A Vacation from School Work, Peek-a-Boo and Other Teen Drama

Winter break from public school descended onto Hermes one week before Christmas. Philip and Chloe have been enjoying two whole weeks plus one additional Friday off. For Philip, it has not just been about vacationing from school work. He has also been vacationing from all the teen drama he has been experiencing at Hermes High School.

And the drama was certainly high leading up to the winter break. For Philip, the drama mostly came from Erica, the extremely popular girl. She had begun behaving differently toward him. He was catching more looks. Chloe and I even witnessed some of those looks. On Wednesday, eight days before winter break, I picked up Chloe when her school let out and then headed over to Hermes High School to pick up Philip. With Philip in the front seat and Chloe in the back seat, we were inching our way out of the Hermes High School parking lot behind a long caravan of parents and teen drivers when Philip leaned toward me and said, “That’s her.”

“What do you mean ‘her’,” I asked.

“That’s ‘her’ right in front of us,” Philip answered. At first all I saw was a guy driving a truck in front of us. But then I could see movement in the passenger seat. A girl was slouching down as if hiding from us. And then she turned around, raised her head and took a quick look at us before dropping down quickly like a puppet in a child’s television show—exit stage down. This repeated several times and started to become comical. Philip waved and then she ducked. The next time both Philip and I waved before she retreated below the head rest. Chloe started giggling. And it was hard not to be cracking a smile. It was like Erica was playing a game of Peek-a-Boo with Philip. The driver (perhaps her older brother) turned to the right and spoke to her and then turned all the way to the left to look back at us. Her face appeared again between the two seats and then quickly retreated. At the end of the driveway we were both signaling to turn right. I decided to give Erica some relief by allowing an oncoming car to take a left turn to put an extra car between us and the truck.

The following day, Erica approached Philip’s table of guys toward the end of their lunch break. “Hey. Did you hear that Daniel broke up with Layla?” she asked the group, while standing closer to Philip than anyone else.

“No. That’s really sad though,” Philip answered.

Unexpectedly, one of Philip’s friends piped up, “Hey Erica. I’ve got a question for you. Are you friends with Philip?”

There was a long awkward silence before Erica answered slowly and cautiously, “… eeehhh … yyyeeeaaahhh …” And Philip quickly said yes in agreement to ease the tension.

“That makes sense,” the guy recovered. “You’re both friends with like everybody.” After that, Erica made a quick exit. But it was this final act of flirtation that catalyzed Philip’s resolve to ask out Erica.

But it may also have been what catalyzed Erica to either lose interest in Philip or at least become more cautious with him. During the time that was left of school before the winter break, Philip either couldn’t find Erica or couldn’t get her to slow down long enough for him to get to his asking-out words. Finally, on the following Wednesday, Philip learned that Erica had agreed to go to the winter formal on an as-friends basis with another guy. With that revelation, Philip decided to wait until after the winter formal to resume his pursuit of Erica.

That Friday morning, the first day of winter break, Philip slept until noon. He spent most of the afternoon in his pajamas. When I asked if he had any plans to get together with his friends, he said he wanted to just rest for a few days. And the pattern continued. His video game playing temporarily returned to eighth grade levels. Christmas Eve arrived and when Amelia asked Philip if he wanted a shower before we went out as a family, he informed us he had not showered in a week.

I must confess I am a small bit concerned by how recluse Philip has been for almost two weeks. Other than errands and family outings, Philip has stayed at home during the entire winter break. Most days, he does not even change out of his pajamas. No friends have visited or received a visit from Philip. He may have chatted with a few via instant messaging. But there have been no phone calls. He doesn’t seem depressed. He laughs and seems to be genuinely enjoying his time with the family. Still … this isn’t how Philip usually acts.

Tonight, New Years Eve, we are going to a dance sponsored by the same group that sponsored the dances Philip enjoyed while he was attending Oak Hills Charter School. There will be plenty of pretty girls, but none from Hermes High School. My hope is Philip will ease back into his usual outgoing self while still enjoying what remains of his break from the drama of Hermes High School, especially the games of Peek-a-Boo.

From Sanctuary to Memorial

Amelia and I have two kids. But we have a four bedroom house. The fourth bedroom was set aside long ago as the play room. The left side of the room was set aside for Philip and the right side of the room was set aside for Chloe. But the play room is starting to change.

Chloe’s side of the room has been the site of heavy girl playing. In the corner is a large basket full of girls’ dress-up clothes. They include ballerina and princess outfits. But none of them fit any more and she hasn’t replaced them. Last weekend she gave away the smaller half of her dress-up clothes to a three-year-old girl who visited the house. Instead, Chloe now collects flower girl dresses that she hangs in her closet. There is one which was her own, but she outgrew that. From her allowance money, she purchased the same dress in a larger size for fifteen dollars from the oldest flower girl at the same wedding. She has picked up other flower girl dresses at garage sales.

