Millennials in My Neck of the Woods

The short lived TV series Buckwild's stereotypical
rural young people.

My facebook page is constantly flooded with articles about millennials, that ubiquitous generation I was born into, just barely. About the people we call “young people.” Some of these articles are witty and humorous, most cater to our elders seeking to understand us and to our churches seeking to woo us. The picture that these articles paint is pretty uniform. Millennials are technologically savvy, they love tattoos, they are social justice minded, they are skeptical of religion, they are hip, they like indie music—and the list goes on. From the pictures and the articles and the interviews, we are led to believe that millennials are a very uniform generation and that most of them are white, middle class, college educated, and urban. In other words, they are hipsters.

These are the millennials we like to talk about. No offence to my hipster or my urban friends—all amazing people I am honored to know—but  they are not the only millennials. Statistics are vague because of our age, but maybe 30%, maybe 40% of millennials are getting college degrees. The rest are trying to get a job at Burger King. Now, I’m a first generation college student, and a lot of us are struggling to get jobs too. And, lest we forget,with high rates of immigration into this country, 30% of millennials are young people of color.

I can’t speak for all young people—and I am occasionally annoyed when I am asked to do so in settings that are majority over the age 50. But I can say something about the young people I know and meet here in rural and small town America. The kids whose parents could afford to send them off to a fancy college have left, yes. But the young people (20-30) who remain comprise roughly 20% of the population (another 25% are are under 20).

A lot of young people here do not have stable housing. They live with their parents, they live with their boyfriend’s parents, or they crash with friends. Or they live on the flats, in crumbling apartment buildings with three or four kids in tow. They, like their urban and middle class counterparts, tend to be unmarried. They also tend to have several kids and many have broken homes.

They work at Wal Mart and fast food joints and hair salons and feed stores. Or they work odd jobs, gardening or housecleaning or picking mushrooms. If they are lucky, they found a decent job fishing in Alaska over the summer or fracking in North Dakota for a year or two, traveling more than they are home. If they are unlucky, they camp out in the woods or stay in a shelter. A few may go to community college, searching for a bit better luck and an elusive but persistent dream.

They sometimes struggle with drug or alcohol addiction, often as a way to cope with the stress of their lives or to self-medicate for mental illness. I find some of them under the bridges, hopelessly addicted to heroin or meth, powerless but desperate to stop.   

They are not particularly cool or hip, even if they can navigate technology ok. They wear jeans and tshirts and dirty boots.They might listen to indie music and they likely have tattoos, but are just as likely to listen to country and drink cheep bear.

They are also not particularly attracted to church, having felt the searing judgment heaped on them in one church or another, but they are by and large religious people who believe in God and some higher power at work for good. For many of them, AA or NA may be their church. In this community, they are white, they are poor and they are working class, they are Latino and immigrant.

They are the products of a culture run wild with greed, leaving little for future generations, for their generation; the products of a culture that will not give them a break but is happy to label them wild, unruly, or lazy.

I should say, because I speak about my friends, my co-workers, my neighbors, that they are good and brave and courageous people. They are the young woman who raises her little girl with love and devotion, even if she can barely afford to put gas in the car and is in constant conflict with her ex. They are the young guy with a bright smile who has overcome an addiction and insists on being there for his kids. They are the kids who go dancing and laughing with music in their souls even when times are tough. They are the sisters who raise their several broods of kids together and scrape together enough for them to all have Halloween costumes.

These millennials may not make the high profile articles and may not drink coffee and smoke hookah at high end pubs, but they too live and breathe on this earth. Next time you read about millennials and American young people, think of us.