The new Democratic presidential candidate took the stage accompanied by a meme and music unfamiliar to many potential voters.

Vice President Kamala Harris, 59, walks a fine line between the young baby boomers and the older Generation X. But it was Generation Z that crowned her “Brat” after the latest album by British pop icon Charli XCX.

For the generations that automatically think of a spoiled child when they hear the word brat, several news outlets offered explanations of the word’s connotations in Generation Z. The Independent defined it as “an icon; an embrace of authenticity and confidence.”

The Brat meme was a hot hit on social media. Given the fleeting half-life of a meme, it’s probably already faded. Harris has undeniably energized voters, her campaign raising more than $120 million since its launch.

But she’s more than just fuel for content creators and internet warriors, she’s also giving a glimmer of hope to the demographic of women her age.

Electro-dance-pop is meaningless to us. Give us the iconic, rebellious and raw female power of Joan Jett, 65, and Alanis Morissette, 50, who are currently touring together.

Morissette, who has won seven Grammys and sold more than 75 million albums, hosted a show at the Hollywood Casino Amphitheatre in Maryland Heights, Missouri, where powerful feminist graphics flashed across every screen.

“No country has achieved gender equality,” appeared on the screen as she belted out the lyrics to “Hand in my Pocket.”

That message will be different when America has the chance to elect its first female president after Hillary Clinton, who won the majority of the vote, lost in the Electoral College in 2016.

That was before the protections of Roe v. Wade were struck down, when our daughters still had the same rights our mothers and grandmothers had fought for.

Now everything is different.

In January, a friend offered me a ticket to see Jagged Little Pill with her. My brain miscalculated and thought I was going to a Morissette concert, which I had never seen, rather than a Broadway musical. My husband informed me of my misunderstanding the morning of the show, after reading a preview of the jukebox musical in the newspaper. I had time to correct my course before I emerged into the well-heeled theater crowd in my ripped jeans.

When I learned the Morissette tour was coming to St. Louis, it felt like fate. I hadn’t thought much about her in decades, but we’re both living through a milestone year as the country stands at a turning point – an election that will shape us for generations.

Maybe I needed to re-listen to her discography, a soundtrack to my college days. The surprise hit from the JLP album, “You Oughta Know,” is a scornful, angry, and vulnerable message to a former lover. Over the decades, many of her original listeners have built stable relationships. We may find that the drama of the outside world is louder and occupies a larger space than the personal minefields of our 20s and 30s.

Politics has always been personal. But lately it has become so pervasive, angry and disturbing that it is hard to escape. We are on an emotional rollercoaster in a turbulent election campaign the likes of which many of us have never experienced before.

It was another Alanis classic that captured the political moment for those of us in this life cycle. You Learn is a compassionate reflection on dealing with the bad cards life deals you. You learn through living, loving, crying, losing and bleeding.

“Throw it down (Caution protects you from the wind)

Hold it up (to the rays)

Just wait and see when the smoke clears.”

In the days immediately following President Joe Biden’s abandonment of the presidential nomination, we were all waiting for the smoke to clear. I could sense how radically the political energy had shifted in the last few days.

The mood at the concert – a solidarity of uncompromising and fearless women – reflected a changed political mood.

I decided to test the waters by wearing a T-shirt I bought a few days after the Supreme Court’s blatantly political decision on presidential immunity. It’s a plain gray shirt with a quote from Justice Sonia Sotomayor written in white font: “Out of fear for our democracy, I dissent.”

I wanted to make a subtle statement that would be relatable to news junkies and political freaks to see if anyone would understand what I was trying to say. How many people at a rock concert would take the time to read an entire sentence on a stranger’s shirt?

At least one person did.

A boisterous blonde woman in the row directly in front of me, dancing to Jett’s rock anthems, looked me in the eye and pointed to my shirt. I pulled it down to straighten it so she could read the words.

She smiled, nodded in agreement and raised her hand horns in a rock’n’roll salute. Message delivered – Rock on, sister.

We screamed, we learned.