“It really shows who cares enough to put you on their page.” “Happy birthday posts are a pretty big deal,” she says. Now she’s on her own page, checking the comments beneath a photo of her friend Aisha, which she posted for Aisha’s birthday. Her school doesn’t offer a math course challenging enough for her, so she takes honors algebra online through Johns Hopkins University. School is where she thrives: She is beloved by her teachers, will soon star as young Simba in the eighth-grade performance of “The Lion King” musical, and gets straight A’s. Black leggings, too, except at her private school, where she has to wear uncomfortable dress pants. She is 5-foot-1 but will have a growth spurt soon, or so said her dad, Dave, in a very awkward talk he had with her about puberty even after she told him, “Please, don’t.” She is not sure how Converse shoes became cool, but it’s what happened, so she is almost always wearing them. Her family is wealthier than most and has seen more sorrow. She has light brown eyes, which she only paints with makeup for dances, where there are boys from other schools. She has the cheeks of a middle schooler and the vocabulary of a high schooler. Then people can look at it and say ‘Oh, she’s nice and pretty.’ ” If someone says, ‘tbh you’re nice and pretty,’ that kind of, like, validates you in the comments. “It kind of, almost, promotes you as a good person. The ones that don’t get enough likes, don’t have good enough lighting or don’t show the coolest moments in her life must be deleted. There are only 25 photos on her page because she deletes most of what she posts. The best thing is the little notification box, which means someone liked, tagged or followed her on Instagram. You just comment to make a joke or tag someone.” Now she’s on it in the living room of her big house in McLean, Va., while she explains what it’s like to be a 13-year-old today. She sets it down to play basketball, to skateboard, to watch PG-13 comedies and sometimes to eat dinner, but when she picks it back up, she might have 64 unread messages. She’s on it while her 8-year-old sister, Lila, is building crafts out of beads. She’s on it at school, when she can sneak it. She’s on it after it rings to wake her up in the mornings. Katherine Pommerening’s iPhone is the place where all of her friends are always hanging out. Katherine was born in 2002, meaning she is a member of what’s being called Generation Z.
Katherine Pommerening in the front seat of her family’s station wagon. She feels the bump of the driveway and looks up. She watches a YouTube star make pouty faces at the camera. She watches a sparkly rainbow flow from her friend’s mouth. Rick Scott, which she scrolls past to get to a story about Janet Jackson, then “28 Things You’ll Understand If You’re Both British and American.” She closes it. Then another meme, and she closes the app. She doesn’t respond, her thumb on Instagram. A 13-year-old girl after a day of eighth grade. She slides into the car, and even before she buckles her seat belt, her phone is alight in her hands.