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Recently there have been some articles and videos floating around about millennials. They read something like this:

Millennials were told they could do or be anything they wanted to.

 

Millenials were given every opportunity to succeed.

 

Millennials were told they were good at things when maybe they were just above average.

 

Millennials’ were met with a different reality in the workforce and didn’t do as well as expected and suffer from low self-esteem and impatience.

Before you cheer in frustrated judgement, I want to tell you a story.

Liz Nead, circa 1989- Generation X

Andrew Nead, circa 2012- Millennial

I belong to Generation X. I was told I could do anything I put my mind to (exact words), and my loving parents would have moved heaven and earth to get me to reach my potential. My I.Q. was tested (pretty high if such things mattered to success) and the parental units campaigned for every “accelerated-track” program I wasn’t automatically chosen for. I regularly performed below my potential and they pushed me and my teachers to do better and perform better.

And in the end, as a young and mature adult, I did far less than was intentioned and even less than my parents actually did. I divorced. I lost a house in foreclosure and lost my credit. I gambled with my chances and saved little. I lived up to my potential with degrees that got me nothing (Political Science) and large houses that kept me house poor. I enjoyed expensive dinners and paid the taxes to keep my children in the right schools, all the while cannibalizing every investment I ever made. I made sure the outside looked amazing while the behind-the-scenes was burdened with expectations and anxiety and a general feeling I couldn’t keep it up.

I don’t blame my parents at all. The note on the fridge that read, “If you think you can, you can,” was a reality for them. They both grew up without, my mother getting her first pair of shoes at 16 and my father sleeping on a mat on a dirt floor. They dusted off their beginnings and began a life in the United States, both intentioning to give me every advantage they thought they didn’t have, vacuuming up every bit of education and promise they could as they built their life here. Their parents had done the same, gathering the little money they had to get the two the life they desired.

The depression parents raised the baby boomers. A bird in the hand, they said and the boomers disagreed. Instead, my parents brought back the great adventure, taking the small bit they were given, if at all, and parlaying it from a small ranch in the suburbs to a spacious home and a Delta 88. The depression parents weren’t sure it was a good idea. Why gamble with what you have? Why strive for more. Be grateful, the grandparents of millenials said. And our rockstar parents returned volley with the resurgence of the American Dream.

By pretty much any standard my parents are successful. They are still married and in love. They both have impeccable reputations, multiple degrees. They travelled all over the world. And while wealth is a relative measurement, they certainly have the resources to live the life they have chosen.

It’s not that I was a spoiled brat. They were right. I can be and do anything I imagine. It’s part of living in this country, even as it weakens under the burden of racism and classism and every other dumb ism that separates people into sections of judgement. With the opportnities I was given, I can still move mountains and amass great wealth if that is what I desire. They weren’t wrong.

There was a communication problem between the baby boomers and the millenials. We only need to reverse the old adage, Do as I say, not as I do. We should have done as they did, not as they said.

And once I did that, once I followed in their footsteps, once I heard what they didn’t tell me but so clearly told me, once I added the legacy of their actions to their investment of positive thoughts and actions, everything changed. Here’s what they told us with their actions:

• Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches bought with cash taste better than steaks purchased with credit.

My parents’ first home together was a studio apartment in the “heart” of Detroit. That means the toilet is somewhere very near the living room and the kitchen. They at peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a drastic departure from their curry rich tastes, squirreling every penny away for a better life. They spent their money on education and opportunity, cutting corners on the things you normally find in a registry like bedding or new plates. They didn’t define themselves by what they, but what they would do.

What I didn’t know, until I “had to resort” to living off of the cash I made, is the confidence that comes in pursuit of the dream. I began my adult life by saddling myself with debt, thinking I “deserved” the house, the car and the vacations. After building my business, I get it. I deserve the chance to pursue my dream, to spend less than I have, to live without anxiety.

• Happiness is not the goal. It’s just a byproduct of good decision making.

A few days ago, my daughter looked sad and I suddenly felt anxious. My other daughter has faced some tough setbacks and it feels like it’s happening to me. It’s hard not to feel like I’m failing when they aren’t feeling joy. But when I think about my mom and dad, I don’t remember them frenetically seeking pleasure. It’s sometimes hard to distinguish between the days and weeks and months of my childhood because they were so similar. Days at work while I was at school. Breakfast and dinner at the same time each day. Stops at the grocery store, church and the library in the between. Pot roast and company on a Saturday or Sunday evening.

