What do you get when you combine a ’90s childhood with military training? The damn best, dopest generation of troops, that’s what. Written by an elder millennial, this is the completely unbiased reasoning behind that statement.
Raised with an abundance of empathetic statements like “get out of the house and don’t return until the streetlights are on” gave future service members eighteen years to prepare for the nuances of military life. What exactly did an eight-year-old do with a 12-hour Saturday? The dopest generation of troops figured it out, and not with GPS, cell phones or viral videos to stream.
Military life aims to sharpen core human skills like navigation, an awareness of terrain, and stamina. ’90’s kids roamed in the back 40, hopped fences, dug foxholes (just for fun) and played the rudimentary version of land navigation-hide and go seek. Yes, the last generation outside became the last generation with an abundance of experience honing this primal skillset. Weekends were for pushing the limits of both physical boundaries, the body, and the mind. Getting lost made you better made you distinctly aware of how important it was to pay attention, because no one was coming to find you until well after dark.
Nicknames were so brutal, you longed for the days where the military would rebrand you into something (hopefully) better. Feelings were completely unacceptable in the ’90’s. The closer you became to a human Terminator, the emotionless badass who knew and did everything right, the better chance you stood at surviving childhood without the need for therapy.
If you’ve ever wondered why your current Staff Sergeant lacks empathy or seemingly takes joy in the majestic poems of correction spewing from his mouth, it’s because that was affection that was displayed. The harsher the nickname, the greater the chance some sort of affection was behind its origination.
’90’s kids firmly believe in coming in first. Competition flows through their veins, and the flashbacks to being pointed at and laughed off the dodgeball courts in gym class ensures they will do everything in their power to crush you and anyone else standing in their way. Participation ribbons did not exist, and even if the rare ones did, it would have been too embarrassing to ever admit they owned any. Trying is failing unless of course, you win.
Not only will they do whatever it takes to win, they will wait…patiently plotting, as dial-up internet taught them to. While newer generations become disgusted with anything less than instantaneous results or satisfaction, service members with ’90’s childhoods are the last to be taught patience through the agonizing experiences of rewinding videotapes, gluing their fingers together (for fun), or waiting until the show aired on prime time. The enemy can hide, but they are trained to wait.
Generation Y (elder millennials) was raised in a deeply patriotic time. G.I. Joe’s appeal hadn’t faded within the early years of this crop, instilling the message that military service was something to not just admire, but aspire to. Their grandparents remembered the Depression and World War II. Their parents lived through or served in Vietnam or the Gulf War. At every turn, the sacrifice of serving was remembered and valued.
If a history of roaming free or honing early marksmanship skills via NERF or BB guns hadn’t tipped the scales in Uncle Sam’s favor, witnessing 9/11 through their innocent eyes did. American flags flew abundantly in yards, while many awaited the day they became eligible to enlist, to do their part and keep their hometowns safe.
’90’s culture still reigns king with sitcoms and music, which has yet to go out of style. This space in time produced a “fly” crop of service members if you ask us.