A couple weeks ago, I went to the bank with my mother, the goal being that I would never again have to go to the bank with my mother. We went intending to remove her name from my checking and savings accounts. Without saying so directly, the teller implied that unless I was getting married, there was no reason to mess with things. I don’t have a man to will my money to, so I might as well leave it to my parents in the event of some tragedy.
Her point was valid. After all, I don’t want the $8 in my checking account to get all tied up in red tape, right? Still, I left the bank feeling a bit stuck in the middle. I’m certainly not a child, but the bank teller (of all people) wouldn’t extend the “independent adult” moniker just yet.
Currently, the most-emailed story on The New York Times is titled, “What Is It About 20-Somethings?” The story mentions our society’s “scattershot approach” to marking adulthood. We’re old enough to choose our leaders and give our lives at 18, but not responsible enough to decide what we ingest until 21. There’s a full 10-year gap between the moment I could legally drive a vehicle alone and the day (not yet here) when I can rent a car as an “adult.”
The story focuses on the research of Psychologist Jeffery Jensen Arnett, who suggests that the 20s be re-branded as their own distinct developmental stage, “emerging adulthood,” because we clearly don’t have our shit together like all those grown-ups with houses and jobs and whatnot. The story is really thought-provoking, even if I don’t agree with many of the primary assumptions being made. If you’re in your 20s (ahem, most of you) I’m really curious about your thoughts on this.
For example, the author lists several activities such as traveling, competing for low-paying community service opportunities, staying single, and continuing education, then suggests that these amount to “forestalling the beginning of adult life.” This is based on the traditional sociological definition of adulthood, which according to this article is marked by five “milestones”: completing school, leaving home, becoming financially independent, marrying and having a child.
The steady pursuit of these milestones is far less uniform than it was a generation ago, the author concedes. “It implies a lockstep march toward adulthood that is rare these days. Kids don’t shuffle along in unison on the road to maturity.” So far, so good. But then, this: “They slouch toward adulthood at an uneven, highly individual pace.” Later, it is suggested that 20-somethings haven’t “braced themselves” for “the trappings of adulthood.”
I don’t know what it looks like, but I am not “forestalling the beginning of adult life” by traveling, serving in AmeriCorps, or pursuing higher education. I am not slouching toward my adult life. This is my adult life, and all of the choices I have made were not made because I am running away from the inevitable reality of a mortgage payment.
I think Arnett’s study of adults in their 20s has a lot to offer society, but I have to disagree with the idea of rebranding our 20s as some kind of pseudo-adulthood. Perhaps it is adulthood that needs to be redefined to reflect modern realities.
The tone of the story suggests that adulthood comes when you’ve made all the important choices that will ever be made, and you’ve reached that blissful moment where you just get to live with them. If “adulthood” means the day you wake up and there are no choices to be made, only motions to go through, I hope I never get there.
