There was a time when being “caught up” on pop culture meant you had your TV schedule memorized.
Not your streaming password.
Not your watchlist.
Not an algorithm telling you what you might like.
Your actual television. You knew when Martin came on. You knew when In Living Color and A Different World was airing. You knew Friday night was sacred because you had to see what foolishness happened next on Family Matters. And if somebody called your house during your favorite show? That person was immediately on your “I need to rethink this friendship” list.
Because we were raised differently.
We were raised in a world where everybody watched the same thing. The next day at school, we weren’t asking, “Did you stream that episode?” We were asking, “Did you see what happened last night?”And baby, if you didn’t? You were out of the conversation.
As a Black Gen X woman, pop culture wasn’t just entertainment. It was our language.We learned confidence from Essence Magazines. We learned friendship from Khadijah, Maxine, Regine and Synclaire on Living Single. We learned that college could be a place of growth, community, and purpose from A Different World. We watched Black women be smart, stylish, complicated, funny, and successful like Claire Huxtable.
Of course, we also watched some questionable fashion choices.
Because why did we think wearing spandex biker shorts, oversized jean jackets, and a scrunchie somehow made us look good? Why did we think every outfit needed a matching accessory? The 90s really had us out here looking like we were auditioning for a music video at the mall.
Speaking of music, let’s talk about the soundtrack of our lives.
Gen X Black women had RANGE. One minute we were dancing and singing in our bedrooms listening to Boyz II Men, Toni Braxton, and Anita Baker. The next minute we were practicing every dance move from TLC videos and trying to figure out if we could actually pull off the “No Scrubs” attitude in real life.Oh!
And we had mixtapes! Like…actual tapes.We had to sit by the radio waiting for our favorite song to play so we could hit record at the perfect moment without the DJ talking over it.Today, people complain if their song takes more than two seconds to load.
Then came the celebrity culture shift.
Back then, celebrities felt special because they weren’t everywhere. We didn’t know what our favorite stars ate for breakfast, where they went, or what did at 2 a.m.
There was mystery.
And Right On Magazine was our way of ginding out what our favorite celebs were up to. Now? Instagram has turned everybody’s life into a reality show.We wake up and know what somebody wore, where they vacationed, what they’re promoting, who they’re dating, and sometimes what they had for lunch.
And as much as I enjoy scrolling (because let’s be honest, I’m not above watching a celebrity kitchen tour), sometimes I miss the simplicity of waiting for Entertainment Tonight to air or grab an urban magazine from the grocery store.There was something magical about not knowing everything.
Maybe that’s why so many Gen Xers feel nostalgic. It’s not just because we miss old shows or old songs. We miss the feeling of experiencing things together.We had fewer channels, but somehow more connection.We didn’t have a thousand choices, but we had conversations.We didn’t have social media, but we had social lives.
Now here we are: we became young adults while watching Martin but now, scrolling Instagram while saying, “I remember when…”And honestly? I wouldn’t trade being a Gen X Black woman for anything.We got the best of both worlds.We had morning cartoons and Soul Train on saturdays, BSaturdays, video stores, CDs, The Box, and childhoods where nobody needed to text us every five minutes to know where we were.
We witnessed the birth of the internet and somehow survived every password reset since. We saw Black culture evolve from living rooms and record stores to hashtags and viral moments. We are the generation that remembers when entertainment was something we gathered around, and now we’re watching history unfold one scroll at a time.
So yes, I was 16 when Martin debuted and 21 when the series ended. My coming-of-age era was something special, because it’s my most nostalgic part of my life. I also still remember the theme song to In Living Color. And yes, I’m probably going to scroll Instagram tonight while wondering why nobody makes sitcoms like they used to.Because that’s the Gen X Black woman experience: A little nostalgia. A little “back in my day.” And a whole lot of “they don’t make them like they used to.”
