Gen Z is keeping old fandoms alive on social media

I was 10 when the final season of One Tree Hill aired in 2012, not that I would have known. Back then, I was too busy watching Nickelodeon’s Victorious and reruns of That’s So Raven and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Now, I’m 20, and in between my busy university course load, I’ve spent the past three months indulging in the CW teen drama for the first time.

And I have social media to thank for introducing me to my new favorite show. 

One Tree Hill premiered in 2003, the era of low rise jeans and corny teen melodrama, and it’s about the fictional town of Tree Hill, North Carolina, and the group of friends who inhabit it. 

However, it wasn’t until this past August that I discovered its existence via a fan-made Twitter edit that compared the show’s long-standing relationship between Haley and Nathan to All American’s Simone and Jordan. I was immediately intrigued and invested. Then, I realized: These fan accounts across video platforms like Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok are responsible for keeping the “OTH” fandom alive — bringing in new fans, like myself, and spreading the gospel of Tree Hill online with edits of Brooke and Lucas (aka “Brucas”) to Olivia Rodrigo’s “drivers license.”  

The show weaves together the stories of white teens navigating high school, the pains of adolescence, and eventually, adulthood. At the center of its tangled web are half-brothers Nathan and Lucas, who share nothing in common except their mutual love of basketball and their contempt for their biological dad. But true fans know that at the heart of the show are the three young women who orbit their lives: Brooke, Peyton, and Haley. It’s a whirlwind of angst, full of classic teen tropes like rain speeches and love triangles. 

These fan accounts across video platforms like Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok are responsible for keeping the ‘OTH’ fandom alive.

As a Naley shipper, I’m deeply invested in the romance between Haley and Nathan. It’s a typical “popular jock falls for the bookish girl next door” relationship, but with the added drama of marriage, teen pregnancy, and a megalomaniac father. It’s their evolution from unlikely friends to lovers, as well as Brooke’s transformation from queen bee to total boss, that keeps me hooked on the show and these characters. 

And while engaging in a teen show from the early aughts presents its own set of challenges and faux pas — mainly, the lack of diversity across race and identity (this is a very white, very straight show) — I try to view it from the lens of 2003. We’re currently spoiled for choice when it comes to reflecting on early 2000s pop culture, and it’s something that I’m grateful for because burrowing into nostalgia has been my way of coping with seemingly endless pandemic fatigue. 

SEE ALSO: TikTok’s nostalgia-fueled obsession with the early 2000s

Streaming platforms like Hulu, where you can stream all nine seasons of One Tree Hill, made it possible for Gen Z fans like myself to dive into a time period where things seem far more simple than they do now. It’s not about wanting a Millennial childhood or replicating those exact experiences, but more so, being nostalgic for a time that seemed so much simpler and less stressful than the one I’m currently living through. 

It’s soothing to watch films and TV shows about high schoolers and college kids coming of age without the threat of a global pandemic or a looming climate crisis. Also, you can’t watch modern teen shows like Never Have I Ever and On My Block without the inclusion of social media — it’s an inescapable part of our lives, and TV rarely gets it right — but on One Tree Hill, no one is glued to their Instagram feeds or FYPs because those apps didn’t exist yet. What a relief. (Though, you could call Peyton Sawyer an early influencer with her nightly Punk and Disorderly webcasts.) 

Still, it’s so satisfying to watch teen characters just talk to each other and actually interact. It’s why me and my internet friends are so addicted to it.

I get so much joy when I see the characters talking on flip phones or using cassette tapes.

“One Tree Hill is my comfort,” 20-year-old Sarah tells Mashable. She currently runs a Naley fan account on Instagram (@naleysbff), with 14.7k followers. “I didn’t watch the show until quarantine, and running a ‘OTH’ fan account makes me the happiest.” 

“There’s something so special about watching a show where people just talk to each other,” she adds. “It doesn’t have to be over the top, they just live. The show begins with them as teens, transitions into adulthood, and I feel like I’ve been on this journey with them and watched them grow up.” 

And it’s the lack of social media and smartphones that appeals to her most. For Sarah, a life pre-social media is only a distant, childhood memory. “It was such a simple time in my life and brings me back to my happy place,” she says. “I get so much joy when I see the characters talking on flip phones or using cassette tapes.” 

SEE ALSO: Is Gen Z bringing flip phones back?

Though, Sarah acknowledges that without modern technology, like streaming services, she never would have been able to watch the show, and platforms like Instagram are now helping her connect to fans, new and old, from around the world. “There’s a high chance that I would’ve never seen [it],” she reasons. But she’s happy she did. “From this account, I’ve been able to express my love for the show and make genuine friendships.” 

Another fan who runs an Instagram fan account, and who would prefer to remain anonymous, says that these social media pages, and the memes and edits they create, ensure a future for the fandom — not by catering to older fans, but by creating new ones. 

“I love how fan pages keep the show alive with different types of edits,” the 18-year-old says. “I actually started watching the show last year, and my fan account acts as a way for people to interact and share opinions even though the show isn’t airing.” 

We’re living in the age of reboots, remakes, and revivals, but there’s something nice about watching the original series. I may be engaging with this content 18 years after it aired, but I’m able to bring my own perspective as a young person navigating life in 2021 to my viewing experience. And it’s not like I’m watching it alone: My social feeds are flooded with stan accounts that are obsessing over it too.

We have the Drama Queens podcast, too — hosted by One Tree Hill’s Bethany Joy Lenz, Hilarie Burton, and Sophia Bush. In weekly episodic installments, the women discuss their experiences filming One Tree Hill, which we know was traumatic for them, and the show’s messier themes. 

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In their fight to reclaim the series as theirs, they candidly talk about the highs and the lows, from dealing with on-set misogyny and harassment to pointedly critiquing some of the thornier issues of Season 1, like in the eighth episode when Peyton’s drink was spiked at a college party. “I wish we were able to take a whole episode to work out that storyline and all the implications of that because it felt a bit glossed over,” Burton, who portrayed surly Peyton Sawyer, said on the podcast. 

“So many of you have trusted us with your narratives and with the things that have happened in your personal lives aside from the show, we hope, girl to girl, that you have the resources and the support system to deal with it,” she added. 

It’s this kind of vulnerability, as seen through the characters and the actors themselves, that keeps me watching. It’s not a perfect show. In fact, it’s far from it. But I can still relate to characters like Brooke Davis, a complex young woman who wasn’t defined by her mistakes. Bush fought hard for Brooke’s development and gave us a confident, self-aware character we’ve grown to love. 

With One Tree Hill, I don’t need to ‘see’ myself, as a Black girl, in the show to enjoy it. It’s the meaningful stories, intimate friendships, and the simplicity of life in the early 2000s that matter most to me. And if I can make new, online friends through our mutual love of an old show, then even better.