The most unchanged feature of the playroom is Chloe’s fashion dolls. They fall into two categories. There are the statuesque head-and shoulders on platforms that let Chloe and her friends endlessly comb hair and apply makeup. And there are the tiny flexible dolls that can change in and out of clothes quickly to be placed in fold-out houses, fold-out RVs or pool party scenes. Inevitably these dolls all end up naked and strewn across the carpet until chore time, when Chloe tosses most of them into the naked doll pale.

Philip’s side of the play room was devoted solely to building toys. Today, all his simple building toys have long since been donated to one charity or another. There are still several plastic tubs of not fully separated and organized building themes. And lastly there are his most complex building toys which he finally mastered some time around age eleven. They cover the complete surface of a three foot high cabinet. It is a battle scene between two fantasy world armies. Each army rallies from their own fortress built about a scale twenty yards from the other. It is as if the feud between Fred and Barney slowly evolved and escalated over generations from the stone age to medieval times, complete with Dino’s descendants now mutated into Dragons. Over time, dust has coalesced with girl hair to add wasteland tumbleweeds to the scene.

Philip hasn’t touched his tween fantasy battle scene or done any play building in perhaps two years, except to fix what inevitably gets knocked over from time to time by Chloe and her friends. About once every six months we ask him if he is ready to take it down and donate his building toys. But he still says no. The left side of the playroom remains a memorial to Philip’s childhood.

Philip has changed so rapidly in just a few months. During the party he hosted in August—the one during which he met Layla—he enjoyed no shortage of Guitar Hero rounds with his friends. But during the party he hosted just two months later in October—one where Erica showed up—he stayed in the back yard listening to an eclectic mix of hip-hop and alternative while talking and drinking soda. A few feet away other peers were playing Guitar Hero inside. They seemed to be the ones too frightened to talk to Erica and the other girls.

Philip now showers every day, wears deodorant, spends more than one minute combing his hair, has multiple sources of income and needs to start shaving. The time he spends on his laptop that was once devoted to a fantasy game is now replaced with browsing Facebook and YouTube. Only occasionally does he play any kind of video game—all of which are mindless shooting and fighting. And even that is getting less and less frequent. When Philip and I go for evening walks, he no longer wants to talk about his ideas for fantasy novels. Instead he wants to dissect and analyze the latest words and actions of Erica or some other girl. But with Christmas just ahead, we asked him about the building toys on the left side of the fourth bedroom. He didn’t hesitate with his answer. He still wanted to keep them as they were. “I like to come in here and look at them from time to time,” he said. And so, for at least another six months, the left side of the fourth bedroom will remain a memorial to a time in Philip’s life that is still cherished: His childhood.

The Shallow Reality

Even before she broke things off with the football player, the awkward game of courtship between Erica and Philip had begun. But their developing mutual interest functions in the complex early adolescent social structure and gossip pit of Hermes High School.

Without question, ninth-grader Erica holds the unchallenged position as the leading “trophy” girlfriend at Hermes High School. She seems to have a love-hate relationship with this position. On the one hand, she certainly prefers the position over its polar opposite. Nearly every guy whose interest in girls has awakened is either exclusively interested in Erica or at least has her on his short list. Philip’s interest, for example, is exclusive. Erica is invited to all the parties and she can secure just about any favor she wants. On the other hand, she has learned she needs to be very careful to not give a guy the wrong signal. Additionally, she finds she can easily intimidate her guy-peers. And worst of all, she is nearly always hounded by at least someone. For Erica, having a trustworthy, well-matched, long-term boyfriend would not only be pleasant in-and-of itself, but it would substantially eliminate the downsides of her popularity among boys while only mildly reducing the upsides. Additionally, it could only improve her popularity among the girls which is already off the charts.

Among the ninth-grade boys at Hermes High School only perhaps ten to fifteen percent of them are even looked upon as “boyfriend material.” And these few face fierce competition for the attention of their ninth grade gal-peers from sophomores, juniors and sometimes even seniors. The status of “boyfriend material” is admittedly rather shallow. It has almost nothing to do with compatibility, emotional maturity, long term prospects, empathy, or relationship skills. Instead it mainly has to do with superficial attributes such as good looks, physical maturity, bravado and mystique. (To be fair, as a whole the guys at Hermes High School judge their gal-peers by equally frivolous standards.) Each of the guys classified as “boyfriend material” sports his own unique mix of attractive qualities. For some it is a well matched set of height, developed muscles, chiseled features, athletic prowess and confident bravado. For others it is a cute face, an engaging personality, social confidence and a creative sense of humor.

While there is no clear leading man the way there is a clear leading lady, Philip seems to have found himself in the upper-end of the “boyfriend material” lineup with a strong mix of those overrated attractive qualities. Philip is above average in height and athletic prowess. His abdomen carves into a six-pack when he flexes, but it is doubtful any girl has ever noticed it emerge from beneath his loose-fitting T-shirts. The rest of his muscles are toned but definitely not bulked. He carries absolutely no extra body fat which gives his face (like Erica’s) a uniquely mature but youthful look. His portrait is a smooth cross between the hard features of actor Robert Pattinson (Edward Cullen in the Twilight series) and the soft features of pop star Justin Bieber. At the beginning of the school year, Philip’s hair was a rock-star-length mop that he hardly washed, hardly combed but somehow normally still looked very good. The day after he danced with Erica, Philip changed his ways and began showering daily before school. He got his hair cut to a preppy length in early October, but has since grown it out to a length he combs back and allows to feather to near perfection.

