The Age Segregation of Gen Z
Like most of my generation, I grew up in the public school system, moving from elementary school to middle school and eventually graduating from high school. I have two siblings, two and four years younger than me, and most of my friends came from families that looked the same. I would regularly go to other friends' homes, where I might catch a glimpse of a younger sister or an older brother passing through, but that was usually the extent of it. At school, students from younger grades were always nearby, yet social boundaries were clearly drawn: to be buddies with a kid in Grade 6 while you were in Grade 8 would be “uncool.”
I would see the occasional toddler. However most babies were usually hidden by a blanket curtain while sleeping in their strollers—mysterious, unknown, and off-limits.
This was all very normal—the way things were, social lives segregated by age-based grades.
However, at the end of high school, after moving to a more traditional church, my social atmosphere changed dramatically: there were babies everywhere. I went from thinking I came from a larger family with two siblings and five cousins to wondering what happened to the other half that was supposed to be there. Families with five kids, seven kids, thirteen kids…. Now that was normal! My new best friend had six brothers and three sisters. I distinctly remember the first time I saw the row of ten toothbrushes neatly lined up in their upstairs bathroom.
At first, I was out of my element. I had always loved children, but I had no real experience interacting with babies or toddlers. I didn’t know how to hold a newborn, how to play with a five-year-old, or what to expect from a two-year-old. For me, the shift was comparable to moving to a different country, with the major difference being that here, there was no age-based segregation. I now had close friendships and relationships with people significantly younger than me. If I ended up at a friend's house, I was interacting with the whole family, not just the one kid from my grade.
As I became more immersed in the world of large families, and the older and younger friendships that come with them, I started to wonder what the cost of this age segregation was. We are constantly being told of the importance of cultural or racial diversity. What if diversity of age is just as important?
Consider your average Canadian kid: living in the modern world, going to public school, and part of a typical family of four. Almost all of their close relationships will be with other people their own age, with the exception of teachers and parents. Many in Gen Z struggle to relate to anyone outside their own age group. This narrowness of perspective can make it hard to envision life beyond the next two or three years. It’s not just knowing how to hold a baby (although that is important); it’s about learning patience, how to care for those who are less capable, and understanding how to lead and follow. This list goes on. We are missing a huge body of knowledge that shapes not just social habits, but cognitive and emotional development
Think of unplanned pregnancies. No wonder high school girls are terrified of having a baby—many of them have never even cared for one. Pregnancy, babies, and childbirth are so unfamiliar to most young women that their only knowledge often comes from dramatic hospital scenes in movies. If you haven’t seen babies and parenthood up close, they become something abstract and frightening instead of tangible and understandable. When a generation rarely encounters babies, it is not surprising that it fails to see unborn life as real or relational. Many in Gen Z has been raised without the daily experiences that cultivate attachment to the youngest and most vulnerable among us. A culture that keeps babies out of sight should not be shocked when it becomes easy to keep them out of mind too.
It’s quite sad when you realize how little Gen Z knows about babies. Our birthrate is declining; many teen pregnancies end in abortion. But what if young people spent more time with little kids? What if they held more babies and saw them for who they are, beyond the diapers, sleepless nights, and expenses? What if parenthood didn’t feel like a distant, terrifying concept but a real, understandable part of life?
For me, spending time with children has been a joy. Nothing makes me happier than when a mother at church hands me her little one and asks if I can watch her for a second. I was surprised by how much I had missed out on by only being around peers my own age.
If young people spent more time around babies, they would see just how sweet, loving, and deeply human they are. As for me, I think it would make them a little more pro-life too.