The previous decades were filled with stories of flourishing teens experiencing coming-of-age moments in their respective decades. However, the 2010s are a little different -- they're happening now. Who better to express their changing identity than those experiencing it right now? Two staff writers answer, giving their own take on how the 2010s affect their sense of self, and we must say: it's pretty lit.
Junior Herman Saini
At the beginning of high school, I joined a lot of different clubs to try to figure out who I am: Computer Science, Speech and Debate and Bhangra. Computer science is my passion and the field I hope to pursue in the future, Speech and Debate is a representation of my curiosity and Bhangra is how I embrace my culture.
I think one of the biggest things our generation has faced this decade is expressing ourselves, perhaps because there are so many avenues for expression. Now, people share about themselves all over the internet through mediums such as Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook and other social media platforms.
At the beginning of high school, I joined a lot of different clubs to try to figure out who I am: Computer Science, Speech and Debate and Bhangra. Computer science is my passion and the field I hope to pursue in the future, Speech and Debate is a representation of my curiosity and Bhangra is how I embrace my culture.
I think one of the biggest things our generation has faced this decade is expressing ourselves, perhaps because there are so many avenues for expression. Now, people share about themselves all over the internet through mediums such as Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook and other social media platforms.
Until the end of 8th grade, I remember not having any social media account besides Google+. Even then, I was skeptical with my use of it because my parents didn’t want me wasting my time. I’d find meme pages about basketball or watch gaming videos about FIFA. Yet my parents still caved in and eventually I got an Instagram, then a Snapchat. I was finally able to join the world of social media that the people around me had been a part of for so long. For the first few months I had these apps and accounts, I remember being anxious, afraid of getting caught in the “social media trap,” when you begin to care about what people will think of you and get obsessed over the amount of likes you have. However, I was also scared that people didn’t want to see who I was. Eventually, I thought “Oh, posting a picture is worth a shot. I’m curious to see what will happen.” |
I found a photo that I had taken when traveling over winter break in Switzerland in the town of Zermatt. Following that, I found a song lyric from Kanye West: “Everything I’m not made me everything I am.” After hitting post, I waited to be congratulated or receive some kind of award. Nothing of the sort happened though — I got scattered likes and some of my friends commented on it. Everyone responded to the song lyric saying it didn't make sense, but it was still really fun to read others’ opinions. I realized that it wasn’t as big of a deal that I had thought it was, and by worrying so much I inherently fell into the “trap” because I had blown social media up into something it wasn’t.
I struggled with learning to express myself online because I thought it was unecessary or a waste of time. But after watching the growth of social media, I’ve realized that expression is what makes us unique and human. When I look around at my friends, I see everyone is going through the same conflict. I discovered that expression helps us find who we are and is something we need to figure ourselves out.
Now when I look back at my Instagram feed, I see important landmarks in my life, but I can also see my personality and what’s important to me. I’ve realized that every picture I want to post is a picture I took at a Bhangra show, a picture with my debate team or a funny pose with my friends. Being a second semester junior, I’m approaching the time of applying to colleges, where I’ll have to reflect on myself, and I’ve found that social media is a way for me to be metacognitive about who I am. |
So through watching the world learn to express itself, I’ve learned how to express myself. The rise of social media and understanding of expression is one of the biggest landmarks this decade because now I know who I am: Herman Saini, the Punjabi kid who does Bhangra and loves to debate.
Sophomore Collin Qian
When you hear about someone pulling an all-nighter, you probably think they had too much homework, or maybe they were studying for a test. But for me? I was pulling all-nighters making sure my obsidian fortress wasn’t being raided in Minecraft and increasing my win rate percent in Fortnite. I was lucky to have been born in this decade and to be able to witness the large popularity growth in gaming, such as some landmarks when the simple mobile game “Angry Birds” hit two billion downloads in 2014. My experience in this decade has always been surrounded by gaming, a way to meet new people, relieve stress and express myself.
