While doctors recommend that we keep our screen time under two hours per day, teenagers spend an astonishing average of seven hours per day on screens, not including schoolwork. The COVID-19 pandemic has only exacerbated this issue, causing the majority of classes, meetings, and other social interactions to be online. In fact, as a college student with five classes on Zoom, along with my readings and homework being online, it seems impossible to keep my screen time under seven hours a day.
It’s mind-numbing in the best and worst way possible. Why don’t I simply delete these apps off of my phone, and pick up a book, or go for a walk? I ask myself this often, despite knowing the answer. Scrolling takes no skill, commitment, or concentration. I can lay in bed and scroll, or avoid the awkwardness of waiting in line by scrolling, or scroll when I’m too tired to think. And as someone who struggles with mental health, I already know it doesn’t help at all. I know that in the long run, using social media so often is only causing me to feel worse about myself, while taking hours upon hours of time away that could’ve been spent on activities that would make me significantly happier than scrolling. But, if you’ve ever felt depressed, you’ll understand that when you have little to no motivation to do anything, scrolling on social media can be the one thing that provides you at least a whiff of happiness. Or, if you’re feeling anxious, it can be used to escape from whatever situation you’re in, whether that be an uncomfortable family dinner, or attempting to write the essay that’s due in a few hours.
When I think of some of the happiest moments in my life, they’re the ones on the days that I forget to check my phone. Days that I spent outside with friends, or when I picked up a book if I was bored rather than my phone. I often find myself wishing I was a teenager in the eighties—minus the homophobia, racism, and sexism.
Of course, it’s nuanced. I like the principle of many of these networking sites. On Twitter, I follow people that enjoy the same artists and shows as I do. On Instagram, I like to see pictures of my friends being cute and happy. Occasionally I find myself using a funny filter on Snapchat or sharing pictures of my pets. These things aren’t bad at all. Social media has given me great memes. It’s given me dozens of pictures of my crushes. It’s given me videos that make me cry with laughter; and a way to explore my more particular interests; and awareness and education surrounding various social issues; and inclusive spaces; and several friends that I wouldn’t have met otherwise. It’s brought me a lot of things I am grateful for, but I can’t help but wonder what I would be like without it.
Selfies, Starbucks, makeup, One Direction, airheadedness, pink, vanity, Taylor Swift, cheesy romance novels, VSCO, drama, and crop tops. All of the ingredients for your basic teenage girl.
When a teenage girl expresses enthusiasm for something, it’s viewed as unbearable. The things we consume are designated as being lesser—they become immature, unintelligent, a waste of time, cringy, and worthless. A teenage girl making a TikTok dance or ordering a pumpkin spice latte often will garner a scoff or eye roll, because these actions make her “basic.” One example of this trend is how teenage girls “fangirling” has been deemed as hysterical and pitiful, as if we can’t show our love for incredibly talented artists like Ariana Grande, or even simply enjoy a catchy band, without it becoming embarrassing.
Think of your average teenage boy. Going off stereotypes, you may imagine a young man who obsessively plays video games, wears basketball shorts, eats a lot of junk food, is passionate about his sports team, and is a bit goofy. But none of these activities that are common to the teenage boy are seen as disdainful. A grown man acting like a teenage boy is completely accepted, while a woman cannot do the same—a thirty-year-old woman liking Taylor Swift makes her immature, because the things that teenage girls like are falsely correlated with immaturity, unlike teenage boys. The superhero movies that boys stereotypically like are seen as valid entertainment, whereas books like Twilight which are popular amongst teenage girls have become low-quality and distasteful.
Because of this, it’s not surprising that many teenage girls adopt the phrase “I’m not like other girls” in order to distinguish themselves from the “basic” teenage girl, and to escape the ridicule and assumptions that come with that. This statement implies that “other girls” are somehow bad, and that by distancing herself from her counterparts through pursuing “different” clothing, music, and hobbies, a teenage girl may achieve this status of “not like the other girls.” This simultaneously degrades other girls, while also ironically crushing this girl into a box. She must now refuse to enjoy popular songs, participate in the latest trends, or do anything that could risk her being seen as too “girly,” such as going shopping. By rejecting these “feminine” interests, she can perhaps even become “one of the boys,” playing ball and video games with them—because our society has created false dichotomies where it is apparently impossible to do both. This girl can even go so far as to tolerate, encourage, and take part in the sexist “jokes” these boys will make, developing a “pick-me” mentality in order to make herself appear acceptable in their eyes. I believe that, to some extent, nearly every teenage girl has or will think this way, because our society encourages internalized misogyny in women, especially young women. We are taught to compete with other girls, to tear them down rather than help each other thrive, and separating ourselves from other women makes us more valuable. But in reality, this thought process harms everyone.
