There is a diary entry of mine (Sparks) from when I learned that the pandemic would last longer than we initially thought. 17 years old at the time, I described my feelings of fear at the thought that I may die. “I don’t know if there’s even a point to planning for the future anymore.” I go on to write that whenever I don’t get a response from a loved one, I fear the worst. Looking back, this diary entry marks a pivotal point in the development of my consciousness: The pandemic made me face my own mortality. What is perhaps most striking is how my perspectives and ideas of others in my generation have continued to morph since those early days.
I now consider myself somewhat neutral about the topic of death. Every time I get into a car, I think, “This could be the one that finally does me in.” This used to scare me, but now I find it funny. If anything, this thought lessens my anxiety. What changed? When did the same thoughts that kept me up at night turn into jokes?
Youth culture in the United States tells the story of different perceptions of mortality. Social media is full of jokes about death, memes about funny ways to die, and other commentary stating that death would bring relief from work and school. I inquired with others my age, and the immediate response was that others felt the same. This was what led me to join Dr. Lisa J. Hardy’s research team.
Since March 2020, we have conducted in-depth exploratory interviews related to the sociocultural dimensions of COVID-19. Beginning in 2023, a youth-led initiative within the project led to a new focus on impacts on young people and, specifically, perceptions of death.
Through this research, we find a few key ways youth perceptions of mortality have changed: a sense of humor about death and capitalism, along with seriousness and acceptance of mortality. In interviews, we hear young people talk about the inevitability of life’s end. Jude (a pseudonym) reflected on the death of a grandparent by saying, “I mean, what do we expect [laughs] Anyway, I’m good.” Humor and acceptance of mortality among youth may seem insensitive or like a trivialization of the seriousness of death, though our research is finding exactly the opposite – that these responses may come from the incredible severity of the COVID-19 pandemic, and may even be a healthy response to our youth’s shared trauma.
Participants speak to urgency born out of feeling like the world was and is going to end. To some, it seems the world itself is dying. One person describes these as “apocalypse times.” Many already experienced the stress of economic insecurity and other problems prior to 2020. The pandemic intensified helplessness, intense grief, and an inability to think of anything else but the situation of the world. Constant news coverage at the beginning of the pandemic depicted stories of people turned into numbers by the “indiscriminate killer,” impacting how young people came of age. Youth, en masse, realized their own mortality was real and possible.
How have they coped with this? Some young people talk about making peace with death and their own mortality, others turn to humor as a coping mechanism, and some end up treasuring relationships as well as the time they had to live. Though many have adopted a “neutral,” “it is what it is,” or even “hopeful” death attitude, this does not necessarily trivialize death – especially when it comes to the death of their loved ones. Youth accept death as a fact of life, but they still mourn.
It won’t be easy to move past this collective trauma, but the answer might not be to go “back to normal.” Youth want others to know. Sammy said of “the health care system” and how “individuals are treated” that they worry “nothing will change after this.” Youth researchers in the project are certain that this is information that older adults need to know.
Young people are saying that COVID-19 “changed the way that [we] viewed health … viruses and even death.” It’s time to listen and to change. However, there is still research to be done. Right now, we urge practicing medical professionals to speak directly with young people about death and listen to youth.
I (Sparks) want young people to know that they are not alone, that we have all gone through a collective trauma together, and professionals to know that this may not solely be a psychological phenomenon that needs counseling but rather a cultural phenomenon that should be explored instead of pathologized.
Fabienne Sparks is an anthropology student. Lisa J. Hardy is a professor of anthropology and author.
The authors gratefully acknowledge collaborating researchers in the Social Science Community Engagement Story Lab including Carly Thompson-Campitor, Taylor Schweikert, and Christina Meeks.
