Saturday, October 25, 2008

Sensitive Topics

Do you trust your 13-year-old’s ability to judge for himself or herself the content of a book that discusses one or more sensitive topics like teen sex? Many parents of 13-year-olds do not. I’m pleased to say I trust my 13-year-old son in that regard. The other day I gave my son the library copy of The Teenage Guy’s Survival Guide by Jeremy Daldry.

Does that mean I would give him any book that covers such topics to read? No. If I hand my young teenage son a book covering one or more sensitive topics, I communicate a degree of implicit agreement and approval.

Does that mean I would only give him books with which I am in substantial agreement when it comes to sensitive topics? No it doesn’t. The best way to communicate my values to my son is to talk to him about those values myself. And the content of a book can be what launches that discussion. But I still want to be careful about what I give him. Below is my “selection criteria” for such books.
  1. The subject matter is maturity appropriate. Some 13-year-olds show no evidence of entering puberty, walk around the house with toys in their hands and still think the opposite gender is boring at best. For those 13-year-olds, there is no point in giving them a book like The Teenage Guy’s Survival Guide.
  2. The content is mainstream. In other words, my son is going to hear these perspectives that differ from mine anyway—unless I keep him in a bubble all his life. Better to let his exposure to these ideas come at the time and venue of my choosing, rather than someone else’s.
  3. Arguments are non-manipulative. The controversy over the legality of abortion is a case in point. Too many works either accuse members of the pro-life camp of wanting to strip women of their freedom and equality, or accuse members of the pro-choice camp of wanting as many abortions as possible. While in a world of billions I’m sure there are at least a few people who think these ways, I’ve certainly never met any. Instead the true debate is a tension between differing and strongly-held values regarding what constitutes civil rights and human dignity. I have no interest in letting anyone—whether I agree with them or not—try to shame or bully my son into agreement.
When I handed Dalty’s book to my son, I merely said, "I do not completely agree with this author's perspective on every issue, but I trust you to think about the content of this book intelligently. And we can talk about some of the more sensitive stuff later." What are the sensitive topics? There are four: Teen sex, homosexuality, masturbation and pornography.

Most parents have a strong opinion on most if not all of these issues. In each case, Daldry discusses teens engaging in such activities in a way that sounds non-judgmental, but often contains valid warnings. With pornography for example, he gives the following warnings.
  1. It is illegal for teens to purchase pornography.
  2. Most women (especially moms) will react negatively if they discover a teen boy engages pornography.
  3. Many people consider pornography exploitive.
  4. Pornographic images are generally taller, thinner, more developed, enhanced by makeup, unhealthy practices and sometimes even surgery, rather than being representative of a normal healthy woman’s (or man’s) body.
  5. While it is easy to open the pages of a pornographic magazine, it is a lot better to form a real relationship with a real person--even if it takes more time and more work.
Admittedly, it was not too bad. But I suspect a lot of parents would want to augment. I certainly did. And a few evenings later (after he’d devoured the book from cover to cover) we had our chat. And the lines of communication are better for it.
At some point, my son is going to discover his parents cannot constantly police him or control his choices. I’ve chosen to tell him that fact before he discovers it for himself. At this stage in his life, I want him to develop his own values while I still can be a strong influence
Is that scary? Of course it is scary. But as I stated at the beginning, I trust my son. Do you trust your young teen?

Saturday, October 18, 2008

The Apprentice Helmsman’s Test

As a young teen I had the privilege of attending an overnight sailing camp. The camp had all the trappings of traditional summer camp: swimming, archery, tennis, wood shop, pottery, a trampoline, etc. But the main focus of the camp was sailing.

Over the years the camp had developed a sophisticated sailing program that even included training kids (who got to that level) how to steer a sailboat without a rudder. The training system was broken up into two sections: core skills and advanced skills.

