Friends, the decade is almost over. The 2010s, although sharing the 2000s’ trend of having a not-so-original name (unless “The Teens” gains popularity), will have a new load of ideas, memes, etc. Inventions we could never dream of will be invented. People we never thought could die, will die. And most people, sensing a change of the tens’ place when writing out next year’s date, if nothing else, will want to look back and remember what the last 10 years brought us and have taken away from us.
It is debatable if it is beneficial to compare this decade to the 1960s, ‘80s, etc. in influence. Many people will wonder who “The Beatles” of the 2000s were, how the new genres emerged in the late ‘70s (punk, metal, hip-hop, new wave, post-punk, experimental rock, etc.) to the last few of our years. (I apologize for speaking in solely musical terms, it’s what I know). Our experience with most of the 20th century is secondhand, so we get the cream, and the crud, of what these decades are about.
But that’s not what I want to talk about. I’m not going to do the math about everyone I send this to, but we are all at an age where we feel nostalgic about our own pasts. And since we are ending this decade, I was specifically thinking of the ‘90s, being the last decade, but, this is not really what I really want to talk about. Because really, I really don’t remember too much about the ‘90s. I cried the day Kurt Cobain died, for one reason or another. The exact reason I don’t remember. I was about 5 months old at the time. You see, our memories of the ‘90s are more about childhood than the ‘90s. Maybe we’re less at an age where we can remember the last decade as remember our childhood as a distinct experience than our present.
But that’s not what I want to talk about. I’m not saying we all should simply “remember” our pasts. I’m encouraging us to revisit them in purest way possible, in their original state we found them in: without irony.
I’m not talking about the Sesame Street T-shirt you found in Urban Outfitters, or the a-ha poster you stole from your parents to fly with mocking pride. That’s a good way to light-heartedly add fun to your life. But I’m talking about Real Nostalgia. Memorize the Pokérap. Reread your Sendak, your Scarry, your Audrey Wood. But most of all, try to understand what it was like to experience them for the first time.
I hear myself thinking, and wouldn’t be surprised if you too are thinking, “But Nik S. Pearson, the reason I am mocking these childhood activities is because they no longer capture my interest, because /they are stupid/.” And in some ways, you are right. Watching an episode of Bear in The Big Blue House will probably not enthrall you in the same way it used to.
But that’s not what I want to talk about here. What I want to say is, because we know that we were “stupid,” we know what we can do to have lasting memories of our teenage years: be stupid.
I’m not saying you should be reckless. I’m not saying you should do drugs, get pregnant (as a teen), etc. I’m saying we should group together and make a promise to build something we will feel happy about in the future. Maybe this next decade will have no defining features. Maybe we’ll have no anthem, flock to no icon. But we will not be boring.
So, what I’m basically saying is, let’s make those moments. Ask that person to the dance. Form a club based on that TV show. Write a blog! Be “stupid,” but by “stupid,” I mean “passionate,” and by “passionate,” I mean “memorable,” and by “memorable,” I mean worthy of nostalgia. Because we can’t just remember. We will need to experience the past. But since now will soon be our past, what are we waiting for?
PS: Special thanks to Emma Steinkellner for inspiring me to write this.
— Nik Pearson is a sophomore at Dos Pueblos High and a member of Kids Speaking Up, a local group working to educate youth on social, national and political issues and inspire them to write.
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