Valedictorians of the Anti- A Love Letter from Gen Y to Gen Z
Nineteen hundred and ninety-eight. The year, not the cash.
Ok. Weren’t we just two years from the world ending anyhow?
It gave me a secret thrill to hear of our empty coffers. The artist in me already knew besides that failure was the only way out. Proudly Generation “Why?”
America has always sold itself like a potluck dinner—“Bring your culture! Bring your grandma’s recipes! Bring the funky spices we can pretend we invented!”