To successfully complete the first of the five levels within the advanced skills section, one had to pass what was called The Apprentice Helmsman’s Test (AHT). The AHT was unlike any test I’d ever taken before because it was not a skills test. Anyone taking the AHT had already firmly proven his or her command of the skills required to pass the AHT by completing the core skills program. Instead, the AHT was a character test. Briefly, the AHT required the initiate to single-handedly sail a small two-sailed (main & jib) craft in heavy winds—defined by the frequent white caps that appear on the top of waves at wind speeds of 17 knots or more. The goal was for the initiate to demonstrate his or her confidence and presence of mind to execute the core skills alone and in adverse conditions.

My moment arrived late one July evening in 1980 and it was spiced up with particularly gusty, shifting winds. The test was an adventure. And when I had completed all the maneuvers required of me, the senior counselor and I took the opportunity to spend another fifteen minutes enjoying the thrill of an upwind ride in heavy weather. I arrived after lights out to a cabin full of my peers eager to hear me recount the evening’s exploits.

But the best moment of all came at breakfast. Before dismissal from breakfast, the campers were given the day’s announcements. The final announcement came from the senior sailing counselor. “Last night I took Scott Askins out for his Apprentice Helmsman’s Test and … He passed!” The dining hall erupted with cheers and applause. It was one of the most dignifying moments of my life.

Fast forward almost exactly twenty-eight years. My son was called back for the final try-out round for the Santa Carla Division III Soccer team for his age group. But on the day of the final try-out the left side of my son’s neck had seized up into a painful cramp. Having never made it onto a Division III team before, my son quickly became demoralized over his situation thinking he had no chance to make the team. I arrived home early to take him to the try-out and found him in his demoralized state.

I sat down across the table from my son and told him to look me in the eye. “OK Philip, here’s the deal. Coach Ralph is an extremely experienced soccer coach. He knows these things happen to kids from time to time. Coach Ralph has already seen your skill level and was satisfied with what he saw to bring you back for the final round. What he hasn’t seen is how you handle situations like the one you are in now.

For you, today’s test is not going to be a skills test. It is going to be a character test. Do you know what I mean by a character test?” He said he didn’t. And that gave me the opportunity to tell him my story of the Apprentice Helmsman’s Test. That was enough to calm Philip down and allow him to plan out how he would conduct himself during the tryout.

In my humble father’s opinion Philip conducted himself brilliantly. We met Coach Ralph before the try-out and explained Philip’s situation. Philip joined the other candidates for the warm-up and stretches. Otherwise, he stood by the coach and thoughtfully watched the other candidates perform the various drills. We stayed until the final try-out drill was complete.

Later that week, the team parent called to inform us that Coach Ralph had not selected Philip for the team. Obviously, Philip was disappointed. I was a little disappointed too. But as far as I was concerned, Philip had accomplished something greater than getting onto a Division III soccer team. He had passed my Apprentice Helmsman’s Test.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

I Sat in Front with His Mom

Put yourselves in the shoes I was wearing in eighth grade for a moment. I went to a private school that had only recently gone coed. There were six boys for every girl. The school still had dances, but there was no "sister school" invited to participate jointly any more. My lone effort to get a "date" for the dance from another school was preempted by a scheduling conflict before the young lady in question even needed to think about whether to turn me down gently or use the opportunity to humiliate me into never calling again.

My friend Ken's mother was my ride to and from the dance. When she pulled up, she and Ken were not alone in the car. Ken was sitting in the back seat with Marla. I had not met Marla before, but I knew her by reputation. Marla was uniquely adored by eighth grade boys at the local public middle school. She was kind, emotionally healthy, socially confident, and (of course) beautiful ... very, very beautiful. And that evening her beauty was highlighted by the dress, light makeup and other personal grooming that her mother (no doubt) put into making her evening with Ken enchanted and the pre-event photos a treasured family memory.