But probably the greatest contributor to Philip’s high “boyfriend material” status is his mystique. Having spent seventh and eighth grade at Oak Hills Charter School rather than Hermes Middle School, Philip arrived at Hermes High School without the standard embarrassing history from the previous two years. At the same time, Philip had managed to keep up his relationship with his closest friends. The result was nearly all of the “new kid” advantages and almost none of the “new kid” disadvantages. On top of that his temperament is highly unflappable. He rarely feels compelled to speak, and when he does speak, his words are normally concise. He augments his mystique by wearing sunglasses often. And in the morning, he arrives at school with a cup of coffee, drinking it with the comfort and confidence most girls only see in adult men like their fathers.

Sometime in November, Erica started treating Philip differently. Her normally effective “hard to get” tactic must have looked to her like it was having the opposite of the intended effect. Philip’s unflappable exterior proved resilient as Erica’s mixed signals failed to evoke any crazy behavior or desperate actions. So lately, Erica has flirted more openly and directly than Philip has ever seen her do. In short, it appears that Philip has won the game of “hard to get” against the reigning champion. But to Erica’s credit, her new tactic—if that has indeed been her intension—has worked, because Philip is now resolved to ask out Erica as soon as he gets the chance.

Having a shallow exterior does not mean there is no depth beneath. Erica’s charisma and ability to be a close friend to so many girls all emerge from a still unknown but very real depth. Likewise, Philip’s unflappable exterior that is a large driver of his mystique emerges from an emotional maturity that is probably unrivaled among his guy-peers. As a parent, I am preparing for the very real possibility that Philip and Erica will not only start a relationship, but that their relationship will last a long time. I expect the biggest challenge to a successful long term relationship between Philip and Erica won’t come from within either of them, but rather from the difficult external pressures they will face together in the complex early adolescent social structure and gossip pit of Hermes High School.

The Girl Who Smelled Like Flowers

It was the summer of 1986 and the twilight of my formative years. I was twenty years old, home from college, running my own computer services business and had purchased my first car. Somehow, college students with similar interests and values manage to meet one another. And so it was that I met Julie and lots of other young men and women enjoying a break from their college careers while earning a little money in the process. My summer social life was no longer confined to my high school, my job or even my town. It was expanding while at the same time becoming more focused.

It was either at a barbeque or a pool party one Friday or Saturday evening in June when Julie and I enjoyed our first extended chat. She was nineteen years old and had just completed her freshman year of college. We asked one another the usual home-for-the-summer college student ice-breaking questions. And in that process we quickly discovered she worked just a three minute drive from my number one client’s office. It was a natural, not the least bit awkward thing to agree to have lunch together. I asked and she accepted.

While I was working in an air-conditioned office, Julie worked outdoors and in a greenhouse at a local nursery. We must have made an odd looking couple at the diner where we first shared lunch. I was wearing a blue and white striped Ralph Lauren oxford cloth shirt, pale yellow draw-string Ocean Pacific pants, loafers and dark socks. Julie was wearing a flesh-toned tank top, denim short-shorts, low quarter athletic socks and a worn down pair of dirt-covered aerobic sneakers. Both of us were dressed for our respective jobs, of course. Our real interest was in the other person, not what the other person was wearing.

Lunch during a work week was by definition a tame date. Neither of us could harbor secret hopes for what would happen after the meal. We were both returning to work. And so we were focused on what serious adults focus on during a first date: Getting to know one another. But the moment I sat back down in the driver’s seat of my car after picking up Julie at the nursery, I discovered an immediate and unexpected benefit to having a lunch date with her. Julie smelled absolutely incredible. She couldn’t have smelled better if she had heavily sprayed herself with something from the Forbe’s Most Expensive Perfumes list. And the scent of her accented our entire lunch date and lingered in my car for days afterward. She had become saturated with the scent of fresh flowers from the nursery.

Julie and I enjoyed one another’s company over lunch that day. We ended up dating non-exclusively for the rest of the summer. With one exception, it was always a lunch date. And the only “benefit” was her intoxicating floral scent which I whole-heartedly enjoyed each time she and I got together. That summer marked a significant change in my dating interests. I had realized my next serious relationship would either end in significant heartache or in marriage. Julie seemed to have the same outlook. She and I were extremely cautious about commitment while at the same time very open to a significant amount of exploratory dating. We allowed the spark between us to develop into an ember but not a flame. She had at least one other guy she was also dating non-exclusively. Likewise, I enjoyed several other individual dates that summer. Nobody seemed to be feeling any jealousy.

