You know, we try really hard not to hate you. Really hard. You’re my parents’ generation, you know? And I fucking love my parents.
But your generation really needs to learn to shut up and take a good, hard look at yourselves.
Today, I tried to get advice in a civil, polite and educated manner about a situation in which one is trying to juggle work and uni. I wanted to know how one could navigate the narrow criteria to qualify for youth payments from the government. And while some people were helpful, some were outright disgusting. All they could say is “KIDS THESE DAYS ARE SO SELFISH/LAZY/ETC MAYBE YOU SHOULD SPEND LESS TIME ON YOUR SOCIAL LIFE.”
Okay, firstly—if I ask you for advice and that is your response, which, by the way, I CAN DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WITH, how about youshut the fuck up?
Secondly, are you seriously fucking saying that every single person in my generation doesn’t work hard? You’re saying that to me? I’m a DIRECTOR at the age of 24 in an organisation with over 200 employees. I have two degrees. I work, intern, study, and volunteer, and the first thing that gets put aside when I’m busy is my social life. And you know what that results in? A FUCKING LOT OF CRYING AND PANICKING AND PSYCHOLOGIST APPOINTMENTS. I have a great resume and references, but do you know how much I paid for that in terms of my own fucking sanity?? A FEW FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS IN TEARS, THANK YOU.
Thirdly, let’s talk about how the average burn-out rate in my youth organisation is 7 months. 7 months, and these are kids who volunteer, as well as study at uni or school, work and pay their own rent, utilities and bills, and are under the age of 22, in most cases.
My 21 year old director messaged me today to tell me she wasn’t coming in because had a mental break and panic attack last night, and she’s only been in the role for 3 months.
My 24 year old best friend had a nervous breakdown last month because of the stress of her workload, working full time at EY and studying 1 unit of uni.
My 25 year old ex-boyfriend and I split up because he didn’t have the time or mental capacity for a long distance relationship on top of his 60 hour graduate working week in construction management and 2 units of uni.
I had a meltdown last year at 23 because I was handling full time uni, and internship and volunteering. I can’t get a job despite testing within the top 15th percentile of graduates because you’re not creating them.
I went for a meeting at one of the biggest financial management organisations in Australia the other day and was told that the 9-5 job was a lie, that you’re expected to work more, and not be paid for overtime.
Our generation works our fucking asses off. You take advantage of us all the fucking time. We’re the first generation to be less wealthy than our parentsbecause you guys fucked off with the economic boom of the early 2000s and left us with nothing. By 24-34, we’re only 48% likely to own our own homes compared to your 61%, because of your unsustainable housing market boom. On that note, did I mention that although average wage has rise by 27%, average housing prices have risen by 121%? Yep. My parents bought my house for ~$200,000 in 1990. In 2015, it’s valued at $750,000. Also, you are now making us pay for our university degrees when you got them for free, and not only that, but according to the Governments’ changes in tax law and war on universities in the past year, it will now take us twice as long to pay off our university debts. We’re the first generation of tertiary-educated Australians in history who willstart work already in debt because of our university degrees.
You hate us, but we’re a generation who grew up with war, with terrorism, with fear and conflict and murder and the aftereffects of capitalist bloodshed on our screens every day. We’re watching society fall down around our ears. My International Security professor told us last year that there will be kids entering high school soon who have never seen a year of peace in their lives.
We’re the ones who have been saddled with the mistakes you’ve made. We’re the ones who are holding on to each other despite our differences and telling each other it’s okay to be who we are, whether we’re gay or straight or black or white. Who are trying to save the environment, who are trying to solve your wars and find homes for the asylum seekers you’ve created, who are trying to cure poverty and wage inequality and food distribution, who run your social impact teams, who volunteer, who study courses that are going to change the world, who give back to society, who travel, all the while building our character strengths and portfolios so that we fit into the dumb as fuck capitalist world you made - and all you can say is that we’re lazy?
When your best friend tells you all she had for breakfast Was a packet of Splenda and a Diet Coke, And she tells you that she’ll stop after she loses five more pounds, Do not believe her. Tell her mother. It does not matter how angry your friend gets. The pain of that will always be preferable to the pain Of seeing your best friend in four years Weighing as much as she does now Half-dead in the hospital.
When your father sneaks into your bed in the dead of the night, And he tells you that this is how fathers love their daughters, Do not believe him. Tell your English teacher. She will have read millions of stories of girls like you. There is a one in six chance that she will be a girl like you. There is a five in six chance that she will know what to say to you. There is a six in six chance that she will help you.
When your veins whisper to you in the moonlight And say that there are so many nightmares inside you That could be free If you would just open your arms, Do not believe them. Tell your school’s guidance counselor, No matter how scared you are Because whispers are liars, And opening your arms will only open the passage For more nightmares to climb in.
And when the therapists say that you are better, Totally better, And you don’t need to worry about the sadness again, Do not believe them. Always be cautious, because sadness has a way Of sneaking up on you When you’re not looking. Be careful. Be careful.
