.5 hours. For the aforementioned reasons, this phenomenon is incredibly heightened for those of us in Generation Z--the first generation of “Digital Natives.” Our generation has rarely had to wait to be entertained, served, or updated given that we grew up with technology at our fingertips. We are so attuned to instant gratification and sudden success stories that we are forgetting what it is to prioritize, to focus indefinitely, or to pursue singular goals over extended periods of time. We are forgetting that there is no way to expedite the slow (sometimes painfully so!) periods of growth required to achieve natural success. We are forgetting that putting in the time to get where you want to go doesn’t equate to failure.
We’re not only facing a crisis when it comes to creative work. We’re facing a generational crisis of patience. In light of what Henry Latham has termed a “radical shift in human behavior since the advent of the digital age” in his Medium piece “Society’s Problem With Patience,” young people are less patient with themselves than ever—especially when working under the increasing strain of capitalism that Anna so clearly detailed in her piece. American society has sold success to us as something we need to achieve now but hasn’t provided the majority of young people with the tools to even begin that process. It provides us with systemic exclusion of marginalized groups, unstable or inadequate working conditions, and a trend toward alienation from our labor—though it wraps it up with a pretty bow. We are seemingly no longer afforded the time or resources to be patient: to practice “the simple recognition that things take time,” as Latham puts it.
As a result, the personal expectations we burden ourselves with are especially weighty. We connote success with having it all—and NOW. We’ve been force-fed the idea that we’re supposed to start off our careers working our dream jobs in our dream cities, but if we’re being honest with ourselves, so few young people can attain that on their own without financial help or networking (see: nepotism). But that’s not the narrative we’ve been sold. So we don’t afford ourselves a realistic amount of time to actually become independent and gain experience. Unlike getting rich quick, realism has not been glamorized. Our generation has been taught that we are not to value planning for our futures, starting small, or beginning with work even tangentially related to what you ultimately want to do.
As someone who has had to make a lot of really practical work-related life decisions in the past and especially recently, I have been thinking about the way the lack of idealized narrative for working toward doing what you want or living where you want over time paints practical choices as failures. I have felt this in my own life when working multiple part-time jobs in undergrad because I couldn’t afford to hold down unpaid internships, living at home in Minnesota with my parents after college to save money, and choosing to get a full-time job because I couldn’t take on debt to attend graduate school. I sometimes felt less-than because I couldn’t live out the same experiences as my friends or peers in good financial conscience—like I wasn’t working hard enough. But the reality is that I didn’t have the same resources they did. The expectation that we should be living our dream lives right away should not keep us from being proud of what we have accomplished or what we are working toward just because our dream is not yet fully attained. Living within your means isn’t a failing.
Further, the glamorization of the starving artist lifestyle has not kept up with our times. It is okay to think practically—to want bare minimum things we deserve like health insurance and a 401(k) and PTO if you’re sick. It’s okay to want stability and have that factor into your choices given the state of the world. We need these things sooner rather than later as adults—especially in these uncertain times—and it’s okay to acknowledge that fact. We ultimately have to live within this broken system that doesn’t value us or our labor, and you can still find ways to work against it while allowing yourself to secure necessary practical protections in exchange for your labor.
The supposed binary between doing what you love vs. being a capitalistic drone needs to be troubled as Gen Z enters the workforce. A lot of privilege and luck goes into immediately being able to do just what you love out of the gate, and even if you aren’t privileged and/or lucky, that doesn’t mean you won’t care about what you’re doing in your first job. On a personal note, my first job isn’t what I expected. I’m working in my dream sphere—but in scientific journals instead of trade publishing. Instead of flexing my usual editorial skillset, I’m making use of my graphic design minor and experience with digital multimedia by editing scientific illustrations, updating websites, managing social media, and coordinating/moderating a podcast. What you do day by day can be different from your ideal passions (for me, creative writing) but still buoy you if your work is mission-based and helps you to hone your creative impulses in different ways. There is also something to be said about not burning out all of your creative energy at your 9-to-5, balancing your output by managing various projects, and collaborating with and learning from non-creatives (in my case, neurologists!). Beyond this, expanding into various roles and developing new skills will help you compare your experiences and determine what it is you truly want to do. Ultimately, you will have opportunities to start out in unexpected positions that still speak to you in some way and allow you to make a tangible difference in the world—maybe even in a more concrete way than your desired creative output might.