Behind us were so many of the attitudes and pressures I now see in Philip’s life at Hermes High School and that were then an all too recent a memory of my own high school and early college days. Nobody quizzed us on our relationship. Nobody judged how suited we were to one another. There was no pressure to move the relationship forward quickly. And my desire to indulge in kissing and cuddling—while still very strong indeed—was substantially exceeded by my desire to conduct my dating relationships with the long term in mind. It was the most honest, comfortable and emotionally healthy dating relationship I had ever enjoyed, and it set a bar for all that would follow.

I cannot expect Philip at fourteen to enjoy what I never enjoyed until I was twenty, but I do think he can enjoy something very close to it. Dates are usually but not always too big a deal in his high school world to permit the ember-but-not-flame outcome. But individual dances, IM chats, text messaging, and extended conversations during school breaks, parties, sporting events, group beach or snow outings, and even phone calls all allow the spark to slowly develop into an emotionally healthy ember without prematurely forcing the flame. Admittedly, Philip may experience some awkward moments along the way. One gal-peer Philip hugged after an extended before-school chat greatly misinterpreted his embrace. And Erica’s interest-cultivating behavior toward Philip certainly did not mean she wouldn’t be exclusively dating one of the football players within just a few days. But Philip seems capable of navigating all that. He’s had to learn to be more cautious about who he hugs. And he is still not sure about where he would like to take things with Erica. For me as his dad, I am growing in my trust of his judgment. Today, rather than giving Philip advice, I would merely like to tell him my story of the girl who smelled like flowers.

Confiding too Much

Most of Philip’s friends have an irresistible urge to confide their most private thoughts. And with the advent of Facebook, his peers confide their private thoughts for all to see. A fellow lacrosse player recently had this in his status. “This really sucks. I just realized today that the girl I like is way out of my league and probably likes another guy anyway.”

Philip’s ex-girlfriend Layla is no less private. For three consecutive evenings starting the day she read Philip’s privately delivered break-up note, Layla composed and published four hundred to six hundred word Facebook notes about how she was coping with Philip ending their relationship. And then about a month later she published another five hundred word note about how she met and connected with her new boyfriend, Daniel. Like her break-up chronicles, the “new boyfriend” note contained more information than any smart parent would recommend confiding. Layla’s note included the fact that she and Philip shared the first slow dance at the first school dance which took place about two weeks after they broke up. It also included a description of how much she liked kissing her new boyfriend. And finally, she confided that she had never kissed a guy before she kissed Daniel.

The significance of the “first kiss” disclosure was not lost on Philip. Layla had effectively disclosed to the world (albeit indirectly) that she and Philip had never kissed. There were positive and negative aspects to this disclosure. On the negative side, Philip anticipated no shortage of annoying questions about his long done relationship with Layla. Why did you dance with her if you had broken up? Were you hoping to get back together? Did you really never kiss? Are you jealous of Daniel? On the positive side, Layla had disclosed to the world that her relationship with Philip had been tame. While he couldn’t verify his suspicion, it seemed to Philip that quite of number of the girls were shunning him because of his previous relationship with Layla. Layla and Daniel had been not-so-privately kissing during the morning and lunch breaks. Effectively, these girls seemed to think Philip had “used” Layla and then dumped her. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but Philip had no platform to defend himself against these unspoken accusations. But with her latest note, Layla had effectively given Philip the platform he needed to shine light on the truth of his honorable conduct with Layla. And so Philip composed the following comment to post below Layla’s note.

OK. Since I know a bunch of you are going to want to ask me a bunch of questions about Layla’s note, I’m going to answer them here so I won’t need to repeat myself.

1. Everything Layla has written about me in this and her other three notes is true.

2. That’s right. Layla and I never kissed. She and I spent the twenty-three days were dating exclusively getting to know one another.

3. Layla and I are still friends. The fact that we slow danced did not mean we wanted to get back together.

4. I’m really happy Layla and Daniel have found one another. They seem like a great match.

Despite posting his comment, Philip still got questions the next day, but he figured he got fewer than he would have otherwise. The questions came from the usual suspects: A handful of guys who thrive upon gossip. He did not get any questions from girls, but he sensed a small, guarded change in the way he was being treated by ones he suspected had been shunning him. Philip’s post was a tactical move that had the intended consequences. In contrast, most of his peers, including Layla and his friend from the lacrosse team continue to confide too much.

Keeping the Hopes Alive

Erica, the extremely popular girl, won’t be dissolving into the sea of Philip’s gal-peers any time soon. Light itself behaves differently when it touches her. Her eyes are engaging. Her smile is alluring. Her laugher is intoxicating. She is thin, toned and shapely. Inside, Erica is still a fourteen-year-old girl. She is a tangled and imbalanced mixture of maturity and immaturity, wisdom and foolishness, bravery and insecurity, kindness and cruel insensitivity. Rightly, wrongly or both, Erica is the sole owner of Philip’s young adolescent heart.

Philip knows he holds some place in Erica’s heart, but his prominence therein is a mystery to him. He catches looks, overhears perhaps intended whispers, and sometimes even witnesses her usual confidence melt in front of him. Is she single-minded or fickle? Is she working to cultivate the interest of multiple guys? Or is Philip the only one? He doesn’t know. He analyzes her words and actions endlessly.

