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Many people from Generation X are comparing themselves to the Silent Generation.

Generation X, those born between 1965 and 1980, hold a unique place between Baby Boomers and Millennials. But its a previous generation that many are claiming to relate to even more: the Silent Generation.

In an online community of Gen Xers, a member named @bravenewwhorl shared with fellow Gen Xers about the similarities they share with the Silent Generation, those born between 1925 and 1945. "My parents were born before World War Two and my older siblings are younger boomers. Let’s hear it for the Silent Generation who were very much like us; went through the Depression, the war, took care of themselves and knew how to conserve resources," they wrote.

The user when on to add, "For example my mom scraped ALL the butter off the foil wrapper, and used every frying pan and leftover chicken bone as an opportunity to make soup."

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The post seemed to resonate with many Gen Xers, who also shared their thoughts and experiences that connect them to the Silent Generation. These are some of the best comments from Gen Xers on why they feel simpatico with the Silent Generation.

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"My parents are Silent Gen. Very low key, no fuss or drama sorts of people." Dark-Empath-

"Mine too. That's basically their defining generational trait -- head down, work, and stay out of the way." stevemm70

"Oh the way my Dad could say nothing so very loudly. There are still things I wouldn't dream of doing now because his silence was so deafening. I am 56." Maleficent_Bit2033

"Mine were born during the war, but same. Extremely frugal and practical. Parents were way into reusing everything and not wasting. My mom still has a drawer full of Ziplock bags and sheets of tinfoil that have been used 10x. My dad drilled into me that social security probably will not be there for our generation, so save save save. Cars are tools, not investments. Drive it into the ground. My Honda is 20 years old, Dad!" Haunting-Berry1999

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"My parents are Silent Generation, and because I was born in the mid 60s, so are the parents of almost everyone I grew up with. I am tired of this narrative that all GenX parents were boomers; that is simply not true, especially for those of us born 1970 or earlier. My parents were always very concerned about economic security, both for themselves and their kids. They transferred that concern to my siblings and myself." Ineffable7980x

"I still put ham bones in the freezer (Great grandma thing) for the soup I never make. Maybe this time :)." motherofguinaepigz

"My parents' parents definitely conserved resources - would wash and reuse 'tin foil', made food carry over into 4 or 5 different meals, shopped wisely, were extremely frugal with money and tried to be financially savvy. For them, cars, clothes, and appliances were maintained and repaired and lasted for years and years. My parents inherited a lot of those traits by example, and it followed down to us, too. Cars, clothes, and appliances aren't made today the way they were 'back then', of course, but we still try to make it work. I know people who change cars, or get new appliances, or even remodel or move to a new house every several years, and that just doesn't make sense to me. I just hope upcoming generations maintain and improve the 'reduce, reuse, recycle' mindset we were taught." DrewHunterTn

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"My grandparents were Silent Generation. I am young GenX (but still GenX ‘76). I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for my Silent Generation grandparents. They taught me a lot, and I feel more in touch with their generation than I’ve ever felt with Boomers. The boomers were such a let down; not great parents and worse grandparents." kemberflare

"My folks are both silent generation (both born in 41) and I'm a young gen x (born in 75, last of 3), and farm kids to boot. They taught me a lot of important things. You do what you want, but think it through because all actions have consequences. Don't waste money on frivolous stuff, but when you buy something big, buy quality and make it last. Most importantly, while they loved me and thought I was special, the world at large doesn't think about me at all. Also, my mom still washes out ziplock bags. I did not keep that lesson." No_Hedgehog_5406

"Mine are young Silent gen’s, so didn’t know the war strife, but their parents knew how to be frugal, could fix anything, and passed that down through the generations. My parents said they were too old to be hippies, but almost went to Woodstock. My dad got a PhD to stay out of Vietnam. Like others have said, very low key, very private, and didn’t live in the past at all. Compared to my friends’ parents, I wouldn’t trade them for anything else." ZuesMyGoose

In 1904, a schoolteacher named Lewis W. Hine started photographing immigrants as they arrived at Ellis Island.

