"Youth Culture: Identity in a Postmodern World" is a collection of essays written by various PH.D's in psychology and analysts of youth culture with their take on, well, youth culture. Linda Andes, a research professional in the youth culture realm, wrote an essay called "Growing Up Punk: Meaning and Commitment Careers in a Contemporary Youth Culture." In a nut shell, the essay describes the phases one goes through when they grow up in a certain subculture. Using punk as her vehicle, Andes is covering all subcultures in the essay. One phase that caught my mind and stuck to me was the "transcendence" phase. In my own words(a shorter and simplified version of Andes' explanation), the transcendence phase can be described as the time when one doesn't necessarily leave their subculture, but begins to announce themselves less and less. By "announce themselves less," I mean a change in one's style of clothing, how one acts and how one judges others. There are many other traits that be can attributed to subcultures as well. The reason this phase hit me so hard was because I realized that I'm in this phase.
Let me take you back to 2003. I was a sophomore in high school and Taking Back Sunday and Coheed and Cambria were still relatively unknown to the general public, and thus, "cool" to listen to. Not only were they "cool" to listen to, but it was "cool" to dress like them and look like them. Growing your hair long, wearing ultra tight jeans that projected the outline your crotch, wearing shirts and hoodies that made it difficult to breathe, listening to bands that wouldn't be caught dead on MTV or on Y100, playing your instruments like the bands, hanging out with similar people, and harshly judging those unlike yourself all fall into the subculture that I belonged to. I believe it was called "emo" by most outsiders, but I'll save that rant for another day.
Anyway, fast forward to the present. I'm sitting at my laptop wearing khaki shorts, white Reebok's and a slightly tight Phila. Dept. Of Rec. Golf Camp t-shirt. Oh, and I have very short hair. I still listen to Taking Back Sunday, in fact, I even went to their show a few nights ago. I also still listen to Coheed and Cambria and plethora of other bands that fall into the same music genre. It's the music I like. It's the music I prefer. I used to feel the need to tell the entire world that I listen to said music with the way I dressed and how I grew my hair. I enjoyed the polite stares from others who were like me. I enjoyed the unspoken bond formed with numerous people a day. It was fun at the time, but in retrospect, it was also exhausting. It was exhausting caring so much about how my hair looked and waiting for it to get longer, worrying about the next shirt I bought and if it didn't hug my chest well enough, and hoping my jeans were tight enough.
I no longer feel the need to announce my involvement in the subculture. I wouldn't say that I've left the subculture. I still listen to the music and occasionally go to the shows, but the only people who really need to know that are the ones who already know: my friends and family. I don't need a million fake friends out there brought together by a style of music and dress. By no means am I bashing subcultures either. They're a beautiful thing. They give you an identity. They bring people together for a common cause. My days under the command of a subculture helped me meet a good amount of my friends, helped me discover some amazing bands, and gave a solid definition to my teenage years. I subconsciously wanted that result. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again.
There are some people I know who haven't yet reached the transcendence phase, and maybe they never will. That's cool too. To each his own. For example, the two subcultures that seem to never let go of their followers are the "gangsta" subculture and the "athlete" subculture. I still see the same old gangstas from high school wearing t-shirts down to their knees, high top sneakers, and shorts down to their ankles while sporting shaved heads with pointed sideburns that go along great with the tough sneer permanently engraved into their faces. I also see the same old athletes, and former athletes, wearing socks with their Adidas slip-ons, basketball shorts, and a lanyard with their keys and some kind of ID card attached to the end.
Call it growing up, call it "getting what I wanted and that's enough," or call it whatever you want. I'm in the transcendence phase of life in my subculture and I'm enjoying it. I'm not longer exhausted. I'm content. I'm content with my clothes, my hair, my friends and my life. My subculture helped me achieve that. I didn't even realize my change in overall style and mentality until I read the Linda Andes piece. It's so subtle to the person going through it.
I could be wrong.It's quite possible there is no such thing as a "transcendence" phase. Perhaps phases don't exist. Perhaps subcultures don't exist. Maybe one's style is one's style. You decide.
