50 Ways to Be an Adult
Eat Your Heart Out, “Success Sequence.”
This summer, Ohio became the latest of several Republican-led states to pass legislation mandating the teaching of what’s known as the “Success Sequence” to public school students. This Sequence posits that a young person will have the most success in adult life if they do four things – graduate school, get a job, marry, and have children – in that very specific order.
And while the Sequence most often makes an appearance in debates on education policy or in the halls of conservative think tanks, its general outline pops up in the media frequently. Here is how the local Fox affiliate in Minneapolis defined adulthood in a recent story about the financial struggles of Gen Z.
These four simple steps to adulthood might make for breezy news stories and give comfort to those who treat life’s complexities like a plague to be vanquished, but I for one can’t abide this antiquated nonsense for three reasons.
First, the proponents of the Sequence seem little concerned about the legislative and economic environments that keep the Sequence out of reach for many. They also seem little concerned about those who follow the steps exactly and wind up bankrupt or on the 10 o’clock news after being murdered by their current or former spouse.
Second, the notion that these four steps automatically “make” you an adult is almost impossible to consider with a straight face. For those who persist in this belief, place a basketball hoop in your driveway and report back in a year if that made you a first round NBA draft pick.
Finally, owning a home, having a good job, being married, or having kids can all be life-affirming experiences. But to boil the entire point of existence and the definition of “success” down to a quantity of things so small you can count them on one hand with a finger to spare? What an insult to the potential that rests in every one of us.
So rather than chanting “school-job-marriage-children” over and over, I came up with fifty characteristics that I believe are markers of adulthood. I could have come up with 100. Crowdsourced, we’d have 1,000 in no time. Because full personhood is a many splendored thing, inherently repellent to any kind of “Sequence.”
You realize that nothing lasts forever.
You understand your emotions and what triggers them.
You understand that getting a partner won’t solve your problems.
You understand that having a child won’t solve your problems.
You understand that buying more from Amazon won’t solve your problems.
You reflect on whether your problems are really problems or just societal noise grating against your natural tendencies.
You’re accepting of your limits.
You acknowledge your mistakes.
You take responsibility for your own spiritual and ethical development.
You tell shame to fuck off daily.
You claim your right to pleasure.
You claim your right to say no.
You claim your right to say yes.
You claim your right to do something “out of character.”
When people show you who they are, you believe them the first time.
You know that just because your parents said it doesn’t mean it’s true.
You forgive your parents for not knowing everything.
You’re okay with the fact that everyone, including you, is fucking weird.
You’re okay with the fact that your personal beliefs are a mess of contradictions.
You’re okay with the fact that what you know is dwarfed 10,000-fold by what you don’t know.
You understand the difference between being born on third and hitting a triple.
You understand the difference between anecdotes, data, and the comments section.
You recognize every situation can teach you something.
You recognize the indispensability of gratitude.
You recognize the indispensability of asking questions.
You stop waiting for someone else to make the first move.
You stop waiting for “someday.”
You stop hiding behind rejection as a reason not to try.
You stop hiding behind other people’s fear as a reason not to try.
You realize how many people say “love” when they really mean “control.”
You realize the futility of control.
You can taste the release that comes with letting go of control.
You recognize the genuinely fleeting nature of human connection.
You recognize the genuinely fleeting nature of being alive.
You recognize that human beings are maddening mysteries that you will never solve.
You recognize that life is unfair in ways beyond our comprehension.
You realize your life need not be constrained by someone else’s stifled imagination.
You recognize your own imagination as indispensable to a good life.
You work to apply your imagination to even the most mundane tasks.
You recognize that, appearances notwithstanding, the person you’re talking to is as scared and confused as you are.
You recognize that emotions and thoughts don’t make you a bad person.
You understand that when curiosity dies, the rest is soon to follow.
You forgive yourself when you unintentionally hurt someone.
You forgive yourself when you know the choice you need to make is going to hurt someone and you do it anyway.
You keep in mind that the small thing you did a year ago that you forgot about may have changed someone’s life.
You know that just because you haven’t seen it done doesn’t mean you can’t do it.
You can emotionally handle not knowing what comes next.
You refuse to be the blank slate upon which someone else writes their hopes and dreams.
You never again have the burden of looking at someone and thinking “they have it all figured out.”
You can hold one of the central tensions of life whereby both everything and nothing matters at the same time.