Photography turns light into a palpable record of a moment in time, which is incredible when you think about it. And Hine knew just how powerful those moments could be.

An Albanian woman from Italy at Ellis Island in 1905 (left) and an Armenian man in 1926 who was fleeing persecution in Turkey (right). Photos by Lewis W. Hine/The New York Public Library.


Hine was working as a teacher and photographer at the Ethical Culture School in New York City when he started taking his students on field trips to Ellis Island to show them the conditions of millions of immigrants.

He believed that if people could see images of the abuse and injustices that were happening in America, it might make social reform a reality.

And, eventually, his dream started coming true. He's now known for creating images that brought to light scenes of child labor, poor living conditions, unemployment, immigration, and human ingenuity.

After he left his teaching position, he went on to work with the National Child Labor Committee — which lobbied for the abolition of child labor — to document and expose the exploitative practices in the United States. His photos were used in publications all over the world, and they inspired many people to fight for change.

By capturing intangible moments of reality, Hine connected human faces to society's wrongdoings.

Here are some of the thousands of images that Hine took during his life — pictures that brought dignity to millions of Americans and helped enact positive change:

Hine gave voice to the voiceless in an era when communication was limited.

A group of Slavic immigrants at Ellis Island in 1905. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The New York Public Library.

“There are two things I wanted to do. I wanted to show the things that had to be corrected. I wanted to show the things that had to be appreciated,” Hines said about his work.  

Group of immigrants from Italy at Ellis Island in 1905. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The New York Public Library.

He followed the immigrant experience to the tenement buildings in major cities and helped expose terrible living conditions.

A mother and her two children live in one room on the top floor of a building in New York. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The Library of Congress.

His work with the NCLC often required him to sneak into factories and workshops with a disguise to avoid notice.

Two young boys working a spinning frame at a mill in Macon, Georgia, in 1909. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The Library of Congress.

"There is work that profits children, and there is work that brings profit only to employers. The object of employing children is not to train them, but to get high profits from their work,” Hines said in 1908.

Workers take a break at the Newberry Mills in South Carolina. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The Library of Congress.

Through reform and laws enacted on the state and federal level, “by 1920 the number of child laborers was cut to nearly half of what it had been in 1910,” according to the National Archives.

Donnie Cole, known as "Our Baby Doffer," hesitantly said his age was 12 when asked by Hine. A doffer is someone who replaces spindles in spinning frames. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The Library of Congress.

His work with National Research Project of the Work Projects Administration exposed the indescribable conditions of everyday people during the Great Depression.

Callie Campbell, 11 years old, picking cotton in Pottawatomie County, Oklahoma. When asked about her job, she said, "No, I don't like it very much." Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The Library of Congress.

His photos championed hardworking everyday people, which is most vividly shown in his incredible photos of the construction of the Empire State Building.

Two ironworkers connecting beams on the Empire State Building in 1931. Photo by Lewis W. Hine/The New York Public Library.

Hine was a beacon of humanism at a time when the world was rapidly changing. He was a champion for the exploited. He was an activist.

He was also an incredible pioneer of documentary photography in America.

Despite the power of his work, the changing times of the Great Depression stalled interest in his work, and he died in poverty in 1940. Over the years, though, his legacy has grown exponentially since his death. His investigative photos are still a stark reminder of the kinetic effect images can have on society.

By recognizing the need for change and using his photography skills to help usher it along, Hine demonstrated the true power of images.

That's something that inspires me, and other photographers, daily.

His photos are humbling reminders of the struggles of everyday people at the dawn of the modern era. They're a reminder that each of us can change the world, even if it's in a small way. And they're a reminder of the hurdles America has overcome to get to where we are today.

There is no better way to celebrate Black History Month than with historic photographs from an era long-gone ... and Beyoncé.