The first school dance was on a Friday. She had held him close and tight. They had seemingly connected, singing the final song of the evening into one another’s faces. He fired off a carefully crafted note to her the day after the dance, but there was no answer. Then on Monday evening, she announced to the world via her Facebook page that she was dating Bruce, one of the football players. On Wednesday, Erica finally broke the silence between her and Philip. Philip was heading out from his final class of the day and walking with a friend. A girl's voice called out from behind him, “Phil.” Nobody calls him Phil except some of his teachers, so at first he kept walking. But there it was again, “Phil” only louder, closer, and this time the voice was more recognizable and clearly directed at him. Philip turned around and there was Erica. She was alone. Philip had never seen Erica alone before.

“Hi Erica,” he said. Philip could see his friend was in total shock at the sight of Erica behind them. Philip looked back at Erica. And for the first time he saw her looking lost and uncertain. There was a long silence as Philip waited to hear what Erica wanted to say. Her mouth opened but no words came out. He saw her inhale and then pause again. Philip had just chosen his words to break the awkward silence when one of Erica’s friends called out to her from nearby. She smiled and hurried over to her friend.

The brief exchange was all it took to keep Philip’s hopes alive. A week later, Philip saw Erica was online so he initiated a chat. They briefly chatted about wearing braces. Then Philip asked how things were going between her and the football player.

Philip: Hey whats up.

Erica: hey philip! nothing much what about yourself?

Philip: Nothing really...

Erica: Sweeeeet haha

Philip: So where were you during history?

Erica:i had an ortho appoiontment!

Philip Ohh.. so your braces are off now

Erica: no not yet, they come off in the beginning of decemberr

Philip: I still got 6 months or something

Erica: aww that sucks, i had mine on for 2 yeears

Philip: wow... So how are you and Bruce getting along ... If I can ask...

Erica: we're alright..i dont think its gonna last though

Philip: Hmmm... did something happen?

Erica: no i just really dont do well in relationships

Philip stared at the screen of his gaming laptop not knowing what to type next. Before he could decide, Erica went offline. But she had confided a secret. It was another one of those acts that kept Philip’s hopes alive. It would prove to be just one of many. The next day, Erica publicly dumped Bruce during the morning break. The relationship had lasted just ten days. The whole school knew about it by the end of lunch. But Philip had known the night before it happened. But he wasn’t going to let anyone know about his advance knowledge. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a secret. And it is things like secrets that keep the hopes alive.

Ad Hoc Tween Scooter Socials

Our neighborhood has a huge number of tweens between the ages of nine and eleven. Rita’s daughter Jasmine is nine and Rita’s son Gary is ten. Add to that Chloe who is ten and Veronica’s younger brother David who is eleven and at least four more kids within a short distance from our home. On any given day someone has at least one friend over after school to play.

Over the years people have moved in and moved out. Friendships have developed and gone stale and then developed again. This school year, there is a decided hub of tweens who choose to congregate after school in front of our house. It started with Chloe and Jasmine deciding to spend a lot of their time together on their scooters. They ride back and forth between our house and Rita’s house at the other end of the neighborhood. It didn’t take long before Chloe and Jasmine were getting more adventurous with their scooter riding, traveling together further out into the neighborhood.

With Chloe and Jasmine’s adventuring in safe numbers, others soon joined. Even boys began to join. But the neighborhood is only so big with a single exit leading out onto a major road headed out of town. By October of this school year the afternoons developed into ad hoc tween scooter socials in front of our house. The tweens would ride about seemingly aimless. They wouldn’t need to talk as long as they were focusing on their riding. But they were free to speak up to one another at any time. It was the perfect safe social environment for their developing social skills.

From my home office in the afternoon I can hear a clacking sound of scooters moving over the pavement. Occasionally, a tween or an older sibling will pull out a skateboard and join the scooter-riders. At times, Chloe will invite her friends behind our house to jump on the trampoline. If the crowd is large, they will sit around the edge of the trampoline and talk in a way not unlike her brother’s teenage friends talk. But eventually they run out of things to say. When they do, they either disperse or go back to riding scooters. In the end, it is usually Chloe and Jasmine who are the last ones riding. The enjoyed their ad hoc tween scooter social and then went back to their own private riding.

No Summertime Blues

Besides babysitting, younger teenagers have little opportunity to earn money. This is especially true for boys, since most parents want a girl to do the sitting. Philip actually has a babysitting job. Rita, our friend down the street, pays him thirty dollars every other Thursday night when the kids are not with her ex-husband and she has her certification class. On a normal Thursday, Philip works from 5:00pm to just after 9:30pm to earn his thirty dollars. That works out to about $6.65 per hour. That is less than the $10 per hour most girls earn babysitting in Hernes. But given Rita’s kids are older (at ages nine and ten, respectively) he generally can do all his homework at the same time and once everyone’s homework is done watch TV that is age-appropriate for the nine-year-old, bur still reasonably appealing to him. And finally, Rita is a good cause.

