Understanding Generation Z — offline at home? - Living - Al-Ahram Weekly

Al-Ahram Weekly

11-07-2025

They may share their deepest thoughts with strangers online, but they say little at the family dinner table. What does Generation Z's emotional distance at home mean for Egyptian families, asks Omneya Yousry
It's a paradox of the modern household: a teenager laughs loudly at a phone screen, fingers tapping out clever replies on Instagram, only to turn silent when asked how their day went. In many Egyptian families today, the sound of silence between Generation Z teenagers and their parents is more common than many will admit.
The same young people who freely post about emotions, values, and even personal struggles online often offer only one-word answers when talking to other family members. It's not rebellion – it's retreat. And for many families, it feels like quiet heartbreak.
'I say more in my Instagram captions than I say to my parents all week,' said Rana, 19, a university student in Cairo. 'It's not that I don't love them. I just don't feel they'd get it. Or worse, they'll make it about them.'
She admitted that when she once told her mother she felt mentally drained, she was met with confusion. 'My mother said, 'you're too young to be tired.' After that, I stopped trying to communicate with her.'
The tension isn't always dramatic. Often, it's a quiet emotional distance, one made more visible by the contrast between digital presence and home absence. Many Generation Z'ers, raised in a global village online, may now struggle to find language that fits within their local family dynamics.
Marwan, 22, an Alexandria resident, says he's 'two different people.' One online, where he writes poetry and posts about mental health, and another at home, where he stays quiet to avoid conflict. 'My dad saw a post once and asked why I was writing 'weird things' online,' he said. 'He didn't mean any harm. He just doesn't get the language I use.'
Marwan shrugged and looked away for a moment. 'It's easier to just keep that part of me away from them,' he said.
And it's not just about mental health or deep emotional talk. Sometimes it's about identity, politics, or even humour. What feels completely normal and expressive to a Generation Z teen might sound like sarcasm or disrespect to a parent. The cultural gap is real.
This phenomenon of digital expression versus emotional disconnection has become part of a pattern, especially in Egyptian households that still value restraint over vulnerability. And while some see it as a phase that all teenagers go through, others fear it's creating a lasting gap between the generations.
Mona Al-Zayat, a 45-year-old mother from Cairo, said she often feels as if she's 'living with strangers.' She laughed softly, but there was a weight behind her words. 'I used to know everything – what they liked, who they talked to, what they were worried about. Now I ask, and they just say, 'nothing.''
She tried to keep up by creating a TikTok account and following them on Instagram but found that she was met with resistance. 'My daughter blocked me,' she said, managing a smile. 'She said that it's 'my space.' I thought I was being supportive.'
For many parents, the shift isn't only emotional. It's deeply personal. It's a feeling of loss or of being left behind by their own children. And unlike past generations, today's parents are navigating a parenting experience that has no blueprint, especially as the pace of social change accelerates.
This isn't just a family issue. It's a social one. Emotional fluency, self-expression, and mental health conversations are all happening more freely online, and Generation Z is leading the charge. But when those conversations are met with confusion or dismissal at home, many simply redirect their words to digital spaces.
Laila Sherif, a clinical psychologist in Cairo, sees patterns like this on a daily basis. 'This generation is not emotionally detached.
They're emotionally displaced,' she explained. 'They are speaking, but in environments where they feel they can express themselves without correction.
She noted that Egyptian family structures, rooted in respect and modesty, often unintentionally discourage emotional dialogue. 'If a teen says, 'I'm anxious,' and the response is 'you'll be fine, don't overthink things,' then that teen won't try to communicate again,' Sherif said.
The emotional risks aren't always visible, but they're there: loneliness, internalised pressure, and a growing sense of isolation inside one's own home. 'We need to stop asking, 'why don't they talk to us?' and start asking, 'what do they need to feel safe talking to us?'' Sherif added.
Back in Cairo, Nada, 17, said she wishes things could be different. 'Sometimes I just want to tell my mom about my day, or my thoughts, or even show her something I posted. But I stop myself. I think 'she'll just say it's silly.''
She paused. 'She's not mean. I just don't think she knows how to meet me where I am,' Nada said.
She shared that she sometimes feels more connected to strangers online than to people at home. 'I get messages from people saying, 'I feel this too.' That's all I want. Just someone to say, 'I get it.''
But not all stories end in silence. In Alexandria, Ahmed, the father of a 20-year-old son, said a health scare last year had changed the way he parented. 'Before, I used to ask questions like a policeman. 'Where were you? What are you doing on your phone?' But now, I just sit next to him. Sometimes I ask, 'are you okay?' and then I wait.'
The results surprised him. 'He didn't open up right away. But after a while, he started talking. Not everything, but enough.'
He added thoughtfully that 'I realised I don't have to know everything. I just need to make him feel like I'm safe to talk to.'
And that seems to be the real bridge: not grand gestures or forced conversations, but a quiet, patient presence. A kind of love that doesn't demand, but invites.
For many families, that may be the starting point – not fixing the emotional distance, but simply acknowledging it, gently, without shame. It's about making room for the quiet, for the awkward moments, for the chance that one day, the silence might break.
Because the truth is that Generation Z isn't silent. They're just choosing when and where to speak. And maybe, just maybe, the home can become one of those places again.
* A version of this article appears in print in the 10 July, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
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