Opinion: 'Smile and say hello to the balaclava kids. They might just say hello back'
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That gaggle of teens walking down the street towards you, that feeling inside of uh-oh trouble, these pesky kids approaching with their faces hidden, and no doubt you’re going to get mugged. Oh.
They’ve walked past just laughing amongst themselves, some cultural reference shared that you don’t get, ‘your mum’s a snorlax’ the last words you hear as they turn the corner towards the park, obviously off to do no good.
Remember when you were that age? I do. Me, I mean.
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Hide AdHead to foot denim, covered in patches, Motorhead, AC/DC, Hawkwind.
Hair in curtains hanging past my shoulders. Hanging with my mates who looked pretty much the same. Apart from that lad who was a punk. Green spiky hair. Purposely ripped clothes head to foot. Safety pins. Doc Martens.
Passing folk giving us the eye, looking away when we looked back. Off to the park to hang out. Sit on the swings. See who could go the highest.
Not because we were kids of course, but because we were daring, reckless and cool. And yes, we might share a bottle of cheap cider, because we were also rebels.
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Hide AdAnd then go home, to the place where we were also misunderstood. How could they understand us? We were the new generation, with new things. What could they know?
When they were our age it was mods and rockers, or even those weirdos who’d dance to soul music all night dressed in vests. How is that cool?
Rockers head to toe in leather and studs. Mods in tight suits and tennis shirts. All of it seeming about attitude. Statement. Talking ‘bout my generation, etc.
And this generation, right now? By accident I’m in a conversation with a group of lads that could only be termed as scallies.
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Hide AdHoodies, baseball caps, and yes, balaclavas. I ask, why balaclavas? I laugh and say out loud that they look like muggers. There’s a pause.
What comes next surprises me, and yet, makes complete sense.
I am told that they wear such things because they’re sick of being on camera. CCTV on town streets, on village streets, on people’s houses.
Sick of being filmed on phones. Sick of being watched, stared at, assumed to be out for trouble because they are young. I remember that feeling.
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Hide AdThat mix of wanting to express yourself whilst not wanting to be stared at. Imagine now, being that young person, evolving into what you want to be, finding who you are, yet not wanting to be watched without your consent.
And yes, I hear you: explain social media then. Agreed.
But, a social media post by that given person is a chosen representation of themselves, whatever that might be. To be young is to be pesky. That knowingness that responsibility is just around the corner. So here is my dare to you: smile and say hello to the balaclava kids. They might just say hello back.