Albany

You've heard variations on this theme: “When I was your age we had to walk 2 miles to school, even in the snow, no one complained.”

Or: “We only had three TV channels to choose from, unless you considered educational TV.”

Maybe: “We listened to real rock ’n’ roll, not the electronic dance garbage that people listen to today.”

It goes on, but the reality is that things do change as a new generation comes along, graduates from high school and goes off to college or the world of work.

High school seniors, 17 and 18 years old, will make their mark and by the time their kids go through high school, it will be a far different place, just as it was for their parents’ generation.

Consider this: Most of the members of the Class of 2018 have never used a pay phone, driven a stick shift or adjusted the antenna on a TV.

They’ve had regular “lockdown” drills throughout their school years, but few seem to worry much about being shooting  victims themselves.

They’ve also lived most of their life with the United States at war in Iraq and Afghanistan. But unlike kids who came of age in the '60s and early '70s, there was no draft, and war is for the most part far from their minds.

The idea of free time is almost quaint, at least for kids who took part in a variety of activities and who are college-bound. Some of them could face mortgage-sized debts when they finish college.

To get a sense of these changes we spoke to students and in some cases, their parents, from Albany High School, Columbia High School in East Greenbush and Scotia-Glenville High School.

At Albany High, Zaeqwan Cancer is headed to SUNY Morrisville; twins Calena and Gabrielle Rodriguez of Albany to SUNY Potsdam and Plattsburgh, respectively; and Thomas Ottaway to Brown University.

Columbia High’s Nikhil Bhat is going to SUNY Stony Brook; Emma Barton-Schwartz to George Mason University; and Nic Stagnitta to Rochester Institute of Technology.

Scotia-Glenville’s Mary Kate Palleschi is attending Skidmore College and Lauren Zeglen is going to Rochester Institute of Technology.

Here are some of their views.

Social media may not be so great after all.

Some students expressed ambivalence toward the social media that saturates their lives. While their smartphones may be all-but-attached at the hip, several said the sheer amount of time spent on social media can be corrosive.

“It takes them away from the real world,” said Cancer. A linebacker on the football team, Cancer cut off his Facebook usage for two months after the season because of the abuse heaped on the Falcons for their poor showing (they were 0-9 last year). These days, he said, fewer and fewer students use Facebook, having moved on to other formats.

“I spend too much time on Instagram and Snapchat,” said Calena Rodriguez. “I can definitely go without my phone,” said her twin sister, Gabrielle.

“It takes up a lot of peoples’ lives,” said Ottaway, who has his smartphone filled with photos and music rather than social media apps.

Bhat still remembers being startled a few years ago when he saw a 5-year-old child at the mall, taking a call on his smartphone, then crisply putting it back on his belt clip. “What is this? A little businessman?” Bhat wondered.

That got classmates Barton-Schwartz and Stagnitta wondering about the next generation and those coming up after them.

Barton-Schwartz recalled the sight of a toddler with an iPad. "That bothers me," she said. “I feel like the generation behind us might rely on technology too much,” said Stagnitta.

Zeglen extols the virtues of taking notes by hand, citing studies that shows students absorb more that way.

Columbine, Sandy Hook, Parkland and other mass shootings changed the nature of school.

In the Capital Region, Columbia may have the most experience with armed intruders – in 2004 a 14-year-old student opened fire with a shotgun, hitting a teacher in the leg before being tackled by the principal and a teacher. The school installed a secure entry chamber. But it is not alone.

Schools are locked during the day and regular active shooter or armed intruder drills are a fact of life. Yet few students said they worried about a mass shooting. “I feel pretty comfortable,”  Stagnitta said. “I feel it is a threat but not at our school,” said Bhat.

At Scotia-Glenville, a threat was made during an anti-gun-violence walk-out in March. It turned out to be unfounded but social media and texting among students amplified the rumor. “Things spread so quickly,” Zeglen said. “You never know if it’s true,” said Palleschi.

One side effect of the security push is that fewer kids are out on the streets heading to school in the morning. Bus stops these days can be remarkably close together and students stay on campus, even for lunch.

Palleschi’s mother, Maureen Palleschi, recalls walking home for lunch in kindergarten and first grade in Yonkers. “My mom would wave at the door. There’d be tons of kids walking,” said Palleschi, who graduated from high school in 1983.

“We got to leave for lunch,” said Nic Stagnitta’s mother, Sharron Stagnitta, a 1978 graduate of the now-defunct St. Patrick’s Catholic High School in Catskill.

“We have crazy security,” said Gabrielle Rodriguez, describing the metal detector wands that hall monitors wield and locked interior doors.

Learning isn’t limited to the classroom.

For motivated students, plenty of learning takes place outside of class.

Cancer is studying for a barber’s license at local shops, since he’d like to be able to cut hair as a part-time job once he’s at Morrisville.

Ottaway has taken online courses teaching himself the Python computer programming language. He took a physics course at the University at Albany.

Palleschi can study with friends on Facetime and she uses the You Tube-based Khan Academy as well. She took a course through the New Visions program, shadowing health care workers at Ellis Hospital.

No one gets excited about driving or cars.   

The students for the most part exhibited none of the urgency or excitement about getting their driver's licenses (although they had them) or their own cars.

For some, it borders on a chore.  Barton-Schwartz has her license but her twin brother doesn’t. “I just drive him everywhere,” she said.

Thomas relies on his bike and the Albany bus system. “It’s not part of the culture anymore,” said Thomas. Instead, students obsess over their smartphones. “Having one of the newer cellphones is a thing.”

Students are painfully aware of all the tests they've taken since third grade.

They have a hard time making sense of that and say they've been whiplashed by the ever-changing regimens handed down from the state whether it was Common Core or the Next Generation of learning standards or seemingly endless changes in test requirements.

“Our class has been the guinea pigs,” Calena Rodriguez said, referring to changes in the math tests they experienced from one year to the next. Testing kids in third grade, she added is “ridiculous.”

“Third grade, I think, is a little too young,” said Ottaway.

Getting into and paying for college is more daunting than ever.

The students and their parents all note how hard it’s gotten, especially for those seeking admission to well-known schools.

“The competition in our class, academically, between the top 30 kids is so close,” said Stagnitta.

Then there’s the cost.

“We’re not children. We’re investments,” said Palleschi. Her mom, Maureen, recalls how her dad, a New York City bus driver, was able to put her through Fordham University. Her siblings  went through college as well without much worry about loans or debt loads. For kids today, seeking out scholarships grants and then loans is a job in itself.

And top students are by no means assured a place at high-level schools.

“From my generation, for a kid like my son it was obvious where he was going to school,” said Celina Ottaway, a former Times Union reporter, writing coach and mother of Thomas.  “It’s not that way anymore.” She graduated high school in 1987 and marvels at how ferocious  the competition for admission at an Ivy League school like Brown is these days.

“For this generation, there is absolutely no guarantee,” she said.

Rkarlin@timesunion.com 518 454 5758