Still Crazy After All These Years

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