Q&A: The pressure to be exceptional, with Rainesford Stauffer

"There is no single blueprint to a 'best life,' and one of the downfalls of how we frame young adulthood is we pretend there is."

This week’s newsletter features a Q&A with Rainesford Stauffer, a journalist who writes about young adulthood today. You’ve probably seen her work in this newsletter before — I link to her stories often because she’s so good at capturing the moment we live in; and she’s been particularly exceptional in the past year at chronicling how the pandemic has impacted young adults.

Her new book An Ordinary Age is out on May 4, and it’s all about the pressures that young adults face today to have an “extraordinary” life — whether that’s by having a “dream job,” moving away from their hometowns to show they’ve made it, showing off how cool their lives are on social media, or traveling and collecting “experiences.” I loved reading her book and found it so relatable — and I think everyone who has experienced young adulthood in America in the 2000s will relate on some level to the pressures Rainesford explores in her book.

In the Q&A, we talked about why there is so much pressure on young adults today, how to deal with it, why social media isn’t all bad, why we think moving away from home shows you’ve “made it,” and more. Enjoy!

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I've loved reading your book — you touch on so many parts of young adulthood that are so real for so many of us, like the pressures to have a "dream job," to have cool "experiences," too nice away from home to show you've made it. First, what led you to write this book?

I’m so glad it resonated! So, I started thinking about how my young adulthood contrasted starkly with the idealized version we’re marketed — grandiose adventures, exploring, moving away. I was lonely, and assumed I was the only one who felt that way. I was lost, and thought that meant I was failing. In reality, turns out, these are really common sensations during this time of life, they just aren’t the ones that get amplified! There is no single blueprint to a “best life,” and one of the downfalls of how we frame young adulthood is we pretend there is.

Then, while freelancing, no matter what conversation a source and I were having, there was this undertone of “whatever I’m doing isn’t enough; whoever I am isn’t good enough.” It happened at the same time I was seeing the “millennials aren’t growing up!” discourse unfold online, and it seemed to lack nuance as far as...structural reasons growing up looks different now.

We’re telling young people to live their “best lives” while they can, but we aren’t giving them resources to do so. We’re telling them to stop complaining and “just live,” while reminding them that they always could’ve worked harder, done more, and been better. This doesn’t just apply to young adults, of course. The conversations I had with people about how that manifested in their lives— and how much they wished we were talking about this—is what compelled me to write the book. 

I like that you noted this isn't just specific to millennials; it's more about an age, a time of life that isn't specific to one generation, because people always want to put these types of conversations into a generational framework. Why do you think young adults today are feeling so much more pressure to have extraordinary lives, what has caused that?

I think the generational framing lets systems of power and governmental failure off the hook. When people can point fingers at each other, and say, well, my generation had it worse, it takes the responsibility off people in power to create real, systemic change that would benefit everyone. That’s not to say there haven’t been fundamental shifts — people are meeting traditional sociological markers of adulthood later--but acting like that’s happening randomly is inaccurate.  

Someone I interview in the book framed it well: Young adults today have never really known a world that wasn’t in crisis, from 9/11, to active shooter drills being a routine part of the school day, climate change, watching parents lose jobs in ongoing recessions or losing jobs themselves, costs of living and education and housing increasing. They’ve seen lack of investment in their families, their neighborhoods, their schools.

Do you think being a  young adult is harder today than it was for our parents’ generations? How did it become that way?

Based on the research and interviews I’ve done, the short answer is: We expect young people to emerge into adulthood, confident and capable, while giving them less resources to do so. It’s capitalism, it’s a society that’s systemically racist, it’s a culture that glorifies a certain type of life that’s not attainable for most people — but because of hyper-individualism, people get told that it is. In terms of how it became that way, we know a social safety net never actually existed for everyone...but it definitely doesn’t now. 