Teenage girls can’t win. There are an endless number of standards we are told to fit into, such as being thin enough, feminine enough, confident enough so we’re not pitiful but not too confident or we’re conceited. If we wear makeup and post selfies, we’re slutty and egotistic, but if we refuse to shave, we’re disgusting. Watching Mean Girls makes us mindless, but reading a comic book makes us fake geeks. Being politically active makes us brainwashed feminists and social justice warriors, but if we’re not, we don’t know enough and don’t care about others. And by simply doing average, common, or popular things amongst our friends, finding solidarity in the things that bring us joy, we become “basic,” and are looked down upon for our happiness. In a think piece about hatred around teenage girls, examining the many derogatory labels aimed at them such as “Basic Bitch,” “Tumblr Girls,” “Instagram Thots,” and “VSCO Girls,” Jonti Ridley astutely noted, “Suddenly, straying from what was ‘basic’ was allegedly a new tier of basic. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t…It’s a catch-22: following trends makes you an idiot, but going against them makes you a try-hard.”
I’m reminded of one of my best friends, Olivia. A while ago, I mentioned her and introduced her to some other friends, and I remember one describing her as “basic.” It was an offhand comment, a passing thought, yet I’ve thought a lot about the weight it holds. That person diminished Olivia’s personality to “basic,” a word I’ve never heard used without a negative connotation when describing a teenage girl. On a superficial level level: Olivia is popular, she loves fashion, she posts lots of adorable, filtered pictures on Instagram and Snapchat, and I know she enjoys Starbucks and shopping. Maybe this makes her “basic.” But this wouldn’t be a true representation of her at all—it’s exactly what I said, superficial. If you got to know Olivia, you would realize that she is incredibly kind, fun to be around, and someone that you can laugh and be authentic with. She’s hardworking, intelligent, talented, and determined. She’s resilient and able to handle any situation the universe chucks at her. She’ll give you mature and thoughtful advice. She’s equally as amazing to be around on a chill movie night as she is at a party, or when doing homework. Fashionable, confident, fun, stunning, and tenacious. That’s Olivia. And yes, she enjoys a lot of things that many other teenage girls do, like wearing cute outfits and going out with friends, and I don’t understand why this makes her—or any girl as amazing as her—“basic,” like she’s not complex, beautiful, and wonderful. So I believe that when a person describes a teenage girl as “basic,” they are really saying something about themselves. They are admitting that they consider others only on a superficial level, failing to acknowledge the true complexity of other human beings.
Then there’s my friend Teresa, who is perhaps a bit too “girly.” She’s obsessed with Taylor Swift (so much so that she wrote a four-thousand-word paper on her) and the color pink, both of which are commonly deemed “girlish.” Someone might look at this and assume she’s some level of immature, which is entirely untrue. The fact that she finds a certain color pretty says nothing about her maturity, and I think that her ability to analyze Taylor Swift’s emotionally captivating lyrics about love and heartbreak makes her much more perceptive than boys that just listen to, for example, Drake. It’s odd that her particular interests are correlated with childlike mannerisms, because Teresa is mature, affable, and intelligent. Yet an eighteen year old boy who carries a blue backpack and wears blue clothing and listens to Travis Scott won’t be questioned for his maturity.
When we are constantly told, through micro-aggressions and countless eyerolls, that we are lesser, we begin to believe it. There’s a reason teenage girls experience an alarmingly high rate of depression, anxiety, and eating disorders. There’s a reason many young women give up on their dreams that were “too ambitious” such as being politicians, CEOs, and scientists. There’s a reason millions of women hate themselves and other women. Everything we do—the way we giggle, the bands we listen to, the clothes we wear, the books we read, and the food we eat—becomes a target of a tremendous amount of criticism and ridicule. So maybe it’s time to stop and question if the thing you dislike is because of the thing itself, or the people who like it most. Ask if it’s necessary to denounce a girl for something that brings her pleasure. Because society’s attitude towards young women eventually instills dangerous ideas into us. We begin to believe, without realizing it, that our opinions don’t matter, and the things we enjoy are stupid, and that no matter what we do, it will not be the right thing.
