Borrowed Thoughts

The following is an edited excerpt from a letter I wrote for our parent newsletter.

Let’s face it—I am an idealist. I don’t want to believe that our teens face such hard times here in rural, small-town America. I want to think drug use, alcoholism, domestic abuse, promiscuity, homelessness, violence, and the like are “big city” problems. I tend to use “the ostrich head in the sand” life view—if I don’t see it, it’s not there.

Don’t you wish life for our teens could be more like the “Happy Days” TV series, where life challenges were not life threatening. Oh, I know Richie, Potsie, and Ralph had problems, but just enough to keep the series going. There were no car wrecks, no drug addicts, and any risky behavior gave way to sodas at Arnolds. That is what I wish was reality.

I especially wish that kids stayed kids while they are kids. What I see is a far different world—a world that pushes little girls to grow up too fast and, at the same time, prevents many young men from reaching a genuine maturity. In the middle of those two realities, are years of dangerous games, risky behavior, irresponsibility, pain, and family heartache.

I wonder if the Barbie doll helped start the girl part—little girls pretending to be teenagers with fabulous clothes and appearance being their basis for acceptance. Barbie was joined a few years ago by BRATZ dolls, complete with heavy eyeshadow, lush glossy lips, and sleazy clothing.

And then there is Disney. In earlier days, there were Mickey Mouse-type cartoons. More recently, Disney has picked up on the trend of little girls wanting to be teen-like and found a gold mine in promoting teen stars in TV series and movies, which fuel a desire in the very young to date, go to prom, and fall in love. They want to be like Hannah Montana, Troy and Gabriella, or Jonas Brothers or live in a hotel suite or on a cruise ship with no parents. While I have to give the shows credit for being pretty clean, they still push a high school lifestyle to kids in early grades. I won’t even go into the Wizards.

My fear is that if kids see themselves as “teenagers” at ages 9, 10, 11, and 12, what will they be when they become teens? Will they, in order to seek more thrills, move into the dark substance abuse culture with the lemonade stands out on country roads? Will we then have more pregnant teens, throw-away babies, young addicts, messed-up lives, and families in crisis?

On the other end, I see boys in their mid to late twenties (or older) still obsessed with their drinking parties and their much larger, more expensive toys—unable or unwilling to grow up into responsible men.

What a conundrum! Girls growing up too fast and boys not growing up at all; and, there in the middle, lots of tears and heartaches.

Somewhere in high school (or even middle school) a young person can make a bad choice. It may start by thinking the wrong thoughts. It may be choosing the wrong friend. It may be going to the wrong place one night. But somewhere, there is one step in the wrong direction. A second step in that direction comes easier than the first. The third, the fourth, and subsequent steps feel increasingly natural until the two paths—the right and the wrong—are worlds apart. Actions have consequences; seeds produce a harvest.

Do you see why I wish Howard and Marian Cunningham could call Richie and Joanie to supper and things would be all right? It was only a TV show, but I can wish that life was that simple.

I am happy to say that some kids make it through the teenage storm season with fewer permanent bumps and bruises. I think the best weapons to accomplish this are strong family bonds, a solid basis of faith in God, extra-curricular activities with good role models, and an encouraging support system.

Some advice from one who has been there: if you have a teen or pre-teen, give them a big hug often, keep communications lines open, live your faith in plain sight, seek to help them grow up at the right time—and oh, two more: do all you can to help them make wise choices and take them for a soda at Arnolds.