But I think there’s a personal, emotional side too. Young people are experiencing depression and anxiety at higher rates than previous generations. I’m always baffled when things like perfectionism or loneliness or feeling you don’t fit — that you’re too much or not enough for everyone and everything in your life — are spun as superficial worries. It’s like expectations around us are increasing and we’re supposed to to silo that off and not feel inadequate — while constantly being reminded that other generations did it all (in different circumstances), that someone we know is doing it all (thanks, Instagram), and that if we worked harder or were smarter or prettier or better, it’d be easier. Even if you logically know that isn’t true, it’s challenging to navigate, and I think we’d all likely feel better if we were more open about it.

I’m not quite a “young adult” anymore, but in my teens and twenties I did deeply believe in so many of the tropes you discuss in the book. I especially internalized the idea that I had to move away from home to show I'd "made it." Why do you think so many young adults have bought into this idea? 

I totally bought into this idea, too — and was just having a conversation with my college-senior sister and her friend discussing the same thing. There’s a persistent myth that this is the time is for exploring and adventure, and that’s associated with going “somewhere else.” I’m thinking of one conversation in the book with a twenty-something who called me from her childhood bedroom, where she described physically moving being a signal that life was moving forward in some way. That really stuck with me, because in America, especially, there’s this sense that being upwardly mobile — moving forward in your life — means literally moving. We act like moving away for fresh start after fresh start — without family or community — is the bat signal for solid development and independence. 

For some people, that may be. But wanting community, a routine, to feel safe and comfortable, isn’t a failure or leaving the party of exploration early. We want signals that we’re moving on and becoming the extraordinary people we’re destined to be, and moving is one way of signaling that. So it becomes easy to think “well, when I move here, I’ll be more extroverted, more adventurous, make more friends, etc.” The fixation on fresh starts is heavy during the period of life where you’re told now is the time to make the most of everything. I think young adults have heard one version — go adventure! You better move out or you’re a slacker! — so often, it’s overshadowed the other half of the messaging: it’s okay to want roots and community, settling in doesn’t mean “settling,” and moving on your own timetable is truly just fine.

You also have a chapter about the role of social media in young people's lives. Many books and critics tend to lament that social media is ruining our young people, they're too attached to their screens! You had a much more nuanced take which I appreciated. What do you think are some of the positives of social media for young people? 

All credit to the people I interviewed on that! Their perspectives were so interesting. The positives I heard about are rooted in community. People described seeing themselves or versions of their identities represented, friends they’d reconnected with, outlets for learning, places to ask for help, and spaces to bring their authentic selves that maybe wasn’t possible in their “real life.” People spoke so powerfully about getting to see themselves represented: How it gave them space to challenge the beauty and life standards — which historically portray an ideal of white and class privilege, how they found peers, how they created spaces for like-minded people. 

One of the experts in that chapter notes that caring what others think about us— you know, that’s always the common social media advice, “stop caring what others think!” — is actually normal. That felt like a positive relief in a way, too.

How do young people who feel all this societal pressure to be"extraordinary" deal with it? How can they come to terms with accepting an ordinary life, and realizing they can be happy that way?

Oh, this is such a great question. I was worried the takeaway wouldn’t be concrete enough — it’s not a “5 steps to embracing your ordinary life!” book, because the reality is more nuanced. We need systemic changes to the way we live, work, what we value, and who we value. 

I think it’s a process. What we can do is start being gentle with ourselves and trying to ask, where we can: What do I need that I’m not getting? What matters to me, versus what I’m told is supposed to? Does my worth and identity really sit in my job title, GPA, or accomplishments—and if so, why? What we’ve been told will make us happy or safe often doesn’t. It’s worth looking twice at where we find comfort, ease, and a sense of self. I understand this sounds twee, but I think when we start really unpacking those questions, it’s remarkable how intertwined our perceptions of ourselves are with things that exist entirely beyond us — standards we didn’t set, paths we didn’t choose, things we chase that we may not even want. 

Instead, I think of it less as accepting an ordinary life, and more a renegotiation of values — figuring out what a fulfilled life feels like to you, and where you derive your meaning. Capitalism really doesn’t want us to do that; the more I read, the more I understand that us being fulfilled and satisfied and okay is, in a lot of ways, the opposite of what current systems want to have happen. 

