Lately, I can’t scroll through YouTube or social media without bumping into another jab at Baby Boomers. We’re apparently the generation that “ruined the world.” According to the memes and talking heads, we hoarded all the wealth, bought all the houses, wrecked the planet, and then told everyone else to work harder while sipping iced tea from our perfectly arranged retirement patios.

It’s a catchy narrative, but it’s also a ridiculous stereotype.

I came of age in the shadows of assassinations, resignations, riots, and wars. I’ve watched our country break and reassemble itself more than once. I’ve voted in elections where my candidate lost by a landslide and worked through recessions where nobody bailed me out. I’ve held my breath through market crashes, pandemics, terrorist attacks, and watched the promise of creating a better world fail to reach fruition time and time again.

I’ve paid taxes, raised kids, taught Girl Scouts, and started over more times than I can count. And I’m not alone.

The Boomer generation spans nearly two decades. We are not one thing. We’re not all CEOs or snowbirds and not all of us have huge houses to sell for triple the price so we can move to a new condo on a golf course in Arizona. Some are working second jobs in their seventies. Some are helping raise grandchildren. Some are caregivers to parents who are older than them. Some are rebuilding after divorce, bankruptcy, or loss. And many — far more than the internet would like to admit — are just as heartbroken by what’s happening in the world as the generations calling us out.

Do we have blind spots? Of course. Every generation does. But there’s a strange amnesia in the cultural conversation right now. There’s a refusal to remember that Boomers also fought for things that matter: civil rights, women’s rights, environmental protections. We marched and protested wars. We pushed back against the machine when it needed pushing.

We also built things — not just houses or highways, but ideas and movements. We created music that still moves people, wrote books that challenge the mind, and created foundations that still make life better for people. We made mistakes, yes, but we also made things better — without fanfare, without viral videos to let the world know how great we are.

So when people say, “Boomers ruined the world,” I want to ask: Which Boomers?

Was it the single mom working two jobs in the ’80s? The Vietnam vet who came home to silence? The teacher who spent 30 years buying crayons with her own paycheck? The factory worker whose job was shipped overseas while no one blinked or seemed to care at all?

Were we supposed to predict that student loans would turn into a lifetime burden for our children? That healthcare would become an absolute mess? Or that housing — once a symbol of our nation’s stability — would turn into an unrealistic venture few could afford? We didn’t create those systems. We moved through them, just like everyone else.

I understand the anger. The world feels broken in so many places. But rage without reflection becomes useless. When we start blaming entire generations for complex problems, we stop thinking critically. We forget that the real enemy is not your neighbor born in 1952 — it’s the system that taught us all to consume more, work endlessly, and measure worth in dollars and Instagram clicks.

And while we’re on the subject: Boomers didn’t invent social media or algorithms. We didn’t create deepfakes, data mining, or crypto scams. We didn’t make college unaffordable or normalize burnout. Many of us don’t even understand TikTok. So let’s be clear — every generation has added to the chaos, and every generation has the power to help clean it up.

The truth is, we need each other. The problems ahead are too big to solve with blame. What would happen if we actually listened across generations? If we stopped rolling our eyes and started sharing tools, stories, and wisdom? If we stopped keeping score and started building something new?

There’s a quiet strength that comes with having lived through so much. And Boomers have that strength in spades. It’s the ability to keep going even when things look bleak. It’s the instinct to show up with a casserole when a neighbor is hurting. It’s the resolve to vote, to write, to plant a tree you may never sit under. Most Boomers I know are still learning, still striving, still growing.

So listen up, younger folks. I didn’t ruin the world. Like most people, and countless generations before me, I had to use my sweat and tenacity to get through life. And now, you do too.