Most people express themselves in real life or by posting pictures on Instagram, but I was always the type of person who was too scared to express myself in fear of being judged. So instead, I hid behind my computer screen, content with being alone. That way, I could change my appearance whenever I wanted and however I wanted.
At the same time, expressing myself online allowed me to escape real life. Once, on a school break I spent in China, I became so addicted to gaming I needed one of those tables that the injured in hospitals use next to their beds in order to game so that I didn’t have to get out of bed. Yet my wound wasn’t physical — it was fear. The fear of being judged in real life, something that pushed me into the corner of my room, which was exactly where my desktop was placed. I became so obsessed with gaming and expressing myself online that I didn’t feel the need to do it in real life anymore.
I didn’t care how I looked or what I was doing in the real world. At one point, a whole month had passed since I played tennis, a sport I used to play every single day. I didn’t care enough to cut my hair anymore, and it grew longer and longer, four inches, five inches, six inches of hair covering my eyes, the only problem being it blocked me from looking at my screen. All that mattered to me was how many enchantments I could get on my diamond chestplate and how far I could get with the level on my battle pass.
Who was I? I was whatever my avatar was. I could hardly differentiate between Qwallaa (my name in game) and my real self. I took no responsibility for whatever Qwallaa said or did, but did it matter? I was behind a screen. I was the kid who took advantage of the fact that no one knew who I was, but at the same time, I was also the gullible kid who probably would have willingly given my home address and social security number to a stranger to steal my real-life identity.
What did I look like? Well, all I had to do was spend a few extra V-bucks in Fortnite, and I could change my appearance with the click of a button. So I had to choose: should I spend money on a haircut and a new wardrobe? Or visit minecraftskins.com and make myself whatever I wanted to be — and for free too! You could probably guess what I chose, and so I spent hours and hours designing Qwallaa’s appearance, aggressively clicking my mouse, changing the color of the pixels of my three-dimensional avatar, hoping it would turn out original and unique.
How did I speak? Well, whatever came after the “Qwallaa” on the bottom left-hand side of the screen (the chat box) was what I spoke. I would use embarrassing acronyms like ‘osm (awesome),’ ‘omegalul’ and other words that I shortened because I was too focused on the game itself, but also knowing that these same words would never come out of my actual mouth. I spoke as if no one could judge me — they could only judge Qwallaa.
Through gaming, I also met a lot of new friends, and although I rarely speak to many of them anymore, the fact that it was so easy to make new friends (who could’ve been 50-year-old jobless men living in their mother’s basement) was really interesting to me, and looking back, that also affected how I interacted with other people in my real life. To the people I physically interacted with, I took them for granted, thinking that they could easily be replaced by someone or something else, another player, character or duos partner.
But slowly and gradually, I lost interest, and I eventually stopped gaming. I started reconnecting with my real-world friends again, building real-world relationships. I realized that expressing myself behind a computer screen would always be temporary, and there would be some point when I had to grow up and express myself in the real world.
As my siblings were getting closer to college and their future, I was convinced to change as I felt an obligation to follow the same path. I was motivated to put away my desktop, to turn my focus towards my grades and involvement in school, and to even get a quiff and look a bit more ‘presentable.’ Qwallaa left the server, and I’m sorry Microsoft, but he’s not coming back this time.
Although it was hard for me to start replicating the same energy and ‘hype’ I had whenever I was successful behind the computer, I allowed myself to go through with the change, and now I’ve learned how to express myself in person. Although a majority of my experience in the 2010s decade was surrounded by gaming and my time spent in the virtual world, I am really looking forward to expressing myself in the real world in the 2020s, maybe I’ll finally post that photo on Instagram.