There are small things that have helped me: Putting lines between my work and my identity, even if work does take up a lot of time. Finding little things that serve no purpose but brighten my day, like baking something that only turns out well half the time. Letting myself open up to people, rather than feeling I need to present “having it together”— in turn, this always leads to learning something. There’s inherently privilege within this, which I hope the book acknowledges up front, too. That’s why the concrete solution has to be more about policy changes than changes to personal behavior, but I hope us speaking more about how these pressures impact us helps, at least in terms of people knowing they aren’t alone in it.

What's the biggest thing you want young readers to take away from reading your book?

Young adulthood has changed, from a structural, cultural, and economic standpoint—it’s not that you’re “behind.”

You’re enough as is. Not a dream job later, not a better GPA or cooler Instagram feed or bigger circle of friends or more confidence later. Right now. You are not failing or not making the most of your life because you crave rest, security, and happiness. You matter — separate of whatever you accomplish, wherever you go. I feel like young people have a lot of examples — many of them good — of how they can better themselves and their lives. I’m unsure we need another Instagram quote picture telling us to tune out what others think, or another guide on achieving goals. It’s like a hamster wheel of self-improvement that’s supposed to hand us self-worth. Instead, I’d like this to be a reminder to exhale, and that you’re doing better than you think. 

Lastly: what's one thing you've consumed recently (read, watched, whatever!) that you'd recommend??

So much good stuff — if I named the work of every writer whose work I devour, we’d be here forever. Some books I’ve adored lately: Ashley Ford’s memoir, Somebody’s Daughter, out 6/1, Mari Andrew’s My Inner Sky, Masuma Ahuja’s Girlhood (also a great gift for girls), and Chloe Angyal’s Turning Pointe, out 5/4. 

I’m reading lots of newsletters lately. In addition to this one, among the ones I find myself coming back to are Anne Helen Petersen’s Culture Study, Mary Retta’s close but not quite, Taylor Trudon’s Late Bloomer, Katie Hawkins-Gaar’s My Sweet Dumb Brain, and Girlhood* from Masuma Ahuja.

If you’re interested in more of Rainesford’s work, you can pre-order An Ordinary Age on Bookshop or Amazon (or support your local indie bookstore!).

Good things to read

There are no more five-year plans, Forge/Medium. By Rainesford Stauffer herself!

There’s a name for the blah you’re feeling: it’s called languishing, New York Times.

They believe in ambitious women. But they also see the costs, New York Times.

There’s no such thing as a “low skill worker,” The Atlantic.

Welcome to the YOLO economy, New York Times.

How Pfizer became the status vax, Slate. And related: Moderna mafia? Pfizer pham? Vaccine factions are forming online, Vox.

The pandemic made me realize how essential my routines are, New York Times.

Burnt out: is the exhausting cult of productivity finally over? The Guardian.

Blah blah blah: the lack of small talk is breaking our brains, The Walrus.

The dark side of the houseplant boom, The Atlantic.

Good things to cook

This week I’ve got a recipe of my own for you! If you eat lamb, I made these crispy spiced lamb patties this week and they were delightful. Here’s the recipe:

12 oz ground lamb
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
1 tsp kosher salt
2 cloves garlic, minced

Mix it together in a bowl and shape into 8 patties - larger than a meatball but smaller than a burger, kind of like a slider size. Fry in a pan with olive oil, preferably cast iron to get a nice crispy sear on the outside. I recommend serving with chopped tomatoes and cucumbers, crumbled feta, tzatziki, and harissa!

A recommendation

If you enjoy this newsletter, I think you’ll also love Caitlin Dewey’s newsletter Links I Would Gchat You If We Were Friends. It’s one of my favorite newsletters, and I consistently open it every single week because Caitlin has great taste and always points me to several interesting things to read that I haven’t found elsewhere. Highly recommend!

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