A few weeks ago, the minister’s sermon included talking about our concept of the younger generation(s). When he asked the older members of congregation for examples of how young people rebelled in the 20s, 30s, and 40s, no one answered him. (Why yes. He is indeed an engaging and effective speaker.)
I just sat there. After all, he was not asking me. The irony is I knew the answer. In part because of my formal education, but mostly because I had been raised by older parents.
Dad was a teen in the 1930’s and in his early 20’s in the 1940’s. He talked about what he did that drove his grandmother nuts. Mainly, his choices in clothing and music.
Yes, his music pre-dated rock-n-roll. Yes, his clothes were even before the jeans and leather of the 1950’s. However, it was not what his grandmother knew growing into adulthood herself. In her eyes, he was one of “those kids.”
Her biggest dislike was apparently Big Band and Swing music. He said she used to complain constantly every time he put it on the radio. She was apparently no more tolerant of his musical tastes even after he returned home from serving in the Navy during WII.
His grandmother liked classical music. His mother liked ragtime (and when I knew her what would now be called very E-Z listening). He like Big Bands. My older sister liked rock and folk. My younger sister listened to grunge.
His grandmother wore long dresses when she was a teenager. His mother wore dresses just above her ankles. My dad did not wear dresses. My older sister begged to wear pants instead of her above-the-knee dresses. My younger sister wore jeans and open flannel shirts over t-shirts.
Change is constant. The next generation is not going to be different, like different things, wear different things, and find their own voice. My daughter will no doubt have her own tastes that I will not understand. I just need to try and remember that “this too shall pass.”
I know my father’s grandmother thought the world would collapse under his generation. Today, those members of his generation are often called the “Greatest Generation.”
We have no idea of what the younger generations of today will one day be called.
Oh, you noticed that I left myself out. Well, I was perfect. My parents liked everything I listened to and wore. They were especially impressed with my pleasant attitude and gratefulness:)
