It's easy to support teenagers when you support teenagers. Sound like circular reasoning? It’s not supposed to. It means I’m not pretending. I really do support teenagers. I support their curiosity, their ambition, their thinking, their timetable. I don’t need to act supportive: I am supportive. And this is key to building a relationship with a young person as they navigate their college application season.
I believe in teenagers. I always have. I’m not saying they're always right: I’m saying I believe in them, and that’s not the same thing. I believe they will get where they need to go, missteps, sidesteps, backsteps, and all. I trust that teenagers have profound insights, can know themselves if we let them, and will slide into the driver’s seat when we get out of their way. The irony with that metaphor is I didn’t teach one of my four children to drive. So, I may not like being literally in their passenger seat (I don’t want to be in your child’s car either.), but I do let young people, mine included, construct themselves and their lives.
The work of the adolescent is to design a meaningful existence. To build their personality. To challenge their fears. To embrace their quirks. To be who they’re meant to be. I support this essential work. If adults don’t encourage and nourish the crucial business of constructing an original personality, teenagers struggle to set goals, form relationships, make decisions, and move forward. So, yes, I’m all about supporting teenagers in their efforts to know who they are and what they want.
It’s also easy to say, “It doesn’t matter where you go to college: it matters what you do when you get there,” if you really believe it. You might think I’m shooting my career in its proverbial foot with that claim, but I won’t lie. What matters is what a student does at college. Do they take courses that matter to them? Do they work hard, really hard? Do they ask questions, lots of them? Do they connect with their peers and professors? Do they think deeply about their “one wild and precious life”? If the answers to these questions are yes, I don’t care where they spend their four years (or three or five or whatever). I care that they make the most of their college experience.
It’s easy to like teenagers when you like teenagers. (I love tweens too!) And I really wish it were easier to be a teenager today. I wish they worried less and laughed more. I wish scrolling didn’t rob them of so much — their creativity, their confidence. I wish they were only distracted by daydreaming, and I wish they knew how funny they are. To say we adults have made a mess of childhood and teen life would be an understatement, and I would need a lot more space to walk out that analysis than I’m granted here, for our attention spans are shrinking as well.
Please join me in supporting teenagers as they navigate their college application season. Juniors are thinking about next steps. They may not admit it (Let’s ask ourselves why.), but I know they’re feeling as though an ominous force is blowing from behind. Stand with me against dread, against insecurity, against stress. It should be fun to be a junior in high school. It should be exciting to talk about colleges, programs, and careers. Writing college applications is work, but it’s good work. Let’s show them that. It’s easy, if you believe it.
photo credit @Ran Berkovich
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