The Rise of the Analog Hobby

In a world where everything is high-definition and instantly available on a cloud, why is my generation suddenly obsessed with things that are slow and clunky? Film cameras are sold out at thrift stores, vinyl records are outselling CDs, and physical scrapbooking is making a massive comeback. We spend all day in front of a screen for school and work, so when it comes to our free time, we are starting to crave something we can actually touch. There is a specific kind of magic in the “imperfection” of analog media.

When you take a photo on your phone, you can take a hundred versions of it and it costs nothing. When you use a film camera, you only have twenty-four shots and you have to wait a week to see if any of them actually turned out. That waiting period creates a sense of intentionality that digital life has completely deleted. You are forced to be present in the moment rather than just trying to capture it for a story. It turns a hobby from a task into an experience.

This “analog boom” is basically a collective rebellion against the digital fatigue we all feel. We want things that have weight, texture, and even a bit of physical wear and tear. A vinyl record can skip, a film photo can be blurry, and a handwritten journal can have messy ink stains. Those flaws are what make them feel human. In a world of polished algorithms and perfect filters, we are finding that we actually prefer the “messy” reality of the physical world.

The Ethics of Brain-Boosting Meds

Walk into the library during finals week and you will eventually hear someone whispering about “study drugs.” The use of prescription stimulants like Adderall or Vyvanse by students without ADHD has become an open secret on most campuses. We talk about it like it is just an extra-strong cup of coffee, but the ethics of using “brain boosters” are actually pretty complicated. Is it a form of academic cheating, or is it just a desperate response to a university system that demands an impossible level of output?

On one hand, it creates an uneven playing field. If one student can pull an all-nighter with chemical help and another cannot, the grades stop being a measure of intelligence and start being a measure of access to medication. But on the other hand, many students feel like they have no choice. When the curve is high and the tuition is even higher, the pressure to perform becomes a survival instinct. We have created an academic environment that is so intense that students feel they need to “hack” their own biology just to keep up.

The real problem might not be the pills themselves, but the culture that makes them feel necessary. We should be asking why our workloads are designed in a way that makes normal human focus feel inadequate. Instead of just policing who is taking what, we need to have a conversation about the mental health toll of the “constant performance” model. If we need medication to meet the standard, maybe the standard is what needs to change.

Artificial intelligence (AI) is transforming how we live and work, but one of the most complex questions it raises is how it will affect youth employment. For young people stepping into the job market, AI feels both exciting and intimidating. On one hand, it promises efficiency, creativity, and entirely new industries. On the other, it threatens to replace entry-level jobs—the very positions that help young workers gain experience and start building their careers.

The fear that “robots will take our jobs” isn’t new, but what’s different now is the speed and scope of change. AI systems can perform not only physical labor but also tasks that require judgment and communication—skills that used to set humans apart. For example, customer service chatbots can now handle thousands of conversations simultaneously, while algorithms can screen job applications faster than any recruiter. For many young job seekers, this means the first rung of the career ladder is being replaced by software.

However, AI isn’t just eliminating jobs; it’s reshaping them. Many industries are seeing roles evolve rather than disappear. Marketing, healthcare, design, and even education are now filled with new positions that blend human creativity with AI tools. A graphic designer who once worked solely in Photoshop might now use AI to generate quick prototypes or explore dozens of design variations in seconds. In this way, AI can act as an assistant, not a rival—one that saves time and encourages experimentation. The problem is that not everyone has equal access to this technology or the training to use it effectively. Youth from underfunded schools or developing regions may find themselves left behind in a digital divide that keeps widening.

This is why education must adapt as quickly as technology does. Schools should focus less on rote memorization and more on critical thinking, adaptability, and digital literacy. Learning how to work with AI—understanding its strengths, limits, and biases—will become as essential as learning math or writing. Governments and companies can also help by investing in training programs and apprenticeships that prepare young people for hybrid jobs that combine human and machine intelligence.

Despite the challenges, the relationship between AI and youth employment doesn’t have to be negative. Young people today are more tech-savvy, creative, and globally connected than any generation before them. Many are already using AI tools to start businesses, create digital art, or solve social problems. With the right mindset and support, AI can become a platform for empowerment rather than exclusion.

In the end, AI is neither a job destroyer nor a miracle solution—it’s a tool, and like any tool, its impact depends on how we use it. For youth entering an uncertain world of work, the goal shouldn’t just be to survive the AI revolution, but to help shape it. The future of employment will belong not to those who fear technology, but to those who learn how to make it human.

Andrew Ohn