Born in 1981, am I part of Generation X or Generation Y?

It’s confusing to be caught between two different identities, two different generations – but that’s exactly where I find myself, betwixt and between, wondering where exactly I fit within the grander scheme of things, which generational media label I should apply to myself.

It was at a publishing conference one morning recently that all-of-a-sudden I realised I fell into this vague category, caught in the murky grey area at the end of “Generation X” (Gen X) and the beginning of “Generation Y” (Gen Y).

The conference was interesting and thought-provoking, but as has become the norm with this kind of industry event over recent years, it largely attempted to probe the issue of where the industry finds itself within the reality of the digital age, and how we can meet the challenges which that has brought about. One segment was called “Meet The Millennials”, where the discussion moderator (a pleasant woman in her 40s) sat down with three members of the Millennial demographic, all aged in their early 20s, who are also labelled as Gen Y.

She enquired curiously as to their reading habits, the ubiquitous role played by a multitude of social media platforms in their lives, and whether they ever bother to pick up an old-fashioned hard copy of a newspaper or magazine.

With the tone of the questions not-so-subtly suggesting that this cohort has a collective attention span slightly greater than that of a newborn goldfish, I found myself feeling that all this was largely patronising to the interviewees.

After all, they were college graduate types who had obviously passed (probably excelled in) their fair share of difficult exams, and at the burgeoning stages of their professional lives, succeeded in finding gainful employment.

In defence of the moderator, the patronising effect had its roots more in the chosen format and thrust of the discussion than in her own disposition towards these brave young souls bearing all in front of roughly 100 strangers.

But I also found this somewhat judgemental towards the audience – made up of media professionals aged largely in the 30-50 bracket. Were we all so old and out-of-touch that we needed this segment to educate us on the lives of these people (a key target audience for media outlets and advertisers alike)? It’s not as if they are a whole different breed, are they?

As a 34-year-old (closer to 35, if truth be told) , yes, I’m more than 10 years their senior, but without trying too hard to be down with the kids, I didn’t feel they were so radically different my own age group. Their experiences and struggles must surely be of a broadly similar nature to my own, I thought. My peers are present on social media too, we even read article on our smartphones and watch YouTube videos from a variety of different devices!

But the whole thing got me thinking a little deeper about my place in the grander scheme of things – born in 1981, did I belong to Gen X or to Gen Y? So with my outdated digital skills, I took to the Internet to investigate. American historians Neil Howe and William Strauss defined Gen X in broad terms as those born in the two decades between 1961 and 1981. However, the US Department of Defence set the parameters at 1965 to 1977. That said, it seems to be largely accepted that Gen X spans birthdates from the early 60s through to the early 80s.

Gen Y is loosely viewed as the demographic born just after that – from the early 80s up to around the turn of the millennium. But, according to consumer research firm Iconoclast, the first Millennials were born in 1978. A TIME magazine article placed Millennials at 1980-2000 birthdates.

So, where does that leave us kids of the 1980-1983 vintage? On the borderline, caught on the fringes of both identities, where nobody really likes to be.

In Ireland, we were largely labelled as “The Pope’s Children”, born in the years just after John Paul II’s momentous visit to the country in the autumn of 1979. That label was something of a badge of honour, given the prevailing fondness for that charismatic pontiff who charmed a nation within a mere three days on our shores. Incidentally, birth rates in Ireland peaked in June 1980, exactly nine months after his visit, but let’s leave that subject alone for now.

So, given the generally accepted definitions, our cohort could fall into either category. We are either the last of the Gen X-ers, the young pups of that generation, or the oldest, least tech-savvy geriatrics of the Gen Y bracket. Like many issues of this nature, it largely boils down to identity.

If you still, now in your mid 30s, want to see yourself as a young product of the digital age, complete with all the latest gadgets and cultural references, then it seems you might just about get away with it. You can sign up for your Gen Y pass, get yourself all over Instagram and Snapchat, maybe even get that job with an exciting web-based startup, and party on.

Just make sure to have your story straight when attempting to engage in easy banter with younger, more properly certified members of Gen Y – the type who were interviewed at that conference. You better know your “lols” from your “wtfs” or you’re cover will be blown and it’ll be a case of “c u l8r m8!”

However – as seems to be a natural human impulse – most of seek to fall in with the older crowd, when given the choice. It’s undoubtedly difficult to be fully accepted alongside those born between the early to mid to 70s.

