When I think back to my childhood, it’s clear that my musical tastes were worlds apart from my daughter’s. She was swept away by Dan Hill’s soulful ballads (you can’t help but recall, “Sometimes when we touch / The honesty’s too much / And I have to close my eyes aaaaand cry…”) while she endlessly played her “If” vinyl—was it a 45 or an 8-track?—by Bread. Back then, she found The Beatles too intense. Yes, THE BEATLES. Contrast that with my own experience at ages 12 and 13, where my mother and I didn’t share the same musical conversations about U2’s War or discuss guitar solos with excitement.
Fast-forward to 2014, and parents everywhere find themselves in this surreal dialogue with their elementary-aged kids:
- Us: Could you add “Shake It Off” to our Sunday playlist on Spotify?
- Them: Sure, just after I finish this level.
- Us: Great, but it’s time to turn off the iPad now.
- Them: But I’m not done!
- Us: Turn it off.
- Them: I’m almost at my stripey next to my wrapped candy!
- Us (increasingly frantic): What level are you on? Are you messing with my level 127?! HAND IT BACK!
Yes, my mother plays Candy Crush. I play it. My 8 and 5-year-olds are in on the fun too. And have you tried Tiny Thief? It’s an absolute blast! Phineas & Ferb is brilliant, and I’d totally hang out with those Ninjago characters. I can’t deny it—I enjoy Taylor Swift, and I know all the songs from Frozen and Matilda by heart, willingly, not because I was coerced by a singing snowman. My kids even have a little dance routine for Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball,” and they enjoy artists like Beck, Arcade Fire, Dolly Parton, Bob Dylan, Radiohead, and Beyoncé… the list goes on.
I understand the sentiment that 8 is the new 15, and 40 is the new 13. It’s pretty great that my children and I share so many interests, but it raises a question: Are parents becoming younger, or are our children simply maturing faster?
Sometimes, as I download a new app, I worry that we adults are engaged in a futile struggle to deny our own mortality and fading relevance. My peers and I have become like the proverbial elderly woman in a miniskirt, clutching her iPhone for dear life, trying to outshine the younger generation. This trend may lead to raising kids who speak like Stewie from Family Guy and wear skinny jeans over diapers.
If parents and kids are reading the same post-apocalyptic vampire novels and sharing playlists, what will our tweens and teens have left to keep private? What will they possess that reflects their individual lives? We might be robbing them of the typical teenage rebellion: it’s a rite of passage to disdain your parents for being clueless. How can they do that if we’re all enjoying a Katy Perry concert together?
It feels like a chaotic world where the order of things has been upended. What will our children recount in therapy years down the line? That Mom was better at Minecraft? That Dad had embarrassing opinions about music?
I can’t say for certain what this means for our kids, but I do know what it signifies for me. By the time my mom reached my age, she had the freedom to indulge in whatever music she loved without judgment. She could wear comfy sweatpants everywhere, having earned that right. Society had deemed her mature and responsible, no longer a target for the latest trends.
Now, there’s pressure to be not just good parents but also “cool” ones. I have to strike the balance of appearing stylish without trying too hard. Comfort takes a backseat to looking trendy, even if I secretly yearn for the forgiving nature of Eileen Fisher. I must avoid liking certain songs that are deemed inappropriate, while navigating a world where even surgeons use Emojis.
The stakes are high. In past decades, the adult who played video games and watched cartoons was the oddball uncle; now, that’s just Dad. Children and parents have blended into a hybrid, with kids being witty and reminding us to update our devices, while we juggle responsibilities with a playful nod to youth culture. Are we 40-somethings insecure about our place in society, or is it just an exhilarating time to be young?
You might think I’ve created this situation myself. My kids shouldn’t be on the iPad, and I shouldn’t care about my jeans or music taste. But I enjoy feeling connected and sharing interests with them. Today’s pop culture is sharper and funnier than ever, and it’s more accessible. Why would I want to miss out on that?
And besides, if I’m on level 400 while they’re stuck on 296, they have no right to act all superior. If they do, I can always teach them the fine points of explosive candy and send them to their rooms.
In summary, as parents and children increasingly share interests, the traditional lines of generation and rebellion blur, leading to an interesting dynamic where each learns from the other.