We are a generation that grew up with the Internet. This is the truth.
Every milestone—from my elementary school graduation where I was asked to take photos for the album half the time, to my most recent graduation ceremony, which I celebrated in the comfort of my own home and immortalized with the one-click screenshot feature during the online ceremony—seems like technology is growing with me, its own achievements transcending my own. In fact, perhaps at this point, we’ve experienced everything online—from school orientations to workshops to everything you can imagine—during COVID-19.
I can still vividly remember how, as a kid barely above my parents’ knees, I looked up illustrated websites on the clunky PC my grandparents owned, and, as a little older, how I used my nearly indestructible The Nokia phone typed some small things. Stories as texts, and how I keep them all in my outbox like a treasure trove of poorly kept secrets. Every time our class was sent to the computer lab for class, I would watch the music video for “You Belong With Me.” I may have even learned how to write from the e-books I smuggled out of Wattpad Stories, as much as from the guidance of my English teacher. While I struggled with puberty and hormones, researchers from around the world developed front-facing cameras, GPS, and talking kitchen appliances.
If we’re being honest, maybe my childhood was all about the internet in a way. Maybe you feel the same way. This is inevitable; look at this, all our interests are connected through a seemingly infinite source. There’s always someone across the screen who understands, no matter how bizarre the pastime. Of course, we never have a choice, and Pandora’s box is indeed tempting. We never had to worry too much about relationships.
We are a generation that grew up with the Internet. In this busy age, we have learned how to cut our losses and value efficiency first. Everything is made and designed for convenience. No matter what field you work in, the question we answer in our daily lives is: “How can we do it better? Faster? Easier to digest?”
Discussions and lectures in our school are condensed into the most essential points in beautiful PowerPoints. Our propositions are succinctly packaged and presented as color-coded infographics. Even things that are entertaining and help us relax have been shortened from 30 minutes for an episode to 15 seconds for TikTok to maximize productivity. There is no doubt that we are a generation that needs a rush, and who can blame us? There’s a lot going on — as evidenced by the fact that the phones in our hands are already loading with several notifications 15 minutes after they’re turned off during the school day during a global pandemic.
We are a generation that grew up with the Internet. In a way, it’s easier. We are our parents’ hopes and dreams. We are all they never had. Our vision for the future is both bright and bleak.
Never has a generation known so much; the news screams yet another thing you can’t change, no matter how much you want to. Look online, what do you see? Your feed will provide you with people your own age doing everything you want to do and more, while looking absolutely gorgeous in that outfit you could never pull off even if you tried. Have you heard of this? Did you do it? Have you been here? Do you own it? Perhaps even scarier: What’s changed about what you’re doing now? What will you continue to do?
You turn off your phone, but the ringing in your ears keeps ringing – have you done enough? Is what you do actually enough?
We are a generation that grew up with the Internet. Never before have children taken on the world so easily without being given advice on how to bear its weight. Breathe, little warrior. The internet has a funny way of making you feel heard, but still feel alone. you are not. There are a lot of people struggling with the same thing. You are doing your best, and you deserve to be recognized for that.
We are a generation that grew up with the Internet. We are doing our best to properly navigate what is given to us, just like others before us. We ask for your patience and support in this endeavor.
Trisha Marie Matabalan, 21, is from Bohol. She is a third-year literature student at De La Salle University. When she’s not writing, she’s happiest taking a nap or grabbing another salmon and tuna rice ball at 7/11.