The photos are publicly available for the first time thanks to the recently digitized collection from the Farm Security Administration, which captured America on film from the mid-1930s to 1942. Along with other agencies' photos, the collection totals more than 170,000 pictures

The images below offer a rare glimpse into the lives of African-American workers and families. Many were employed as sharecroppers or tenant farmers, but landowners often kept these farmers in their debt, leaving many hardworking families poverty-stricken. Conditions worsened with the Great Depression, as African-American workers were hit especially hard. By 1932, nearly half were out of work. It was a bleak period in history, but it laid the groundwork for many of the labor movements and civil rights protests to come. 


Like these photographs, Beyoncé's latest single, "Formation," (written by Queen B and Swae Lee) perfectly captures a spirit that is strong, fearless, and unapologetically black. 

In the spirit of Black History Month, why not experience the two together?

"Y'all haters corny with that Illuminati mess."

Natchez, Mississippi, 1940. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Paparazzi, catch my fly, and my cocky fresh."

Watching the Columbia-Navy football game in Annapolis, Maryland. Photo by John Vachon/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I'm so reckless when I rock my Givenchy dress (stylin')."

Church Sunday in Little Rock, Arkansas, 1935. Photo by Ben Shahn/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"My daddy Alabama"

Reading classes in Gee's Bend, Alabama, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Momma Louisiana. You mix that Negro with that Creole make a Texas bama."

A sharecropper's home in Independence, Louisiana, 1939. Photo by Lee Russell/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I like my baby heir with baby hair and Afros. I like my Negro nose with Jackson 5 nostrils."

Lee County, Mississippi, 1935. Photo by Arthur Rothstein/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Earned all this money but they never take the country out me. "

Fuquay Springs, North Carolina, 1935. Photo by Arthur Rothstein/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I got hot sauce in my bag, swag."

Clarksdale, Mississippi, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I like corn breads and collard greens"

Washing greens in Belle Glade, Florida, 1941. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Oh, yes, you besta believe it."

Granville County, North Carolina, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I see it, I want it"

"I stunt, yellow-bone it."

A woman works at a factory in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Photo by Jack Delano/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I dream it."

"I work hard."

A woman teaches lessons in her home in Transylvania, Louisiana, 1939. Photo by Russell Lee/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I grind till I own it."

Memphis, Tennessee, 1938. Photo by Lee Russell/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Sometimes I go off (I go off)"

Singing during the collection at a black church in Heard County, Georgia. Photo by Jack Delano/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I go hard (I go hard)"

A man removes seeds from a cotton gin in Clarksdale, Mississippi, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Get what's mine (take what's mine)"

A man buys supplies from a mobile general store in Forrest City, Arkansas, 1938. Photo by Russell Lee/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I'm a star (I'm a star)"

Students in Omar, West Virginia. Photo by Ben Shahn/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"'Cause I slay, slay"

"I slay, hey, I slay, OK"

Friends gather at a juke joint in Clarksdale, Mississippi, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I slay, OK, all day, OK."

Unloading tobacco in Durham, North Carolina, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I slay, OK, I slay, OK."

Easter morning, Chicago. Photo by Russell Lee/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"We gon' slay, slay"

The bar at the Palm Tavern in Chicago, 1941. Photo by Russell Lee/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"We slay, OK."

Swimming in the fountain at Union Station in Washington, D.C., 1938. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"OK, ladies, now let's get in formation. 'Cause I slay."

National Youth Administration meeting in Chicago. Photo by Russell Lee/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"OK, ladies, now let's get in formation. 'Cause I slay."

Fourth- and fifth-grade students in Georgia, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Walcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Prove to me you got some coordination."

Construction workers in Washington, D.C., 1941. Photo by John Collier/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I might get your song played on the radio station. 'Cause I slay."

A blind street musician performs in West Memphis, Arkansas, 1935. Photo by Ben Shahn/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I might get your song played on the radio station. 'Cause I slay."

John Dyson plays the accordion in Maryland, 1940. Photo by John Vachon/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"You might just be a black Bill Gates in the making. 'Cause I slay."

A farmer with his family and mule team in Flint River Hills, Georgia, 1939. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"I might just be a black Bill Gates in the making. 'Cause I slay."

A young girl works on a sewing project in Creek County, Oklahoma,1940. Photo by Russell Lee/U.S. Farm Security Administration.

