cynics, dreamers, and ice cream trucks

the last free generation- a love letter to growing up gen X

In a 2017 article for Vanity Fair, Rich Cohen wrote:

“Irony and a keen sense of dread are what make Generation X the last great hope, with its belief that, even if you could tell other people what to say and what not to say, even if you could tell them how to live, even if you could enforce those rules through social pressure and public shaming, why would you want to? I mean, it's just so uncool.”

While I’m not convinced that my generation is the 'last great hope,' especially given the current state of affairs both in the U.S. and abroad, I do resonate with the belief that it’s not my place to dictate how others should live their lives.

Don’t get me wrong—I have my thoughts and opinions. For instance, if we all endeavored to lead with kindness and compassion and sought the common threads that bind us—rather than succumb to the rhetoric and hate perpetuated by white supremacy and our current president and administration—perhaps the world would be a vastly different place. As for public shaming, in my book, shaming of any kind is cruel and inflicts harm.

That said, I am grateful that most of my Gen X friends are generally kind, abhor shaming, and tend to view life through a particular lens. When engaging in conversations about the state of the world, yes—there is often an undercurrent of existential dread. But more often than not, there is also a level of objectivity and critical thinking—an acknowledgment that women should have the right to decide what to do with their bodies, that all human beings deserve equal protection and rights under the Constitution, and that meaningful dialogue around contentious topics—politics, climate change, human rights, social justice—matters. Unlike the dehumanizing and “othering” that has become commonplace in our culture whenever there is a difference of opinion, I find that most people in my generation—at least those I surround myself with—look for truth and seek to understand rather than vilify.

Maybe I’m biased and generalizing here. However, I can’t help but think that those of us in my generation who lean socially liberal, value personal freedoms, inclusivity, and progressive social policies, have an ability to engage in meaningful discourse because we came of age in a world before social media ruled the roost and artificial general intelligence was even a forethought.

When I reflect on my upbringing, it does feel like my generation was, in fact, the last to grow up in a world where kids not only preferred but were also encouraged to play outside. A time when primary school fostered curiosity and creative arts, when families gathered around the dinner table every night without the distraction of devices—but also converged around the television as a family unit. We are also a generation raised during a time of significant social, political, economic, and technological change, brought up with the belief that if you worked hard, you could achieve the American Dream.

I think it’s important to note, as a quintessential Gen Xer—one who is also slightly cynical and employs a healthy dose of sarcasm—I’ve never subscribed to the idea of the American Dream or believed that any one generation has it easier or harder than another. However, when I think about the time in which my fellow Gen Xers and I were raised, I feel fortunate. We grew up in an era when being outdoors, running through sprinklers on a hot summer day, chasing the ice cream truck down the street for a Bomb Pop, playing kick the can, and hopping on bikes in search of adventure provided a sense of autonomy and independence. That kind of freedom was not only formative but also instilled in me a deep curiosity and wonder—about people, about the world, about the paradox and complexity of it all.

I’m not sure what the future holds for us. Day by day, the political upheaval and the dismantling of our government are cause for deep concern. At times, it feels like the very foundation we were raised to believe in is fracturing before our eyes, and I often find myself pondering the resistance required to navigate such turmoil. Yet, amid the chaos and uncertainty, I return to what I know: the simple, enduring truths of being alive. All I can do is stay present, make meaning of my days, spend them with the people I love, be creative, and do my part—however small—to contribute to my community and a world that values curiosity, critical thinking, and human connection. Perhaps that, in itself, is an act of resistance.

© Alana Foy 2025