So yes, I’m like other girls. Because other girls are strong, funny, confident, beautiful, determined, courageous, and kind. Because other girls are nerds, fashionistas, artists, scientists, and leaders. Because it’s exhausting to have to constantly prove that I’m “different,” while being careful to not go so far to come off as weird. I’m a complex human being, like everyone else, and you can’t fit me into a box. You can try, but you’ll never be right. So go ahead, call me basic, or whatever other label you think best strips my personality down to a few trivial traits. And while I doubted writing this, feeling as if I was being overly-dramatic or making a big deal out of nothing, I realized the irony—because I shouldn’t have to prove any of this to you. This is how I feel, and I know millions of other women have felt similarly, and I am observant enough and educated enough to understand the misogynistic roots in the way our society treats teenage girls. But I shouldn’t have to say that. I have nothing to prove you.
I will be discussing mental health with mentions of eating disorders and suicide in this post, so please don’t read if you think it will potentially be triggering. If you think that you or someone else needs help, please call or text a crisis intervention hotline.
There’s a mental health crisis amongst teenagers, and it’s not talked about enough. About one in five teenagers suffers from at least one mental health disorder, such as anxiety and depression—and for reasons complicated enough for another blog post entirely, in recent years, these numbers have been rising.
Luckily, our generation is beginning to realize the importance of having conversations about mental health. Although there are still many problems with treatment for mental disorders and how we perceive mental health as a society, it has improved significantly in the past century. It’s now understood (at least, by some) that it’s completely normal to struggle with mental health, especially as a teenager. Significant life changes and adjustments—such as college, the transition to adulthood, and exploring relationships—and your natural hormone imbalance as an adolescent combined with stressors such as genetic predispositions, family issues, societal expectations, and the pressure of planning your future, it’s no wonder that so many teenagers experience problems with their mental health.
Unfortunately, many teenagers don’t even realize there is a problem—or they don’t believe that they need help, or they want help but don’t know how to find it. For example, thousands of teenage girls suffer from disordered eating, many without knowing it or seeking treatment, and disordered habits such as skipping meals and obsessing over weight are appallingly normalized. So even if someone recognizes that they have an unhealthy relationship with food, which is already difficult to do, it is challenging to find the resources to recover.
This is why it’s essential to have these discussions. Creating an environment in which we can express our emotions and be heard and supported is a must. By educating yourself on the signs, effects, and ways to treat various mental disorders, you can ensure that if you or someone you know is struggling, you recognize it and know what to do. It should be normal to tell others how we feel, and to have access to help from family, friends, school counselors, and medical professionals, but it’s not, which is why it’s important to reach out to others and have conversations about mental health.
Here’s the takeaway: You are not alone. Whatever you are feeling, there are others who feel the same way. If, for any reason, you think you may need help, reach out. It takes bravery to be vulnerable, and this world is better when we open up to each other. Be kind to others, because you never know what someone is going through—and don’t forget to be kind to yourself as well.
In the United States, at the age of sixteen, you can consent and drive a car. At the age of eighteen, you can vote, join the military, get married, adopt a child, change your name, quit school, buy a lottery ticket, get piercings and tattoos, buy pornography, work in a bar and serve drinks, be called for jury duty, open a bank account, and own a home. Yet you’ll still have to wait three more years before being able to legally drink or buy alcohol.
The legal drinking age in the United States is one of the highest amongst developed countries. In many places, the minimum age is eighteen, with several exceptions—such as sixteen-year-olds being allowed to drink, but not purchase, alcohol.
Still, surveys show that by eighteen, about sixty percent of people in the United States have had at least one drink, and that binge drinking is common amongst youth ages twelve to twenty. A common progressive argument in favor of lowering the drinking age is that because most teenagers will drink, despite the illicitness of it, it should be legalized so that they are encouraged to do so in a safer environment (for example, at home, rather than sneaking out with people they barely know; and they will be more likely to seek help if someone is in danger of alcohol poisoning; additionally, if it is less stigmatized, more conversations can be had about how to drink responsibly). Unsurprisingly, the same approach is taken by many democrats when considering the legality of things like marijuana and abortions, but interestingly, this is also a very similar reason many republicans believe guns shouldn’t be banned (or even restricted) in America—so the idea of legalizing something so that it can be done “more safely” isn’t a bipartisan view.
