The following story is going to have the side effect of letting you know how old I am. I’m in my mid-40s, which sounds ancient to people in their 20s (I remember this) and childlike to people in their 60s (whippersnappers!). In truth, I like to avoid the perception of being old because I find the stereotypes of old people in this country really annoying and far from my own or my older friends’ experiences. So just be aware that I’m not about to start posting screeds against Millenials or engaging in any of that generational bullshit. I graduated from high school in 1990. When I started college, the general perception among my peers was that the economy was shit and none of us were going to find work when we graduated. The general perception in society was that we were shit — lazy slackers who didn’t care about anything. This is probably where my disgust with generational theory and judgement comes from by the way. I think we all need to stop shitting on younger people (and older people for that matter, though it would be easier if they hadn’t shit on us — still, let’s stop the cycle). We are all stuck in this mess together and we need all the brain cells we can get if we’re going to get out of it. Young people bring the vital energy and fresh eyes. Older people the perspective and experience. We need both right now. I had a number of high school friends drop out of college because “why should I care about this BS when everything is fucked anyway?” — an attitude that I could honestly sympathize with. But I stuck it out, mainly because I was having lots of fun. It took me six years to get my degree (I did take time off to work and save up tuition money, which ended up being the smartest thing I could have done). But by the time I graduated in 1996 the dotcom boom was in full swing and I was getting recruiting calls from around the country, being flown out for interviews, and generally feeling valuable and in demand. It was heady stuff for a young person with a BA in English and a couple of years of tech writing experience. A dear friend of mine commented recently that the only people she knows who are doing really well are those that lucked into tech careers — and that is a perfect description of me. A combination of luck and privilege (and practical magic). Looking back, I see that I did the right thing even if I did it on accident. I didn’t stop caring, even when everything seemed fucked. Flash forward half a dozen years or so. We have a new baby who never, ever sleeps. My midwife (who had five of her own) gave me the single most powerful piece of advice I’ve ever gotten: everything changes. If it’s hard, hang in there because everything changes. If it’s good, enjoy it because everything changes. She was talking about raising a kid, but this advice applies to… well, everything. Since leaving college I’ve been through the dotcom boom and the dotcom bust and the housing boom and the financial collapse. I’ve had great successes and wins and personal and familial challenges and setbacks. I’ve seen that sleepless baby grow up and become an early college student and it wasn’t a straight shot or an easy road. But I took that early lesson with me and I’ve never stopped caring or doing magic. And I remembered that advice and tried to enjoy the good times and keep going through the bad ones. And I guess that’s what I will keep doing. Things right now seem as fucked as they’ve ever been in my lifetime. I battle every day not to get caught up in the rage and despair. But compared with the lifespan of a country, I really am just a whippersnapper. And compared with the scope of history, I’m just a blip. Things have been worse, and things have been better. The world is awesome, and the world is horrible. And whatever you are experiencing, things will change.* Don’t give up. Don’t stop caring. Set your goals. Do your magic. Kick some ass. If it’s hard, hang in there. If it’s good, enjoy it. Remember that everything. Always. Changes.

* It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

~ Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities