There’s a familiar rhythm echoing through barbershops, church pews, and family group chats: elders shaking their heads at “what’s wrong with these young folks.”
The targets are predictable—music, fashion, language, and social media behavior. But beneath the surface of these critiques lies a deeper, more uncomfortable truth: the moral outrage many of our elders direct at younger generations often ignores a history of their own silence, complicity, and misdirected accountability.
This isn’t a generational war cry. It’s a call for truth-telling.
The selective memory of moral authority
Every generation inherits struggle and passes down both wisdom and wounds. Baby Boomers and their predecessors endured segregation, fought for civil rights, and built institutions that still sustain us. But alongside that legacy, another exists: A culture of silence around harm within our own communities.
When elders critique young people for “disrespecting women,” they are naming a real issue. Misogyny, exploitation, and violence are real and must be confronted. But elders, don’t act like this is something new. Because when you do, what often goes unspoken is how long these issues have existed and how frequently they have been ignored or minimized.
For decades, too many Black girls were told to be quiet about abuse. Too many women were instructed to pray through violence. Too many churches elevated male authority while dismissing women’s pain. As author and activist bell hooks once wrote, “Patriarchy has no gender.” In other words, systems of domination are upheld not just by men, but by whole communities that normalize them.
So, when elders wag fingers today, it rings hollow if there’s no acknowledgment of yesterday’s silence.
Policing women, protecting men
One of the most damaging patterns passed down through generations has been the policing of Black women and girls. From dress codes to dating rules, from church teachings to family expectations, the burden has too often fallen on soul sisters to prevent their own victimization.
Don’t wear that. Don’t go there. Don’t provoke him.
But where was the energy in teaching boys and men: Don’t harm her?
This imbalance didn’t just happen; it was cultivated. Reinforced in homes, echoed in pulpits, and justified through distorted theology. The influence of a Western, patriarchal interpretation of Christianity—far removed from the liberating message of justice and dignity—helped normalize male dominance in ways that contradicted the very spirit of faith.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminded us that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” That includes injustice within our own households and sanctuaries.
The myth of ‘it wasn’t like this before’
There’s a persistent narrative that today’s generation is uniquely lost. But history tells us different.
The behaviors elders criticize—hypersexuality, violence, disrespect—didn’t suddenly appear with Gen Z or Gen AI. They’ve been here. For decades. Often with less visibility and even less accountability. The difference now is exposure. Social media has pulled back the curtain, forcing conversations that were once buried.
What some interpret as decline may actually be revelation.
And here’s the uncomfortable part: young people aren’t just acting out—they’re re-acting. As in, re-acting to inherited trauma, to systemic neglect, to contradictions they see in the adults who raised them, and then re-acting—playing those same destructive roles. As psychologist Joy DeGruy has argued through her work on Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome, unaddressed historical trauma doesn’t disappear—it manifests.
So instead of asking, “What’s wrong with them?” we should be asking, “What happened to us?”
A path forward: truth, accountability, and rebuilding
If self-righteousness won’t save us, what will?
First, honesty. Elders must be willing to acknowledge the full scope of what was passed down—the strengths and the shortcomings. Not to assign blame, but to clear the path for healing.
Second, accountability across generations. Young people must take responsibility for their actions, yes—but within a framework that recognizes context, not just consequence. Correction without compassion breeds rebellion, not transformation.
Third, a re-centering of values rooted in justice, not control. That means teaching boys and men to honor Black women, not just in words, but in action. It means dismantling harmful interpretations of faith and embracing a theology that uplifts the dignity of all people.
Fourth, intergenerational dialogue that goes beyond criticism. Real talk. Conscious conversations. Listening sessions. Spaces where wisdom flows both ways. Because the truth is, we need each other.
And finally, a return to community accountability. Not silence. Not secrecy. But a collective commitment to protect the most vulnerable among us.
The urgency of now
This moment demands more than nostalgia and finger-pointing. It demands courage—the kind that tells the truth even when it implicates us.
We are a people who have survived the unthinkable. But survival alone won’t do. We’re called to build, to restore, to become.
The question is not whether the younger generation will rise. They will. The question is whether the elders will stand beside them, not as judges, but as partners in the unfinished work of liberation. Because the future of Black people won’t be secured by self-righteousness. It will be secured by truth, justice, and our constant pursuit of reaching our highest ground.
