The TikTok Generation: Life in Lockdown

Covid-19 has done away with all the closeness of childhood friendship. When lockdown began, all the bumps and scrapes of playground football, the shared creation of make-believe worlds, the jostle of skipping races and hastily choreographed dance routines, were replaced by a sort of house arrest.

When I was a child, with only dial-up Internet and no access to a mobile phone, this would have meant months of total isolation from all of my classmates. My friendships were sustained by the surety of school, and its endless iterations of the same games and jokes. They would never have weathered the upheaval of a global pandemic.

Things are, of course, very different now. Although children still play like every generation before them, most also have easy access to phones and tablets, and I wanted to know how these technological possibilities had influenced their approach to lockdown life.

So, I spoke to two Year 5 pupils from Cheshire, Holly and Eve, 10, who told me how they had tackled the social and academic impact of so many months of isolation.

Never one for stoicism, Holly immediately announces that her experience of lockdown has been “terrible”, with Eve describing hers as “horrific”. Neither has been personally affected by Covid itself, and it soon becomes clear that this damning appraisal stems not from fear or unhappiness, but from boredom.

Their attitude is true of many young people, for whom the virus has remained a distant, nebulous threat, unlikely to touch them or their families. In early May, one in five children were reporting feelings of boredom, while only one in twenty were actually worried by the situation.

Similarly, an international Save the Children study found that, while 70% of Finnish children surveyed had felt “anxious” during lockdown, only 20% of British children were “worried about the future.”

For Holly and Eve, who are both the only children living at home, the main problem has been lockdown’s forced separation from friends. Although they are now allowed to meet up in small groups, social distancing has made playing difficult, and their beloved sleepovers and birthday parties are still firmly off the cards.

They point out that, under normal circumstances, they would spend play dates inside each other’s houses, but Covid has forced them to think again. Now, one of the only options is to go for a walk, but, as Eve tells me vehemently: “I hate walks.”

Holly agrees, “They are horrible. I despise them too. I wake up and I think: “Wait, I didn’t go on a walk yesterday. This means I have to go on one today.” And then I just get back into bed!”

Holly (left) and Eve (right) stick to social distancing while they play outside

The girls film a TikTok

Spending so much time at home, and away from their peers, has filled both girls with a sense of apathy, which has been exacerbated by their experience of home-schooling.

Holly complains that “it’s so hard to get out of bed” in the morning, while Eve tells me that her handwriting has suffered from months of computer-oriented tasks.

“Her handwriting was so neat, and now she can’t write,” Holly adds helpfully.

They both feel that they work more efficiently in school, where their teachers maintain a sense of purpose, untangling any confusing concepts and keeping them focused on the task in hand.

Eve also appreciates being able to puzzle things out with friends, while Holly finds it useful to map her own progress and understanding against that of her classmates.

At home, on the other hand, schoolwork can feel isolating and directionless. Although their tablets and computers afford them access to a wealth of learning resources, screens are a poor substitute for the immediacy of the classroom, and offer little solace in the travails of solitary learning.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, when I ask how many hours of work they have been doing each day, I am met with slightly sheepish silence. Eve ventures: “I can’t really say I’ve been doing hours. I’ve probably been doing 30 minutes.”

Holly begins boldly with: “I probably do two and half hours a day,” but then, noticing her dad’s incredulous expression, revises her claim, conceding, “OK, maybe two hours. I do do two hours Dad!”

The girls’ lack of enthusiasm is not unusual. Home-schooling has proved to be a largely fruitless battle for many families, with the UCL Institute for Education suggesting that one in five pupils have done almost no work in lockdown.

Youth development charity, Power2, also found that 62% of children were finding it difficult to remain motivated to do schoolwork.

You would, therefore, be forgiven for assuming that the idea of returning to real school life, after so many months of stultifying monotony, would fill any child with relief and excitement.

In this case, it most certainly does not.

“I just want to stop school altogether now,” Holly admits.

She explains that lockdown, with its lie-ins and late nights, its relaxed and flexible days, has destroyed any sense of discipline or routine. The thought of starting back in Year 6 has therefore become a source of dread.

“Especially waking up at half 8; that will be hard,” winces Eve.

I wonder whether the relative freedom of lockdown learning has enabled them to learn some new skills.

“My mum now trusts me to bake cupcakes on my own,” says Eve. “But I also tried to make hot chocolate in the microwave and I put it in for one minute and it bubbled over and went all over the place.”

Holly adds: “I’ve been doing more cooking, baking and colouring, but then I’ve been doing more on my phone as well”, and Eve jokes: “my mum said I might as well glue my phone to my hand from how much I’m using it!”

They then reel off a quick-fire list of the many apps they have been using to keep in touch over lockdown. From TikTok duets to Facetime calls, Whatsapp group chats to Snapchat streaks, they have eked all possible benefit from every available media platform, using them to support and enrich their friendships.

Ofcom estimates that, under normal circumstances, the average 8-11-year-old would spend 4.5 hours a day in front of a screen of some sort. Holly and Eve think that, in lockdown, theirs has sometimes reached five or six hours, although Eve adds: “if I counted my TV time as well, it would be more like 14 hours!”

They have played drawing games over Scribbl, made up their own strategic code on Fortnite, and tried their hand at dance challenges on TikTok.

“I don’t know how many Pinterest boards I’ve made throughout lockdown,” enthuses Eve, “I’ve made one for bedroom, clothes, hair, makeup and skin. I have a pink pastels aesthetic, I have a purple aesthetic, I have an orange aesthetic and I have a blue aesthetic.”

No matter how obscure or seemingly irrelevant the site is, Holly and Eve have almost definitely used it, as they scour the Internet on the hunt for entertainment and interaction.

While unable to see each other in person, these technological savants have effortlessly translated their social lives into the online world, honing its services to their purpose.

I realise that, despite the physical proximity demanded by some of their favourite activities, Holly and Eve were better equipped for lockdown than most adults. After all, they are part of the TikTok generation, who have grown up with an innate expertise in all things tech-related.

Unlike the children of 10 or 20 years ago, their friendships exist as much inside a screen as in real life, a fact which has allowed them to continue, largely uninterrupted, throughout the drudgery of lockdown.