I am 13.

Officially a teenager.

Technically, I’m 13 years and 8 months.

Not like that matters.

I belong to what is called “Gen Z”.

We’re the kids born between 1995-2013.

We’re the ones ridiculed for our technology

They call us “iGen” “Gen Wii” “Screenagers”

To quote the lovely Maisie Williams:

“They [older people] think you’re a self-obsessed,

Selfie-stick waving generation.

They’ve counted on that.

They’ve kicked your future in the teeth,

And hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

She’s not wrong.

13 is the age where, maybe, 

you finally realize you deserve to be treated 

Like more than the dirt you walk on.

And then,

They have the audacity to say 

“it’s a rebellious phase.”

“They won’t respect their parents.”

“How dare they disrespect their elders!”

“Back in my day, we treated our elders with respect!”

Why should I respect someone who won’t respect me?

Why should I respect someone who brushes me off as self-obsessed? 

Who says that they are better than us?

Who doesn’t listen to what I have to say?

Tells me my thoughts don’t matter

Because I’m younger than them.

It baffles me.

They really think I should respect someone

Who tells me to shut up and sit down.

Not in a million years.

Being 13 is being a part of the generation

Who knows that they could be killed in their own classroom.

By their peer.

By someone they’ve known since they were 5.

By a friend.

Being 13 is entering a classroom for the first time

And thinking

“If someone came through that door with a gun,

What’s the safest way out of the room?”

“Who in here might have a gun in their backpack?”

“If I’m by the window, is it a quick escape if need be,

Or is it an entrance point for an intruder?”

Being 13 is growing up

Being told by that we’ll drown in college debt.

That buying a house is unrealistic.

They’re just too expensive.

I mean, you could buy a house. 

But then you can’t afford to pay for food.

It’s your choice, I guess.

Food or a decent living place?

Can’t have both.

Another thing about being 13.

I see my peers standing for what they believe in.

Remember what the kids from Parkland did after the shooting?

Remember how they refused to be silent?

How they marched for their lives?

How they took to the streets?

Saying,

Asking,

Begging,

For change

Saying “Enough is enough”

“You stand by and watch us slaughtered.

In our own schools.

And you’re okay with that.”

They pushed for change.

Kids like me

Demanding stricter gun laws.

So maybe we won’t get mowed down in those uncomfortable plastic chairs.

Of course, because we are 13,

Because we are kids,

We can’t make a change.

We tried.

We tried so hard.

They didn’t change the laws.

At 13,

I’ve been raised on fantasy.

Heros and heroines teaching me right from wrong.

I grew up with Katniss Everdeen, Harry Potter, Captain America.

I was told we could make a difference,

No matter our age.

People seem surprised we are speaking up.

Why?

They’re the ones who told us to stand for what we believe in.

(But only if we believe the same things as them.)

(We aren’t supposed to stand up against them.)

Because I’m 13,

I’m typing this at home.

It’s midnight.

I need to be up in less than six hours.

My parents tell me I need to go to bed.

“Why?”

I ask.

“You need sleep.”

They reply.

“But I’m not done with my homework.”

I say.

“You still need sleep. Getting your homework done isn’t as important as sleep.”

I look at my parents,

Confused.

What do they mean, 

Basic self care is more important than my grades?

No one has ever told me that.

“Your grades should be the most important thing to you.” 

Is all I’ve ever heard. 

They are. 

I put my grades before my own health.

Because that’s all I know.

That’s all I’ve been taught.

I’ve never heard someone say

“Your happiness and mental health is more important

Than your schooling.”

So why do my parents think I should put myself first?

Isn’t that what they told me to avoid?

That it’s selfish

To put your basic needs before others?

Being 13 is asking your parents to proofread your poem

And your mom thinks it sad

That this is our reality.

But your dad

Looks at you incredulously

And tells you

“You realize you live in the most privileged generation?”

“We didn’t have the internet

When I was young.

We had books.

We didn’t have television,

Or phones, 

Or music we could easily access.”

You’re comparing being scared of being shot in your classroom

To not having internet.

Not exactly a fair comparison.

But I hold my tongue.

“Don’t disrespect your parents”

They say.

Apparently sharing your own opinions is disrespectful.

Don’t worry,

Next time, 

I’ll write what you want to read.

Because 

I know it’s hard to read.

But,

Sometimes?

The truth hurts.