One River, Many Currents: Care Intelligently Across Generations
By Baozhen M. Luo-Hermanson, PhD
June 13, 2025
A few years ago, during the pandemic, I had an encounter at the dog park that left me shaken.
I had just spent the day writing about how decades of Reagan-Thatcher era economic policies—continued by both parties—have gutted public education and social services. I was carrying the weight of that truth, along with my own rising anxiety and depression.
An older white couple in their seventies arrived. The woman threw a ball for their dog—perhaps misjudging the distance, perhaps not seeing me clearly—and it flew directly toward me. I dodged it, startled. No apology came. I called out, "Hey, why didn't you apologize?!"
The woman said nothing. Then turned away. Her husband, after eyeing me for a moment, shook his head, and snapped, "Go back home!"
As an Asian woman, a first-generation immigrant, I knew what that meant. The fury rushed in like a flood—my heart pounded, my hands trembled, my vision blurred. And then, out of my mouth, a voice not fully my own shouted:
"You all need to get out of this earth, you racists! Look at the shitty world you passed on to us. Now we have to clean it all up for you!"
As soon as the words left my mouth, I was horrified. I was born and raised in China, where reverence for the elderly is woven into the moral fabric. I had studied aging, built a career in gerontology, gone on TV to educate the public about ageism, designed intergenerational programs, and counted older adults among my closest friends.
And yet in that moment, I lashed out—not only in racial pain, but also in generational blame.
I ran after them to apologize. "I'm so sorry. That was unkind, and ageist." They walked away in silence.
Later, I sat with the anger and the shame. I asked myself: After two decades in this country, had Western ageism seeped into my psyche, despite all my efforts to resist it? Had the generational wounds in this society become my own?
This moment—raw, disorienting, and deeply human—was one of the most humbling experiences of my life. It revealed something I now carry into every room I walk into: Even the most well-intentioned among us carry unconscious generational pain; structural resentment can quickly become personal.
The Fractures Between Us
These tensions show up everywhere—across dinner tables, in our politics, inside organizations, and especially online.
Take the phrase "OK, Boomer," which went viral in 2019 as younger generations used it to dismiss what they saw as older generations' denial or resistance to change. A 25-year-old New Zealand Parliament member used “OK, Boomer” to shut down a heckler during a climate speech. At a Harvard-Yale football game, protesters chanted it while urging fossil fuel divestment.
It wasn't just a meme—it was generational protest, shorthand for disappointment in the legacy left behind.
Social media platforms became battlegrounds of intergenerational grievance. Recent workplace trends like "Bare-Minimum Mondays" and "Act Your Wage" sparked similar debates. What younger workers framed as mental health boundaries, older employees interpreted as disengagement.
Boomers and Gen Xers, who built careers through long hours and institutional loyalty, asked: Where's the work ethic?Younger generations, still coping with the long tail of the financial crisis and the pandemic, and burdened by student debt and climate concerns, fired back: Where is the care when we are burning out?
These aren't petty squabbles. They are moral reckonings—conflicting definitions of duty, respect, and care, all rooted in different historical experiences. Research shows that of all generational pairings, the most hostility in the U.S. appears between Baby Boomers and Millennials.
When these wounds go unexamined, misunderstanding calcifies into mistrust. And mistrust deepens into division.
Leading Beyond Your Generational Narrative
The question isn't just how to manage conflict—it's how to lead beyond your generational narrative.
The answer, I believe, is Care Intelligence: the capacity to lead with awareness of generational context, sensitivity to relational dynamics, and deep commitment to human needs across time.
To cultivate Care Intelligence, leaders must understand that intergenerational conflict is both sociological and psychological. It's not just clashing work styles—it's the product of history, structural inequality, as well as individual capacities and choices.
This is where the Life Course Perspective becomes essential. Originally developed in sociology and aging studies, this framework shows how individual trajectories are shaped by the intersection of historical events, structural opportunities, and personal decisions—especially during formative years (roughly age 10-25).
A person's life is never just about their age. It's about the timing of when they were born, what they lived through, and how early experiences shaped their outlook, values, and path forward.
The life course is a dance between what we choose and what we inherit.
When leaders adopt this lens, they gain the ability to see patterns without flattening people. They understand that while individuals within a generation differ greatly, there are generational signatures—cultural imprints from shared conditions that influence how people approach work, authority, and care.
Importantly, while the U.S., UK, and Australia tend to define generations in 15–20-year spans (e.g., Millennials, Gen Z), in other parts of the world, generational categories are framed differently. In China, for example, generations are defined by tighter ten-year bands—“post-60s,” “post 70s,” “post 80s” and so on. This reflects the rapid pace of social change, political upheaval, and technological transformation in China over recent decades.
These distinctions are not merely semantic or cultural—they speak to the velocity of historical change and how quickly societal conditions can reshape generational identity.
Although this essay centers primarily on the U.S. context, these generational insights will manifest differently across cultures. That said, scholars and observers have noted striking parallels between Western Millennials and Gen Zers and China’s “post-80s,” “post-90s,” and “post-00s” cohorts—especially in areas like digital nativity, evolving workplace expectations, and rising mental health consciousness.
A Sweeping Overview of Six Generations in the U.S.
