I can tell you with total assurance that these comments are missing the larger picture. For this is not just Jason’s story. This is, in many ways, the story of countless teenage boys and girls, both younger and older than you might think possible, across the country, across demographics, across socioeconomic strata.
This could be your child.
And the conventional solutions miss the mark as well, and are not really solutions at all.
Let me tell you more about Jason. He was a stellar athlete in grammar school, but quit sports around sixth grade. He earned straight A’s until roughly that same time. He hung out with friends, perfected moves on his skateboard, and tells idyllic stories of vacations with his family. He was the Academic All-American, the kid you want.
By junior high, as his parents describe it, the wheels started to wobble. He was looking down at his phone, engulfed in Snapchat and Instagram, overinvested in numbers of likes and views. He became deeply ensconced in video games, about which they knew nothing other than that they seemed unreasonably violent, and he seemed flat-out addicted to playing them. The rest of the time, he skulked up to his room and shut the door, the remainder of his day and evening shrouded in mystery.
Now, as far as they were concerned, Jason’s parents weren’t negligent. They were worried about him, so they tracked his phone whenever he was out, keeping watch over the moving blip on the map like military drone pilots, ready to strike and call the mission at any moment that looked dicey. They signed on daily to the school’s grade portal, collecting intel on not only cumulative grades, but each class skipped, each assignment missed, each quiz failed. Through a YouTube tutorial, they reverse-engineered passcodes for his phone and social media, allowing them real-time access to his texts, social media posts, and responses. They maintained a store of breathalyzers and drug tests in the medicine cabinet.
They amassed all the data that could possibly be available to a parent.
Alas, all they learned was that he was disengaged from school, disappearing into some “drug culture,” and slipping deeper into connections with his new “low-life, going nowhere” friends. And he was drifting further and further away from them. They felt as if, no matter what wisdom they offered, how often they addressed him in a positive tone, or whatever lightness they tried to bring to their relationships with him, he was drifting away.
And as far as they were concerned, they were doing it right. They had read my first book diligently. They had attended parenting conferences. Jason’s sister had turned out fine, so they were doing something right. They showed enormous faith in him on a regular basis, telling him they knew he could do better, in school, in choosing friends. This was keeping the bar high, right? This was proof that they had faith in him.
But if this method is supposed to work, then where is he, right? Where is our sweet, perfect guy?
Herein lies the quandary for the modern parent. We are scared. We are lost. We are feeling around in the dark, tracking the information we can, hoping to find our child, intact and safe.
Like Jason, today’s teenagers are, for the most part, a mystery to us parents. Let’s start by solving the mystery, bit by bit, as best we can. Then we can talk about what agency we have as parents to make things better.
And trust me. No matter what issues you might be struggling with, as a parent, as a family, things can get better.
I worked with a father and son late one evening recently. Dad was earnestly, admirably trying to connect with his struggling son, letting him know he understood what he was going through, and was familiar with his experience. After all, he was sixteen once, and it wasn’t all that long ago.
But in his son’s mind, he never was.
The emotional weight of being a teenager in today’s world bears only a faint resemblance to our experiences as teenagers a generation ago. I find that this is a critical concept that is very difficult for parents to understand and accept. Now, when I talk to groups of parents, I receive a lot of pushback on this concept.
“Of course, I was a full-fledged teenager. I felt that emotional weight. I felt that insecurity, in my body, in my personality, in my very being.”
And yes, to an extent, we can relate. But the truth is, you were never this teenager.
Our teenage concerns, free of the weight of social media “likes,” the pace of online chaos, the overarching academic pressures, and the wildly unreasonable body-image demands, are artifacts of an era gone by. All of these factors play into the self-esteem and the daily measurement of self-worth of the typical teenager, tween-aged child, or young adult today.
So, the bad news is that you’ve got a lot to learn. The good news is that you have teachers, likely right down the hall from you right now. Addressed openly and without an agenda, your children will likely be happy to introduce you to the complications of their daily lives.
And trust me, the stakes are high. You need that introduction into their ever-changing world. And you’ll need follow-up as well. Otherwise, you are parenting from a handbook with wildly outdated information. Not only might you be unaware of the nuances of the ills of vaping versus Juuling, but the nature of social pressures, future fears, and sometimes hopelessness may elude you as well.
So, ask the questions that may scare you. Listen to the answers, even if they are not what you want to hear. That way, your child will know you are there for her, to walk by her side, through the unpredictable tangle of adolescence.
Your child needs you. Now more than ever.
I encourage you to go to school on this next generation. Sometime in the car, or during breakfast, or before bed, ask them.
Ask them what their friends are up to these days. Ask about kids their age. Be curious; do not interrogate.
“What are other kids doing? Are they smoking, drinking, vaping? Are they having sex? Is anyone super-depressed, self-harming? Is there anyone you’re worried about?”
“How do you feel about it all? What are you doing?”
And most importantly, “How are you doing?”
These may seem like very dramatic questions, but I can virtually promise you, your child will be more comfortable than you are talking about this stuff. And it’s crucial that you find that comfort zone in yourself, breathe deeply, ask, and talk. It’s the only way I know to create that elusive collaboration with your teenager, and she needs that. With you.
Keep asking. Create an easy, open line of communication. Speak your piece and let her speak hers. Let the resounding thought she’s left with be, “No matter what, I’ve got your back. You can come to me.”
This is precisely the approach I encouraged for this dad the other night. I know that, if he follows that advice, he can put me out of business in his son’s life quickly and forge that connection and collaboration.
First, believe it or not, we have to revisit what we mean when we use the term “teenager.” Since the coining of the term, it has always demarcated a stage of physical development, as well as a shift in self-awareness and emotional development. On the emotional side, the primary challenge faced during adolescence