In recognizing the ways in which society has failed Gen Z and then repackaged these failings as our own, we can hopefully make space to be kinder to ourselves about the time it may take for us to, say, get a writing job or move back to London (here’s looking at you, Anna!). We don’t need to have it all right away. Most of us can’t, anyway. While not the most glamorous option, making a long-term plan and working toward your dreams incrementally is more realistic. And as Anna pointed out, these hard times call for realism. Independence achieved as a result of work experience related even tangentially to what you’re dreaming of is still independence, and it’s something to celebrate. Preparing ourselves for the adult world that awaits us shouldn’t feel like a failing, and we have more time than we often allot ourselves to forge a healthier relationship with our labor. We don’t have to compromise on doing what we love, but we do need to afford ourselves the time and space to get to where we need or want to be under these working conditions, understanding that things might take a different shape than we expect for a while. In the meantime, we just need to be patient with ourselves. We have time; we should take it. The rest will follow.
ORANGES! This is a super basic thing to not hate, but I’ve been obsessed with snacking on oranges as of late. My orange of choice is the lovely cara cara. It has red flesh, so it looks like a little grapefruit on the inside but is still super sweet (though complex in flavor). You can’t go wrong with a classic navel orange, either! All I can say is that I’m definitely not getting scurvy in 2021.
Minari. So, I’m potentially going to do a run-through of heavy-hitter films this year on TWHI. As such, I’ll keep this brief. But I can confidently say that this is the best film of the year. I have so many thoughts about the classification of a deeply American story written by a Korean-American about Korean-American immigrants tilling their American dream out of the unwieldy Arkansas soil and speaking both Korean and English in the process as a foreign language film (Hollywood Foreign Press, I just want to talk). But moving beyond my anger, this film offers stunningly realistic acting performances, beautiful shots of the American landscape, and a realistically undulating storyline that makes you feel so much so deeply when it comes to both grief and joy. I could not say enough good things about Youn Yuh-jung, who plays the grandmother and family matriarch. Her acting feels lived-in and positively real—and I can’t wax poetic about the range it requires without spoilers. Watch this film and you will be moved. Here’s hoping the Academy recognizes it for what it is: an important American story and the best film of the year.
“Everyone Is Beautiful and No One Is Horny,” an article by RS Benedict. This essay covers the transition from natural depictions of sex and naked bodies in the films of the 80s and 90s to the wildly perfect bodies presented in action movies of today (think Marvel) and their decoupling from genuine expressions of sexual desire. The piece moves beyond filmic applications to discuss the ways in which our overall society has implicitly become almost puritanical about sex over time—you have to be in immaculate shape to be considered morally good or well-balanced or have value, and society pressures you to remove looking good for sexual purposes from that factor. We’re all supposed to be on some ~personal journey~ if we’re attempting to change our shape. Benedict also covers how achieving such joylessly “perfect” bodies often means you’re harming yourself in some way regardless of your gender, shedding light on the prominence of disordered exercising and eating in both women and men. A truly thought-provoking read that makes me want to write more on this topic.
Framing Britney Spears. Also keeping things tight here given that I might want to write about this in the near future, but this 75-minute documentary from the New York Times truly provided me with so much perspective on how disgustingly the popstar was treated by the media during the most trying times of her life. What once was deemed “crazy” in an era before mental health was openly discussed now seems like an understandable response to constant lifelong scrutiny and pressure from all sides. A point from the documentary that stayed with me: what happened to Britney (her being placed in a contentious conservatorship under her father against her wishes after “acting out”) would have never happened if she were a man. Very much a case of demonized female sexuality and a very antiquated take on her struggles as something akin to female hysteria. Anyway, #FreeBritney.
My new laptop! Yes, you heard right. I have more or less recovered from my laptop loss and resultant devastation. As such, I invested in a really sturdy ~gaming laptop~ from Lenovo because I am a ~gamer girl~. I even souped it up—I was serious about this one! I really don’t hate having a laptop with a functioning track pad and enough substance to refrain from randomly dying on me. And yeah, writing this week’s installment on it was a dream!