"Always stay gracious, best revenge is your paper."

A former slave in her home in Greensboro, North Carolina, 1941. Photo by Jack Delano/U.S. Farm Security Administration

Don't let Black History Month end without checking out the rest of these incredible photographs.

There are hundreds more where these came from, and you can access all of them for free courtesy of the New York Public Library. 

I want to talk about the Republican debate. But first, we need to talk about "Shark Week."

Ladies and gentlemen, the star of "Shark Week!" Photo by Hermanus Backpackers/Wikimedia Commons.


Once a year, the Discovery Channel airs seven days of captivating, ostensibly educational nature programing that is, in reality, single-mindedly devoted to scaring the living daylights out of everyone who watches it.

It is — to put it mildly — the absolute greatest.

The slate for "Shark Week" includes dozens of sober-minded documentaries that nobody watches about the incredible variety in the global shark population and the conservation challenges faced by its dozens of endangered species, alongside a few pieces of terrifying horror porn with titles like "Bull Shark: The World's Deadliest Shark," "Anatomy of a Shark Bite," and "Great White Appetite" that everyone watches and movies like "Megalodon: The Monster Shark Lives" about deadly sharks that don't actually exist but that you should be scared of anyway just to be safe.

From the looks of it, you would think sharks were going around eating thousands of humans a year with impunity, high-fiving their fellow sharks and dropping sick shark raps about all the bodies they've dropped.

The average number of people killed annually by sharks in reality?

Five.

Last night's GOP debate was a little like "Shark Week."

Ladies and gentlemen, the stars of the GOP debate! Photo by Justin Sullivan/Getty Images.

The nine top Republican candidates and the four in the undercard debate gathered in Las Vegas to talk amongst themselves (or in Chris Christie's case, to glare directly into the camera with the uncomfortably piercing gaze of a disappointed father). It was billed as the "National Security Debate," or, alternately, the "Foreign Policy Debate" — the sort of description that might lead one to expect a passionate discourse on the nuances of statecraft, or an in-depth dialogue on how conservative diplomacy might offer notes of contrast with the current administration's practice of the same.

Instead, the basic gist of the whole event was: Look out behind you! ISIS terrorists are coming to your house. Be afraid! Be very afraid.

Christie declared, "We have people across this country who are scared to death." Marco Rubio suggested that ISIS is "not just the most capable, it is the most sophisticated terror threat we have ever faced." Rick Santorum, in the JV session, legit argued that "We have entered World War III."

The words "terror" or "terrorist" were mentioned 77 times in the main debate. 120 times if you include the earlier debate.

The candidates' ideas for defeating the extremist group ran the gamut, from dropping the same amount of bombs as now but bragging a little bit more about it, to carpet-bombing cities in Syria and Iraq to ensure that when we kill a few dozen ISIS operatives, thousands of innocent people who also hate ISIS die too.

And perhaps most plausible solution of all: saying the words "radical Islamic terror" over and over again until the terrorists presumably throw their guns into the sea in panic and turn themselves in.

Overall, the debate was really entertaining. And also extremely scary.

You can't really blame the Republicans for going whole hog on the terror threat.

A whole hog. Photo by abbamouse/Flickr.

Fear can be a highly effective political motivator. If you're scared, there's a good chance you'll blame the current president and be more willing to take a chance on the guy from the opposing party who promises to keep you safe.

And while the candidates' reactions may have been a tad on the severe side, the question they posed is totally fair game and worth talking about:

How scared of "radical Islamic terror" should we really be?

A memorial to the victims of the November attacks in Paris. Photo by Matthieu Alexandre/Getty Images.

Since Sept. 11, 2001, terror attacks committed by Islamic extremists have killed an average of just over three Americans per year. Three people is certainly not nothing! If three people I knew died randomly and horribly, I'd be pretty upset — and I'd definitely put preventing more people from dying the way they did near the top of my priorities list.

