Yep! Felt like that. Photo by Hannah Nelson from Pexels |
(This is the very first piece I published as a columnist, after over ten years building myself up in the TnT print media. The date was Wednesday, September 1, 1999. The column was Surfacing; about as unprecedented an entrance to commentary as my small twin-isle Republic ever witnessed.)
I TURNED 30 this year, and the world did
not end.
No. The world as I had known it actually
ended years ago, when I struck 25 and started spiraling towards the big
three-O. It was at that time I first crossed over into an utterly alternate
existence – the age I’ve come to christen “No Man’s Land.”
I cocked my ears, eyes, mind and inhaled
the new world, taking in what happens when one gets past the growing-up phase
and embarks on the journey of growing out.
So the world still happens, but not as
it did when I was younger.
The “Once Were Generation X” – now
caught in this limbo-land between true youth and full maturity – has become the
displaced, dispossessed brothers and sisters of the day … and this is my
generation.
No longer are we “the future of
society.” Now that title is conferred upon the ones who will come after us; so
deemed by those who preceded us. As a result, even though we will come into
power before the youth of today, we find ourselves being overlooked by
Government, by the elders, by the world at large.
Generation ignored
“My generation” is made up of persons
coming to the brink of where I now am, and those fresh from the edge: the 25 to
35 age group – unseen, unrecognised, unaided.
Society makes no special effort for our
part. It is misconstrued that we can take care of ourselves at present, having
grown up and come into our own.
Only, what is it exactly that we are
supposed to have come into?
For, as yet, we are not the movers and
shakers of the nation’s power. We do not control the money, the politics, the
Arts, the labour force. We are not yet established enough for any of that.
However, neither are we given the
special consideration afforded our younger counterparts: from Smart StartÔ
bank accounts to educational sponsorship to the exposure to be gained via
creative competitions.
We are, by and large, also ignored by
the Media and treated with condescension by a government which knows the
importance of our vote, but would callously cripple us with unfair taxation
just as we are trying to find our own two feet to stand upon.
We are left, at best, on dubious
footing.
Gone invincibility
Past now are the days when our doubts,
hang-ups and frustrations were treated with a certain tolerance. Now even we
take to beating ourselves up when we fail to live up to the identity into which
we have purportedly grown.
Here is also where
we begin to touch mortality.
Gone, gone the perceived invincibility
of youth. Enter the world of threatening ovarian and prostate cancer, budding
cellulite, halting breast examinations, looming nuptials, flying from the nest
and just plain do or die. Who will catch us if we fall here?
Yet, we are expected to be “mature” as
we face up to the pain of becoming responsible.
How can any of this be seen as easy? Or,
better asked, why are the difficulties we face not seen as legitimately arduous
by those outside our “No Man’s Land” realm?
How we would love to have a manual like
the ones which explained puberty to us; like the ones explaining the changes of
life our parents would eventually endure. But who writes aimed at “No Man’s
Land”?
I plan to make a start.
Yet, while my perspective will always be
taken through the eyes and emotions of my generation, I will be trying to speak
to everyone who cares to read. Being not yet above umbrage, bitterness and
fear, I do not claim to have some dirigible cure-all effect for humanity. No.
I’m feeling my way, too.
The basis of my work will be to
chronicle the workings of Time, society, culture, trends and politics, from my
generation’s horizon.
I am what I am, and Time has played its
music all over my life. I have danced to the rhythm, trying to catch up, keep
in tune, though often getting hopelessly lost. After all, it is said you are
only as old as you feel. Well I feel pretty old sometimes. And I feel pretty
young.
For most of us, this “No Man’s Land”
marks the time when we first begin to ask in earnest: What have I done? What
will I leave? If I die now, who will care that I have died? Who will care that
I have lived?
No one may mourn my demise, but I have
managed to put a hundred years’ worth of living into three hard-won decades and
learned much along the way; such as:
“Bullshit is a bad defence, at best.”
And I have learned about love. The true
culture of it is being silenced left and right, and those of us intolerant of
the new cold wave are cast as being impolite. “Now we are supremely divided.”
It is at this stage, too, when we most
often decide whether to be “lovers” or else to be people who decry and stultify
them. Hopefully, I will be a voice of love for my generation. And the rest will
fall in line.
So I am still crazy after all these years
… still crazy in love with the world despite what people try to teach me. Till
next time, shine on.
I welcome all responses, for better or
for worse.
Compare Jhaye-Q writer then to now. Hit the link: Trinbago Come Good blog
Compare Jhaye-Q writer then to now. Hit the link: Trinbago Come Good blog
1 Comments
You go, girl! Change that. Don't go anywhere. Stay where I can read you ;D
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