So, what are your thoughts? Should the drinking age be lowered in the United States, or is it good as is?
Capturing the problems teenagers, namely high schoolers, face is difficult, and there are thousands of television shows and movies alone that have attempted to do so. Popular representations of teen drama range from Mean Girls, a comedy exploring popularity, to 13 Reasons Why, a drama packing in numerous heavy topics teenagers unfortunately face such as suicide and rape. One show, though, has undoubtedly created one of the most beautiful, entertaining, complex—and yes—accurate portrayals of high school there is.
Euphoria, an American teen drama with so far only one season, follows a group of high school students through their encounters with love, partying, drugs, sex, abuse, mental illness, and identity.
I’ll keep this relatively spoiler-free to allow you the true joy of experiencing Euphoria. This show has received a considerable amount of criticism, primarily for being unrealistic and glorifying drugs (amongst other things). The issue with this view, however, is that it treats Euphoria as some sort of documentary with the purpose to denounce the dangerous activities teenagers find themselves in.
The true goal of Euphoria is to depict what the creator calls an “emotional reality.” Like any drama, Euphoria is exaggerated, but it certainly includes problems that are not uncommon amongst teenagers, and does so through a fantastical lens that creates emotions many teenagers can relate to. It’s structured to relate to the mindset of a teenager dealing with these struggles. One example of this is romanization of drugs through scenes of the characters experiencing literal (drug-induced) euphoria, because this is an accurate representation of the feeling teenagers chase through drugs. However, if you walk away from this show believing drugs are cool, you probably need to rewatch, because there’s also a multitude of scenes revealing the crueler side of drug use, such as Zendaya’s award-winning performance as her character, Rue, desperately begged her dealer (and friend) for a fix.
This approach is what differentiates Euphoria from other teen dramas. Shows like 13 Reasons Why fail because they toss in every traumatic experience a teenager could possibly face, without any relief from the depression to show the magical moments of adolescence. On the opposite end of the spectrum, movies like Mean Girls keep such a lighthearted tone that they avoid addressing any real issue without comedy. Euphoria finds a balance between the two, creating an emotional reality with true complexity and depth within its characters and their issues.
It’s no surprise that Euphoria has been widely praised by both teenagers and critics alike. It’s a phenomenal representation of teen melodrama, providing pure entertainment, visual and auditory appeals, character depth and development, platonic and romantic relationship sagacity, and complex social commentary that makes it undoubtedly one of the best teen dramas to date.
Although I may have already known that the universe has no center, I’ve definitely suffered from an unhealthy dosage of adolescent egocentrism before. Empathy and decision-making skills tend to come with age—which is why teenagers are prone to acting without regard for the consequences, especially in terms of considering how it will impact others.
It’s no surprise that, given the circumstances, teenagers don’t behave like “perfect” citizens during a pandemic. However, I’ve personally been shocked at the complete lack of responsibility demonstrated by my peers in face of the COVID-19 global pandemic. Here in State College, you don’t have to walk far to run into a large (seven to twenty) group of teenagers, unmasked and close together, usually heading to a party. I chose Penn State partially due to the strong school spirit, but I’m not feeling much pride for my fellow students now.
In light of the alarming number of coronavirus cases, and the fear of being sent home far earlier than anticipated, I’ve been asking myself why students can’t simply “mask up.” It would be hypocritical for me to demand that everyone should follow social distancing regulations with no exceptions, but there are certain things I wouldn’t do—such as go to a party full of strangers—even if there were no rules banning it. Living on campus, I often feel as if my peers are wearing masks only to avoid punishment—not because they care about others.
Now, more than ever, I’ve been constantly recalling the concept of “adolescent egocentrism.” It becomes obvious when one of my peers says, “I’m young and healthy,” forgetting that they could spread the virus to someone who is not, and would have to deal with far worse than a cough. By no means do I believe that I am smarter than, more mature than, or more responsible than the majority of teenagers. Yet it’s clear to me, when I see someone removing their mask in a crowded indoor space, amongst other poor choices, that teenagers simply think less (or not at all) before acting—although I’ve met many adults who share the same trait.