These are the hardcore Gen X-ers – the awkward teenagers who found that Morrissey spoke their emotional language in the 80s, who probably saw Top Gun in the cinema, who felt empowered and inspired when they first heard those booming opening salvos of The Stone Roses’ I Wanna Be Adored at the tail end of that decade, and who were then sweetly (not to mention sweatily) placed to engage in the explosion of club culture during the 90s. They were your cool, condescending older brother or sister, who belonged to a crowd and a time that you couldn’t quite penetrate.

Still, you wanted to see yourself as part of that cohort, and probably still do. There is something cool about having been a child of the 80s and a teen of the 90s. We remember those cheesy pop tunes and power ballads of the 80s with fondness, and still listen to them given any available excuse.

Oasis, along with their Britpop rivals, would later provide much of the soundtrack to our teenage years. In-between times the death of Kurt Cobain shocked millions in our ranks who had idolized him.

We remember those hot never-ending summers of the 80s, when money was tight, we only had two TV channels but times actually were a bit simpler, in a good way. We lived on a strict diet of Home And Away, Neighbours and Friends for years, while Baywatch played a vital role in the transition from childhood to adolescence. Blind Date, fronted by the playful Cilla Black, provided the Saturday evening entertainment of our childhood.

We’re old enough to remember watching the scenes as the Berlin Wall was torn down on that world-changing day in 1989, and at least grasp the idea that it held significance in global terms.

Going back to technology, mobile phones only became commonplace for us when we were about 18-20, in college. Gen Y-ers might not grasp the difference that made to modern life.

Prior to that, if you had an arrangement to meet someone outside a certain city-centre shop at 3 o’clock, then you had to be there at the right time and at the right place, or the kibosh was put firmly on your plans.

There was not the luxury of a quick call two minutes beforehand to say that your bus was late and you’d “probably be there by about 10 past”. Smartphones, and all the convenience of constant Internet access and a host of useful apps at your fingertips, were obviously unheard of.

The lack of a mobile phone also meant another more daunting hazard to navigate, frighteningly familiar to Gen X-ers and those who went before. If you were lucky enough to get someone’s phone number at a disco (or wherever else you could acquire a set of digits), that was a landline number to someone’s family home. No direct phone or messaging contact with the object of your desires. Instead, that landline put you in contact with a “Mrs Murphy” or “Mr O’Brien” type person, the gatekeeper to their home and their daughter’s heart.

“Louise is not here right now… Who will I say is calling?”

“Eeh… It doesn’t matter, I’ll call back. Thanks.”

Dread. Oh the young people of today have no idea what it is to really struggle!

Growing up in my own house, my father still had a high pile of dusty old records by The Beatles, The Eagles, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, Bread and Pink Floyd, among quite a few others.

He hadn’t gone out to buy them in some hipster vintage store, he bought them in a regular record shop at the time of their release. Some of the price tags were still on them. They had cost about one pound each. Of course, when you’re a kid, all this stuff seemed like ancient history, but in reality it was not so long before. Those dusty records provided a direct connection in some way.

We ourselves grew up on cassette tapes (and Walkmans, now considered a cool vintage item), then CDs in the 90s, before the age of the iPod changed all this, and the entire music industry, forever.

Adidas tracksuits and trainers with three stripes were commonplace then, and were not considered “retro”.

Sport is often another major reference point for your youth. We watched at home with fervent excitement (and ultimate dejection) as Ireland marched to the last eight of the World Cup in 1990, as the country went a little bit crazy for some time.

If you grew up in England, Gazza's tears were surely your equivalent. Boris Becker, Stefan Edberg and Steffi Graf were the main protagonists at Wimbledon (before the eras of Sampras and Federer). Diego Maradona, not seen regularly on our TV screens like the superstars of today, was widely revered as the greatest footballer on earth.

Liverpool were the dominant force in English football. I'd hazard a guess that most Gen Y-ers don't remember a time before Man United under the guidance of Alex Ferguson were kings. They probably don't remember the top flight before its rebranding as the Premier League under Sky.

They wouldn’t remember the day of April 15th, 1989, and how that awful tragedy at Hillsborough proved a watershed moment, forcing widespread and necessary changes in the game.

And as kids we were not unaccustomed to some good old black-and-movies or the joys of a Western matinee (to be fair, that is still used by stations as filler programming!) Frank Sinatra, who some Millennials probably haven't even heard of, was still a big deal when we were growing up. Prince and Madonna were in their prime. Michael Jackson was the most famous person on earth.

Looking back, with tinted glasses of course, it all seems a simpler, magical time. Of course, not all of it was necessarily great or better than today. But if these cultural references and subjects were on the application form for Gen X membership, which I think they ought to be, then I’d surely make the cut. And if you are also now “of a certain age”, within that vague early 80s corridor of uncertainty, then you would too.