70s Generation

Author: Yang Hui / Peng Guoliang (Editor-in-Chief)
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-07-01
Features: Nowadays, there's a trend of categorization—what's "the floating generation," "her century," "BOBO tribe," "new new humans," and the overused "petit bourgeoisie." Our society seems to be hurriedly labeling itself, fearing to fall behind, perhaps due to rapid social changes and the unpredictable nature of life. People need more sense of belonging and identity. Recently, the most heated debate has been about "70s-born" and "post-80s," a categorization based on birth years. However, such divisions are not without merit. Those born in the 70s share a common historical background and development opportunities, and they face similar setbacks and frustrations, all of which are reflected in this book. [Preface] On the Road (Preface) It's past midnight. Aside from a few night-shift taxis passing by, the ring road is desolate and hard in the cold night. Tsai Chin's magnetic voice surrounds me like warm air. Driving alone on the chilly road at midnight, my thoughts drift with the song. In the afternoon, facing a mountain of greeting cards waiting to be sent, I suddenly realize that the year has slipped into the end without notice. The end of the year is often when people write summaries. Among the various summaries of the Chinese this year, certain phrases are inevitable: "successful bid for the Olympics," "football qualification," "China's entry into the WTO," and so on. It's truly a time of prosperity and joy. 2001 was an inspiring year. China is like a runner, moving swiftly and reporting victories one after another. In comparison, personal experiences seem insignificant. It's late, and there are few cars on the road. I'm speeding along. I love this feeling of being on the road—because of its forward momentum, because of its speed. Personal experiences are, in fact, a process of running. The journey of the column is no different. I still remember a cold night at the end of the 1990s when I suddenly had an idea: to create a program with depth. So, we began to run. From conception to formation, from the prototype to airtime, after ten months of incubation, "New Youth" was finally born. From "New A & B" to "New Youth Interview," from "May Fourth New" to "Click" series, from "Youth in the West is Young" to "New Youth Millennium Forum," from "Born in the 70s" to "My Youth, My Creation," from "Golden Himalayas" to "Preview 2002," "New Youth" has been growing, and running has become its defining trait. Alongside the program, we have also matured through this running. Our colleagues in the column jokingly say that growing in "New Youth" is a "forced growth," and running has become a habit. I remember the protagonist Forrest Gump from the American film "Forrest Gump." In the movie, Forrest runs endlessly, from the south to the north, from dawn to dusk. Along the way, his hair grew longer, his clothes became ragged, but his running posture remained unchanged. His followers grew more and more, filling the entire frame, the entire city running, and even the entire world running. The last scene is truly moving. At this point, running has become a symbol. People often have the urge to stop and rest at times, such as at the end of the year. Forrest Gump is the ideal runner—he runs tirelessly because he has no desires, he's a fool, running is his only purpose, and running is his greatest joy. Days are a bit like roads, winding and long. The end of the year doesn't just mean the end of "this," but also the beginning of "the next." The concept of a "way station" is to take a brief rest before continuing forward. In reality, running is a kind of temperament. After leaving the ring road, the streetlights on Furong Road are particularly gentle and charming in the night. They pass by in a flash, leaving one a bit reluctant to move on. Thinking of the light at home not far away, I step on the accelerator. In the car, Tsai Chin's voice still drifts. Always on the road—I love it.