The Danger of Simplified Stories
Two key concepts help us navigate generational complexity: age effects—biological and physiological changes over the lifespan—and cohort effects—lasting imprints from shared historical experiences during formative years. (Cohort and Generation are used interchangeable throughout the essay, as aligned with social gerontology literature and public discourse).
We run into trouble when we ignore cohort effects and interpret everything through age alone. When a young leader is dismissed as "too green," or an older employee overlooked as "out of touch," we're not engaging complexity—we're engaging in ageism.
But we must also be cautious not to over-rely on cohort patterns as shortcuts to understanding. Generational stories are indicators, not absolutes. Not every Gen Zer is a digital activist. Not every Boomer resists change. When we treat these patterns as fixed destinies rather than invitations to deeper understanding, we flatten rather than humanize.
The gift of the Life Course Perspective is that it invites leaders to meet people as whole human beings—shaped by an alchemy of the social and personal, structure and agency, history and choice. What emerges is a more generative way of seeing—anchored in history, open to complexity, and rooted in care.
The Life Course Lens encourages generational humility: recognizing that we're all shaped by forces we didn't choose, and that other generations' perspectives arise from histories we may not fully understand. The invitation is to find the courage to acknowledge the unknown, for both the young and the old, and to humbly ask: please teach me—I want to know you and your generation more, I want to tap understand the complexity more.
That's where insight lives.
That's where trust begins.
One River, Many Currents
In addition to age and cohort effects, sociologists identify the period effect: the influence of historical events that affect all generations simultaneously. These are moments that shift consciousness across age lines. For example, when the world witnessed Black children being hosed down during peaceful protests in 1963 Birmingham, public opinion swung decisively in favor of civil rights. More recently, the sweeping arrival of artificial intelligence has sparked cross-generational concern about data privacy, digital rights, and the ethical use of technology.
These are not generational issues—they are human ones.
The different generations are indeed swimming in the same river.
Approaching intergenerational conflict with Care Intelligence is not only sociological and psychological—it is also profoundly spiritual. The fractures between generations are not only wounds to be tended; they are invitations. Beneath the surface of conflict lies the potential for deep reconciliation.
Intergenerational friction is not new. It is a near-universal feature of human history—a recurring rite of passage as each generation grapples with the world it inherits and the world it hopes to build. The Baby Boomers, now often accused of rigidity, were once seen as rebellious radicals. Generation X was labeled the “slacker generation.” Millennials have been mocked as “entitled.” Now Gen Z faces resistance not unlike what Boomers once encountered.
And yet, beneath all that friction lies something enduring: interdependence.
Most Millennials are the children of Baby Boomers. Gen Xers and Millennials are stepping into caregiving roles, supporting aging parents while raising children. Younger Millennials and Gen Zers are starting to pay into the public pension system (Social Security in the U.S.), sustaining the retirements of the very generations they may critique.
This is not metaphor. It is structure. We are a web of mutual care, held together by concrete systems of dependency and contribution.
In workplaces, this interdependence matters, too.
Boomers bring institutional wisdom.
Gen Xers offer bridge-building pragmatism.
Millennials bring purpose-driven leadership.
Gen Z contributes cultural intuition and moral courage.
Across traditions and cultures, the transmission of wisdom and power has always been intergenerational. We learn through apprenticeship, mentorship, story, and sponsorship. We inherit. We steward. We pass on.
The generative energy that sustains life flows continuously—without separation between young and old, past and future. To care across generations is to participate in that flow.
Daoist philosophy reminds us: unity and differentiation are not opposites—they are complementary forces. Just as a river holds both stillness and movement, so too can our organizations hold both tradition and innovation.
We are not fractured lines.
We are one river, many currents.
Back at the Park
If I could return to that moment at the dog park, I wouldn't shout after I dodged the ball. I would take a few deep breaths and see whether I could anchor myself—whether I could find spaciousness and curiosity within.
If I couldn’t, I would choose to leave the park and give myself more time—more space—for the anger to metabolize.
If I somehow could, I’d walk over gently and begin with what connected us: our shared love for dogs, perhaps our shared exhaustion from living through a pandemic. Then I’d ask:
What was it like for you to come of age during turbulent times? How did you cope with uncertainty, with loss, with change?
I’d hope the older couple might open up. And if they didn’t, I’d still walk away with my dignity intact—and without letting that moment change how I interact with other elders in my community.
As a coach, I now invite Boomer and Gen X leaders—especially those raising their eyebrows at Gen Z—to do the same. Instead of judging behavior, ask about the story behind it:
What has it been like to come of age in this era of uncertainty? How have you coped? What are you afraid of? What do you hope for?
Start with curiosity—with the acknowledgment: There is so much about you and your generation that I do not know.
Start with listening.
Start with learning—with a sincere desire to learn.
Make it a two-way street.
That day in the park reminded me that even those who study generational dynamics aren’t immune to generational pain. But it also revealed something hopeful: when we name our unconscious biases, we create space for healing.
Care Intelligence doesn’t eliminate difference.
It teaches us to understand it—and to lead through it—with wisdom, compassion, and courage.
To care intelligently across generations is to remember: we are never just one point in a line.
We are part of a living, breathing whole.
The future belongs to those who can bridge the divides.
Who understand that every generation carries both grief and gift.
And who choose not just to lead through what separates us—but toward what connects us.
One river. Many currents.
Let us learn to flow wisely, together.
