This 2026, Gen Z needs to make even bigger changes

Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.

The trentahin jokes were funny when I first saw them on my feed. You know the ones I’m talking about: those subtle jabs at thirty-somethings who still try to be down with the kids but will shamelessly fall asleep during nights out and prefer utilitarian presents to big, expensive gifts.

That was until I came to the conclusion that the coming new year is an inch closer to this stage in my life. After further self-assessment, I realized that I identify with millennials more than I do with younger members of my generation. Needless to say, the chances of me complaining of back pain are far higher than that of me unironically saying “6-7” in a sentence.

With that said, my fellow elder Gen Zs, our old ways of living will no longer cut it. As we approach yet another intimidating life stage, we’re going to have to overhaul some bad habits and flip more scripts. May I suggest that we start by appending the following resolutions to our list?

Return to wokeness

Political correctness is supposedly part and parcel of who we are, occasionally to the point of overkill. But recent societal shifts have slowly eroded our sense of right and wrong. It might have started with the six-year rule of a certain foul-mouthed strongman, or the resurgence of right-wing candidates in the West. But I’m sure social media was the final nail in the coffin. Racist, ableist humor once confined to secret group chats now seeps into daily conversation, with fairly little consequence.

This 2026, I predict—no, I demand!—that we bring back woke. All of it. I miss when we asked for people’s pronouns or actually cared about brands’ stances on social issues. Something as simple as calling out friends for out-of-pocket jokes is already considered a dying art. Most importantly, this should be coupled with continued political action. Not only must we criticize our public officials regardless of what the current news cycle spotlights, but we should show up in great numbers, whether we’re from the left or the center.

Embrace adult responsibilities

Right around the time the Barbie movie was released in 2023, the catchphrase “I’m just a girl” entered our cultural lexicon. And it was fun for a while. I understood why it resonated with audiences and participated in it, too. After the pandemic robbed us of our youth, we spent the succeeding years compensating for it, though it often meant shrinking ourselves down and shirking adult responsibilities.

But we must move on, regardless of what stage of grief we’re stuck in. Cluelessness and carelessness are no longer in fashion. In fact, I don’t think it ever was. We are going to learn how to file our taxes, schedule that doctor’s appointment, and curb our spending on sweet treats throughout the day. Big steps, I’m sure. Perhaps, we can start with finally accepting that being a beginner at something isn’t as shameful as we think, and learn to ask.

Turn to tangible comforts

Pinterest put it best when it described our current digital landscape as ambient chaos: “defined by content overload, overstimulation, and constant online noise.” No wonder Gen Z is nostalgic for a distant past where problems were far smaller and simpler. Since we have yet to make headway in time travel, we’ll continue turning to cultural artifacts instead. Think handwritten love letters, handmade trinkets, and outdated gadgets to capture our mundane moments.

Though we weren’t alive to witness the first wave of analog, its refusal to fade into oblivion is a crucial reminder that in an era that capitalizes on convenience, there is much to learn from taking things slow. Current technological advancements may claim to recognize us based on predictive algorithms, but nothing beats the power of curation and creation with our own two hands.

Be a villager

Many of my adult problems have been solved by going outside, touching grass, and calling a friend. But while we seek human connection and acknowledge its documented benefits, many of us still refuse to put in the work. We cancel plans at the last minute and debate doing the bare minimum for those we call our friends. How can we be part of a village if we refuse to be a villager?

Maybe we should take a page from our ancestors’ playbook. Neighbors used to knock on one another’s doors to share food, tend to the sick, and invite everybody to the dinner table—things we have since substituted with digital services or deprioritized in favor of romantic love. But hopefully, our inner worlds don’t turn so dystopian that we need Google Calendar reminders to foster empathy.

Entertain the idea of a quiet, boring life

This past year was marked by one spike in our dopamine levels after another. I don’t need to conduct a study to verify this: just check the Instagram stories of those closest to us. There was always a new side quest to embark on, which brought new people to meet and new places to visit—as if we were trying to offset our busy careers with busier social lives. 

That’s great, for those who are into that kind of thing. But while novelty may look like the norm, there is much to gain from finding our footing in routine. I have found fulfillment both in burying my nose in a book and playing the same album I’ve loved since I was 14, and waking up early on a weekend to explore the city with a good friend. A happy, full existence is not contingent on the activities in our schedule, anyway—it’s the person that we actively choose to become at the end of the day. 

Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.