For those who remember Rita from last Thanksgiving, her finances have improved as a result of some government-sponsored programs and taking a roommate, but she is not out of the proverbial woods just yet. This certification program will go a long way toward helping her attain a viable single mom’s income.

While babysitting has been a nice source of income for Philip, his truly lucrative job is refereeing. At twenty dollars per game to start, Philip is earning roughly fifteen dollars per hour. Like babysitting, refereeing is one of the few jobs available to younger teenagers. But it is not an easy job to secure. Officially, one can begin refereeing for pay at age thirteen. But the job requires certification, and the final certification exam is not easy. In Philip’s class, all the other fourteen year olds were taking the exam after failing it the prior year. Even some adults did not earn a passing grade. In Philip’s case, he barely passed. But barely passing was all it took.

Philip has taken on working for pay cautiously. In theory he could referee at ten games each weekend if he worked full days Saturday and Sunday. Gaining the experience would qualify him to referee in higher paying scenarios. But instead he chooses to only referee at one or two games each weekend. For Philip at fourteen, he leisure time is very valuable to him. His bank account is fat enough as far as he is concerned.

I am reminded of an old song called Summertime Blues about a teenager who cannot find a healthy balance between his job and his leisure time. In Philip’s case, he has no Summertime Blues.

Extremely Popular Girl and the First High School Dance

If Philip’s life in Hermes were a Hollywood movie, Erica would be cast as the villain. Her popularity is off the charts. And isn’t the most popular girl always the villain in a Hollywood movie? But this is not a movie, of course. It is real life. Only the names of people and places are fictitious substitutes. Erica is a real person with real, genuine feelings. As Philip entered Hermes High School, he became aware of Erica almost immediately. Erica was the other face in just about every girl’s profile picture on Facebook. Erica—who somewhat resembles starlet Victoria Justice—devotes large amounts of energy to her hair, makeup and clothing. She seems to enjoy pressing close to someone—girl or guy—and smiling for the camera. Somehow Erica’s presence in each girl’s profile pictures makes the girl in question look better. Erica is kind, charismatic and friendly. Nearly everyone likes her. And nearly all the guys have some kind of in love interest toward her. But most are too intimidated to even talk to her. At the first school dance, Erica split her three hours on the dance floor time between just eight guys. Philip was one of them.

Philip’s first high school dance was a new experience. Gone were the beach ball rules of middle school. In my day there were fast dances and slow dances. But at Hermes High School there was one other form of dancing the kids called Durty Dancin’. For those unfamiliar, Durty Dancin' takes place during rap songs. It has the guy standing behind the girl following her dance moves. However, the guy's hands are in front of her. Cautious guys (like Philip) put their hands on the girl's midriff and leave them there. The bolder guys will imitate the girls arm and hand movements which usually means several one inch drive-bys up and down (sometimes back and forth) in front of the girl's breasts never quite touching but following their shape. There is clearly a rush for the guy regarding the possibility of the girl stumbling forward. Likewise there is clearly a rush for the girl in trusting the guy during each drive-by. There were (of course) girls on the dance floor who would guide their dance partner’s hands to make direct contact with their clothed breasts. And there was at least one guy who was trying to grope his dance partners in an unwelcome manner. After just three Durty Dances, Philip decided to take a break whenever a rap song started.

Like the school dances in my day, there were only a few slow dances. For the first slow dance, Layla cautiously approached and asked Philip to dance. He accepted. They danced without saying much, but he fulfilled his break-up promise to dance with her at upcoming dances. Later that evening Philip learned that Layla had paired off with one of the football players. The one turn-down Philip received was for the second slow dance. He asked a girl who had been on his first grade baseball team. She smiled and shook her head. By the third slow dance an intense headache came upon him. He went outside to get some air and discovered Jocelyn, Charlotte and most of the girls soccer team had completely sequestered themselves to socialize with one another rather than dance.

Finally, the last dance of the evening came. It was Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing, and it proved to be an upbeat slow dance of sorts. Having been one of the guys Erica had been willing to dance with at other times, Philip approached, tapped Erica on the shoulder and said “Would you like to dance?” Her response surprised him. Erica gave some words of acceptance and quickly grabbed hold of him. She held him tight and close. Her face was perhaps just two or three inches from his. Their arms entangled around one another, with Philip’s arms wrapped around her small waist and Erica’s arms tightly wrapped around his torso. At the chorus, they spontaneously began to sing the song to one another face to face. Philip had put on sunglasses and he kept his gaze forward the whole time.

Over those last minutes of the first high school dance, Erica completely captured Philip’s heart. As the song and the dance ended, they released one another slowly and gently. She thanked him and then scurried off to go talk with her girlfriends. He let his shaded gaze linger on her retreating figure before exiting the dance.

The following morning was Saturday. Philip sent a short email to Erica’s Facebook account thanking her for making the last dance of the evening fun. There was no response Saturday. There was no response on Sunday. Monday was a school day he did not share any classes with her and he did not see her during any of the breaks. There was likewise no response on Monday. But late Monday evening, he took a look at her Facebook account. Bruce, one of the football players, had just asked her out and Erica had accepted.