Riding in the front passenger seat next to Ken's mom, I felt like I was wearing a dunce cap. For me, the dance proved humiliatingly uneventful. One guy brought his sister along and I got to dance with her once: To Private Idaho, I think. Otherwise I chit-chatted with my friends and enjoyed the music. Ken spent the evening introducing Marla to his friends and teachers like he was a brave, handsome, well-liked fighter pilot in a 1950s WWII movie making the rounds at the officers club to introduce his fiancé. Ken's road show was interrupted only to enjoy the slow dances with Marla's arms wrapped around his neck. During the ride home, things got quiet in the back seat. I turned to look and saw Marla sleeping (or at least pretending to sleep) leaning against Ken who had his eyes closed and his head tilted in Marla's direction. Ken's mom whispered we should be quiet and to let them sleep. I was happy for them. But I also felt the weight of the disparity between my evening and Ken's evening.

At the time I simply thought Ken was cooler than I was. I now believe with a high degree of certainty that (i) Ken had help from his parents, (ii) Marla had help from her parents, and (iii) even today most teens do not get the kind of help and training in social skills that Ken and Marla got from their parents. While proactive parents invest in developing the academic and athletic skills of their children, most have done nothing to give either a son or daughter the skills to pull off the wonderful evening Ken and Marla enjoyed.

There is one thing I haven't told you yet. Marla suffered from a chronic joint problem that made walking awkward. Dancing to Private Idaho was not even an option for Marla. That is why Ken and Marla only danced during the slow dances. That's right. The girl with the awkward walk was uniquely adored at her middle school. The girl effectively unable to dance had the social confidence to go to a dance at a school where she only knew her date. And she was able to carry it off like royalty. Likewise, my friend Ken had the empathy and social skills to have earned Marla's trust and to make his dance work for her. No whining. No bickering. No foolish bravado. No anxiety attack. Ken and Marla enjoyed the school dance and each other's company for the entire evening—until they perhaps literally fell asleep at one another’s side.

As a parent, I'd like both my son and my daughter to develop the skills to enjoy school dances and other events as well as make those events enjoyable for others. More importantly, those same social skills come into play in the most important adult interactions: Finding a spouse, finding a job, developing new friendships, making important professional connections, etc.

The story of Ken and Marla is now a family legend I tell and retell to my son and daughter. Unfortunately, I've lost touch with Ken and I never knew Marla well. There is so much I'd like to know about what their parents did to prepare them and to help them along. With or without that knowledge, I am doing what I can to ensure that my son and daughter each develop and know how to apply social skills and social confidence. After all, whenever it can be avoided, I do not want them ever feeling like they're wearing a dunce cap.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

The Beach Ball

My generation of parents and educators raised in the “progressive” 70s and 80s have introduced something those raised in the “repressive” 40s and 50s did not impose when I was in my early teens: The beach ball.

What is the beach ball? It is an imaginary object between one dance partner and the other. In my day, hearing Stairway to Heaven or Freebird at a dance meant I would enjoy an extended, sleepy (alright, dreamy) embrace on the dance floor. But the experience of today’s young teens during a song such as Nickelback’s Far Away is subject to the “intimacy police” wandering around the dance floor equipped with flashlights to enforce the non-negotiable policy.

While I do not agree with all the heavy-handed rules imposed on my son and daughter’s generation, I’d have to say that on the balance I am pleased with the proactive stance my generation of parents is taking. The courtship that preceded my marriage of over seventeen years began after a five year non-dating friendship. I cannot think of any more preferable scenario for my son or daughter to establish the foundation of the most important relationship in life.

In contrast, the fits and starts of intimacy that characterized my early teens (while admittedly quite enjoyable in the moment) typically ended painfully. And truthfully, they are the source of nearly all the regret I have carried into adulthood. If anything, the skills of “love and affection” I developed in those early relationships had to be unlearned.

My hope for my early teen son is the same hope I will have for my daughter in a few years. I want him to have the emotional health and social confidence to develop great friendships with his peers: Both boys and girls.

I’m already seeing the interest in girls developing. And I’m pleased to see his interests and active fraternizing are directed toward the most emotionally healthy young teen girls he knows. One day, we’ll learn there is someone with the title of girlfriend. While I cannot predict everything, my take is she will be someone with whom he has already logged scores of hours over a number of months simply talking (or at least text messaging) without any premeditated agenda. And perhaps they will have even enjoyed a few spins on the dance floor with the beach ball between them.