However, here is a brief list of things you're more likely to have on your death certificate than "killed by radical Islamic terrorists" if you're an American:

It's not at all wrong to be scared of terrorism. The whole point of terrorism is that it's scary. It's violent. It's unpredictable. And it's committed by human beings, many of whom are quite terrifying. Every time some vicious jerk walks into an office party with a gun or sets off a soda-can bomb on an airplane, I launch into the same fear/panic/despair cycle that my therapist is entirely sick of hearing about.

But the fact is...

We've survived way worse.

World War II, an objectively really scary time. Photo via the German Federal Archives/Wikimedia Commons.

Put simply, America has seen some shit. We survived a political and military revolution, centuries of brutal human bondage, a bloody civil war, two world wars, legal segregation, a 47-year-long nuclear standoff with a global superpower, and four seasons of "Mind of Mencia."

When it hits the fan, we can be pretty stone-cold about shutting it down.

ISIS is certainly evil and pretty ho-hum about killing people. But the idea that the group poses an existential threat to the United States — like Nazi Germany or the nuclear arms race or slavery — is ... more than a bit far-fetched.

And the people who ISIS does pose an existential threat to? Many of the same folks talking tough on stage last night are pretty dead-set against letting them move in next door.

Words have real consequences.

Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images.

ISIS is indeed scary. It's totally fair to note that. ISIS also adheres to an extremist brand of Islam. It's similarly fair to point that out and debate what it means for how we fight them. But there's a responsible way to do that, and then there's this — the leading presidential candidate of a major U.S. political party arguing that ISIS's barbarism justifies barring all Muslims from entering the United States.

It's easy to forget that if you go around on national television blurring the line between "Islam" and "what you should be scared of," sometimes people listen.

There have been over 45 documented Islamophobic incidents in the United States since the Paris attacks in November, including vandalism, attacks on mosques, and straight-up physical assault — sometimes of children. While politicians may not mean to incite acts of violence with their anti-Muslim rhetoric, extreme fear can lead people to do things they otherwise wouldn't, hitting back indiscriminately at the wrong target in the name of feeling a little bit more safe.

Beyond that, it just kind of sucks to be scared all the time.

Here's what not-scared people can do! It's pretty sweet. Photo by SimonP/Wikimedia Commons.

I like watching horror movies. I can watch all manner of gruesome, terrifying torture and gore if I know there's catharsis coming at the end. But I resent it when people try to scare me in an open-ended way. 'Cause being scared with no hope for release is pretty much the worst.

Terrorism is scary and random, but it's not even close to the most pressing danger facing any of us on a daily basis. It's not always easy to internalize that — in many ways, it feels counterintuitive. But once you do, it's pretty easy to cease being afraid, or at least stop letting that fear rule your life.

Go out! Go to concerts. Walk through the park. Take a lap around the mall. Browse and don't buy anything at Brookstone.

Something bad can happen when you're doing pretty much anything. Every time you shower, there's a not-zero chance you could slip and die. Most of us still do it every morning — and enjoy it too.

So take a deep breath. We've been through this before. And we'll get through it again.

Photo via the FDR Library/Wikimedia Commons.

Remember the Great Depression? Probably not, if you're effectively navigating the Internet without the assistance of your great-grandchild. But it was one of the objectively scariest times in American history. Unemployment skyrocketed to over 25% (as a comparison, following the financial crisis of 2008 — the biggest U.S. economic catastrophe in recent memory — unemployment peaked at 10%). Millions lost their homes, farms, and entire livelihoods. Fascism was on the march worldwide, and many feared (and some hoped) the United States would be next.

In the midst of all this, at the beginning of the worst year of the Depression, brand-new President Franklin Delano Roosevelt stepped up to the mic and dispensed some sage, fortune-cookie-ready advice. Not "Pee your pants, everybody" or "Hide under the covers forever" or "Oh God, oh God, oh God" while rocking back and forth in a fetal position.

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself," he said.

Though 80 years have passed since then, and there are fewer apple barrels around these days, the sentiment still rings pretty much true.

Because as a wise Jedi muppet once opined: "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to..."

...a chill weekend at Comic-Con. Photo by Doug Kline/Flickr.

(Please, no "Star Wars" spoilers.)