Building on a Fragile Foundation

Meeting Layla evoked feelings Philip hadn’t felt before. The day after she met him, she asked him out and he accepted. It was only a few days before school was about to begin. The idea of arriving at school dating one of the girls in his class was something Philip was both particularly looking forward to and particularly dreading. It was already going to be a brand new school. And while he had many friends at the school, he was going to be the new kid in the eyes of the vast majority of his classmates. He wanted to connect with his old friends (mostly guys) as well as make new friends, but he also knew he would have obligations to his new girlfriend. And a big unknown was how her social life would collide and interact with his social life.

The first day of school was a half day. Philip and Layla agreed to have lunch with one another. Amelia and I had agreed to his lunch plans, provided he was home by an agreed-upon time, and that he would answer his phone if we called him. I had expected them to eat lunch in the strip mall that was closest to Hermes High School. But instead the pair walked three miles down Hermes Boulevard to the main section of town where there was a Deli. They never stopped talking. They talked for over three hours. During the middle of the afternoon, I needed to run a brief errand and drove into town from my home office. I had no expectations of seeing them, but there the two of them were standing in the shade on a downtown sidewalk—not even touching—just talking in an animated manner. They looked very cute to me. But what struck me the most was that the look on Philip’s face displayed more happiness than I had seen since before his jaw injury at the beginning of the sixth grade. Despite all my parental reservations about the two rushing into a relationship after just meeting, I wanted it to work out for them.

Philip and Layla began dividing their free time at school—a morning break plus lunch hour—between themselves and their other friends. On Facebook the two made their relationship known to all their friends. Word of their relationship spread throughout the school and other students would often ask Philip about his relationship with Layla.

But not long after, the relationship went into a slow decline. Philip expressed his reservations about using the words boyfriend and girlfriend when they had only just met. They began to experience more silence during their efforts to speak—as if everything that could be said had already been spoken. They went to a music festival with Layla’s family. Philip bought her a rose ahead of time and gave it to her. They had their one true snuggle that evening back at Layla’s home under her parent’s non-intrusive supervision. But there wasn’t even any kissing. That Monday, Philip told me he thought he might want to break off the relationship. But then not long after he told me he was worried about what would happen if Layla’s family moved back to Holland. I encouraged him that the best thing for him to do was to get to know her better. I told him he was certainly free to break up with her if he wanted, but that he needed to do it kindly and respectfully. Dumping is not something we as a family do to people.

Philip and Layla also spent the next week splitting their school breaks between each other and their respective friends. Their third and final date was on Memorial Day. I took the two of them with Chloe to a water park in San Geraldo. When we arrived, Chloe and I enjoyed a daddy-daughter date, while Philip and Layla headed off on their own. They had fun, but they were talking less and less. During the ride home they were almost completely silent. Layla began playing a game on her mobile phone while Philip simply stared out the window.

That evening, Philip told me he was almost certain he wanted to break things off with Layla and I reiterated my support, provided he did not Dump her. Unfortunately, Philip was not so decisive. He avoided her at first and then apologized for avoiding her. But the apology gave him an opportunity to reiterate his discomfort using the words boyfriend and girlfriend when they had known one another less than a month. He agreed to focus on getting to know one another. But things were in rapid decline. On Monday, Philip ate lunch at Ethan’s table with Layla, but not much was said. Then on Tuesday’s morning break, Layla had a small meltdown on campus. She began teasing an ex-boyfriend named Brian. The teasing declined into kicks and slaps. Ethan arrived with four other large, confident older students and brought the situation under control. But the event solidified things in Philip’s mind.

That evening Philip talked to me about how best to break up with Layla. He didn’t think he could pull it off face to face or even on the telephone. He wrote a kind note instead. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of handing it to her, so he emailed it to her. It was late Tuesday evening. She read it early Wednesday morning. Wednesday was an awkward day. While Philip intended to tell nobody, Layla confided in friends and word quickly spread.

People began approaching Philip asking him why he broke up with Layla. “It just wasn’t working out,” was not a very satisfactory answer to most, but it was all Philip had. Philip was embarrassed about the fact that his first romance only lasted twenty-three days. But he decided to swallow his pride and move on. Then he discovered something interesting. He was not alone. A whole bunch of peers had paired off during the first few weeks of school. One by one these relationships failed too. Most failed in less than two weeks. None he knows of lasted as long as the one he shared with Layla.

Today Philip understands intellectually that all these short-lasting relationships including the one he shared with Layla were built on very fragile foundations. Few younger teens focus on getting to know one another before agreeing to commit to an exclusive dating relationship. The desire to pair off is strong. And there is a fear that if the commitment isn’t sealed quickly the opportunity will go away. As a parent I cannot even estimate the number of times I’ve thrown out the phrase “emotionally healthy non-dating friendships” but that all evaporated in Philip’s young mind when a crush seized him. Philip has learned a hard lesson. But he knows he is not alone. My wish for him is that he will move forward with greater caution and navigate the choppy waters of young love with more wisdom the next time.