They were living the dream, a better life than their parents, but it wasn’t exciting. In fact it was boring. While they strived to keep me happy, the considered happiness an outcome. Do it right and you’ll feel right. Pay your bills on time. Don’t gossip about other people. Get home to be with your family. Avoid any sense of impropriety. Take calculated risks. A successful life is not a pursuit. It’s an existence, a result of good choices. The better the choices, the more likely happiness will show up.

It’s hard to choose boring, when social media demands excitement. But it’s not real, and choosing peace of the pursuit of happiness is our greatest right.

• Morality is your greatest asset.

Back then, those baby boomers had “reputations.” People would talk about each other at the club, the Rotary, the grocery store. Improprieties like bad business deals, affairs, misconduct were frowned on. We called them judgmental, and maybe they were, but in the era of the handshake deals, “names” were investments no one could afford to lose.

I found my morality later in life. Early on I kept my parents busy, buying their wayward daughter out of trouble. Parking tickets, speeding tickets, boy craziness, missing assignments. They were my greatest advocates, self-appointed ambassadors for my increasingly tarnished reputation. Who cares, I thought. Really, who cares.

What can I say? They were right once again. It’s so much harder to rebuild broken trust than it is to retain it. Who knew that everything would eventually be built on the algorithms that judge your behavior. Credit scores, interest points, job opportunities. Keeping your nose clean pays off.

• Fame and fortune are outcomes, not goals. Respect, both for self and others, is the holy grail.

I remember when my dad met Billy Graham. He took me to the Rotary meeting and introduced me to this famous Christian preacher. My dad always invested in suits and looked every inch the man Dr. Graham was, although the southern gentleman towered of my father. He was confident and secure, telling Billy he was a preacher as well, with a much smaller congregation of course. He wasn’t star struck. He wasn’t impressed, merely showing his respect to the most famous preacher on the planet with a smile and firm handshake.

I am Generation X, growing up in the era of the first wave of MTV fame. I imagined dating Michael Jackson and hanging out with Madonna. I appropriated their style and mannerisms. I would be as successful and famous as they were. And, as my childhood heroes pass away, one by one, with weak hearts afflicted by years of drug abuse, it turns out dad was right. We are all the same, putting one pant leg on at a time, as they say. As I watch our president act out on “the Twitter” every day, I know there is no amount of money, no level of global exposure that can compensate or cover up the signs of a gentleman or gentlewoman. Respect and respectful living is the ultimate sign of success.

The Baby Boomers didn’t lie, when they told us we could be or do anything we imagined. They were right. And so are we.

They weren’t filling us with creme puff dreams when they invested in our potential. We are every bit as smart and capable as any generation before or since. Parents of Generation X were heady with their own success and collectively thought, “what could we have done if these barriers weren’t in the way? Let’s give it to our children.” Thanks mom and dad. What gems you are.

And thank you even more for demonstrating how to succeed. How to suck it up and climb the ladder. That there is no shame is starting small. That it’s not so bad to suffer through a few fights and stay married. That that working and striving and educating is still the only way to lift ourselves higher than the generation before.

Now back to those articles. What will our millennial children write about us, the Generation X parents? It’s not going to be what we said. No, it will be about what we did. What did we show them? A Disneyland childhood that could only be provided by maxed out credit cards? Marriages that are as fragile as their dating relationships? A grand misunderstanding between true accomplishments and fame?

Millenials, don’t hang your heads. We screwed up too. The world changed right out from under us, changing the value of education, the path to wealth, the rules of social engagement. Truth? We were growing up while we were raising you. We thought we could imitate our parents and tell you how to successfully make it down the yellow brick road to success but unlike our parents, we didn’t “show you” the way, the way our baby boomer parents did for us.

Gen X bosses, peers and parents, now it’s our turn. Gently pry that phone of your daughter’s hand. Turn off the constant stream of Netflix or Hulu. Continue to live your life knowing this: the next generation is watching. 

What will they learn?