When you hear about someone pulling an all-nighter, you probably think they had too much homework, or maybe they were studying for a test. But for me? I was pulling all-nighters making sure my obsidian fortress wasn’t being raided in Minecraft and increasing my win rate percent in Fortnite. I was lucky to have been born in this decade and to be able to witness the large popularity growth in gaming, such as some landmarks when the simple mobile game “Angry Birds” hit two billion downloads in 2014. My experience in this decade has always been surrounded by gaming, a way to meet new people, relieve stress and express myself.
Most people express themselves in real life or by posting pictures on Instagram, but I was always the type of person who was too scared to express myself in fear of being judged. So instead, I hid behind my computer screen, content with being alone. That way, I could change my appearance whenever I wanted and however I wanted.
At the same time, expressing myself online allowed me to escape real life. Once, on a school break I spent in China, I became so addicted to gaming I needed one of those tables that the injured in hospitals use next to their beds in order to game so that I didn’t have to get out of bed. Yet my wound wasn’t physical — it was fear. The fear of being judged in real life, something that pushed me into the corner of my room, which was exactly where my desktop was placed. I became so obsessed with gaming and expressing myself online that I didn’t feel the need to do it in real life anymore.
I didn’t care how I looked or what I was doing in the real world. At one point, a whole month had passed since I played tennis, a sport I used to play every single day. I didn’t care enough to cut my hair anymore, and it grew longer and longer, four inches, five inches, six inches of hair covering my eyes, the only problem being it blocked me from looking at my screen. All that mattered to me was how many enchantments I could get on my diamond chestplate and how far I could get with the level on my battle pass.
Who was I? I was whatever my avatar was. I could hardly differentiate between Qwallaa (my name in game) and my real self. I took no responsibility for whatever Qwallaa said or did, but did it matter? I was behind a screen. I was the kid who took advantage of the fact that no one knew who I was, but at the same time, I was also the gullible kid who probably would have willingly given my home address and social security number to a stranger to steal my real-life identity.
What did I look like? Well, all I had to do was spend a few extra V-bucks in Fortnite, and I could change my appearance with the click of a button. So I had to choose: should I spend money on a haircut and a new wardrobe? Or visit minecraftskins.com and make myself whatever I wanted to be — and for free too! You could probably guess what I chose, and so I spent hours and hours designing Qwallaa’s appearance, aggressively clicking my mouse, changing the color of the pixels of my three-dimensional avatar, hoping it would turn out original and unique.
How did I speak? Well, whatever came after the “Qwallaa” on the bottom left-hand side of the screen (the chat box) was what I spoke. I would use embarrassing acronyms like ‘osm (awesome),’ ‘omegalul’ and other words that I shortened because I was too focused on the game itself, but also knowing that these same words would never come out of my actual mouth. I spoke as if no one could judge me — they could only judge Qwallaa.
Through gaming, I also met a lot of new friends, and although I rarely speak to many of them anymore, the fact that it was so easy to make new friends (who could’ve been 50-year-old jobless men living in their mother’s basement) was really interesting to me, and looking back, that also affected how I interacted with other people in my real life. To the people I physically interacted with, I took them for granted, thinking that they could easily be replaced by someone or something else, another player, character or duos partner.
But slowly and gradually, I lost interest, and I eventually stopped gaming. I started reconnecting with my real-world friends again, building real-world relationships. I realized that expressing myself behind a computer screen would always be temporary, and there would be some point when I had to grow up and express myself in the real world.
As my siblings were getting closer to college and their future, I was convinced to change as I felt an obligation to follow the same path. I was motivated to put away my desktop, to turn my focus towards my grades and involvement in school, and to even get a quiff and look a bit more ‘presentable.’ Qwallaa left the server, and I’m sorry Microsoft, but he’s not coming back this time.
Although it was hard for me to start replicating the same energy and ‘hype’ I had whenever I was successful behind the computer, I allowed myself to go through with the change, and now I’ve learned how to express myself in person. Although a majority of my experience in the 2010s decade was surrounded by gaming and my time spent in the virtual world, I am really looking forward to expressing myself in the real world in the 2020s, maybe I’ll finally post that photo on Instagram.