Campus Warlords … Sort Of

Philip is still in his first month at Hermes High School. He hosted a party to reconnect with friends as well as make new ones shortly before school began. One of the new friends he made at the party, Layla, asked him out and the two had their first romantic date on the first day of school. Because it was a half day, the Philip and Layla left campus together and enjoyed lunch at a nearby deli.

But on most school days, lunch is on campus. They get a fifteen minute break in the mid-morning and a thirty minute lunch break in the early afternoon. Students tend to congregate into small groups during the two breaks. And especially during lunch, each group tends to center around a particularly charismatic student: A campus warlord of sorts.

Philip and Layla agreed to divide their breaks evenly between each other and their other respective friends. When not with Layla, Philip tended to join up with a group led by his friend Tim, a sophomore. Layla in turn tended to join a group led by a guy named Ethan, the older brother of one of Layla’s best friends. Layla tried joining Philip at the table with Tim and his other friends, but it did not quite work for her. Likewise, Philip joined Layla at Ethan’s table. Ethan quickly earned Philip’s respect as did Ethan’s other friends. But in general, if he wasn’t alone with Layla, Philip preferred Tim’s crowd, or the occasional visit to sit with Ross and Ross’ other friends.

During one recent lunch Ethan convinced his crowd to carry one of the lunch tables to a shady area at the top of a hill on the edge of campus. Tim and his crowd were sitting at the table next to the one Ethan carried away. After seeing Ethan’s plan unfold, Tim hatched a plan of his own and quickly convinced his friends to join Ethan’s crowd at the top of the hill with one important difference. Tim wanted to ride on the table while the eight freshmen and sophomores carried the load up the small hill. As they approached with Tim lying in a bodysurfing position on the table, Ethan caught the scene and began clapping. Soon Ethan’s whole table was giving Tim and his crowd a standing ovation.

Philip and Tim’s other friends placed the table down next to Ethan’s table and the small crowd hurried down the hill to retrieve their lunches. The two small crowds enjoyed a private lunch together with an overlook view of the small campus below. Comfortably before the bell each group carried their respective table back down to its proper place among the other lunch tables.

It proved to be a happy memory for Philip and perhaps many of the others who enjoyed lunch in a non-traditional manner that day at Hermes High School. More importantly, it was a bonding experience. Somehow the campus warlords managed to bring their friends closer together in a special and memorable way that day. As long as that is how they leverage their leadership, their warlord status is well-deserved.

Preparing Them for the Freedoms of Adulthood

“How much does one ease up on the protection we gave them as children in favor of the kind of freedom we will eventually fully release to them as adults?” In an email trade with Layla’s father, I wrote those words describing the timeless question parents of adolescents often ask themselves. We both struggle with the question, and we are not alone.

With Philip entering high school, it is a logical coming of age milestone to grant him wider freedoms. But I know it would be foolish of me to grant him those freedoms without training him to manage those freedoms. He is fourteen years old now. In less than two and a half years he will be seventeen and it will be legal for him to see an R-Rated movie without parental consent. The Motion Picture Association has all kinds of criteria that separate the R rating from the PG-13 rating. With Philip, I only care about one of them: The moments of soft pornography.

While it may be an over-generalization, in my mind R-Rated movies fall into two categories. There are the action movies which usually have a small amount soft pornography. And there are the comedies which often have a large amount of soft pornography. I decided now was the time to teach him how to handle the enticing images. A particular action movie had captured Philip’s interest. It was Gamer. I told him I would take him on the condition that he and I would talk about the soft pornography element of R-Rated movies before and after we watched it together. He agreed. As it turned out, Gamer fit my generalization by revealing four bare breasts in a manner that did nothing to advance the story line.

We all know adult men who are addicted to pornography. Some of them have had to admit to their problems and establish controls in their lives in order not to succumb to the addiction. Others live secret double lives, stealing awake late at night to indulge online or via some other medium and then hiding or erasing the evidence. And finally there are those who have openly embraced the addiction as a lifestyle. All are poignantly handicapped relative to the non-addicted. Except for the most vigilant members of the first group, they have a diminished capacity to keep their eyes from wandering. In developing romantic relationships, their relative interest in the woman’s body ranges from disproportionate to downright toxic. They find the unnatural shapes caused by breast implants and liposuctions to be most appealing rather than disturbing or monstrous.

While I do not want to be judgmental toward any individual, I do want to shape the kind of person my son grows up to be. And given how much our culture’s media displays such images, I believe it is an important part of one’s education to learn how to manage one’s reaction to these images. With really only one compromising scene, Gamer proved to be the perfect film for the first such training. Philip and I could discuss it afterward, and we did. He easily agreed the scene was unnecessary to advance the plot. Actually displaying the four breasts was unnecessary to accomplish the character development of the gawking adolescent in the movie. In the end Philip could see the requisite scene for what it was. It was there to satisfy someone with an agenda different from his own.

If Philip recognizes and embraces the values I hold, I know he can learn to master his own mind. With such mastery, he can enjoy the highest budget, most action-oriented movies. He can enjoy any public beach. And most importantly, he can one day fully enjoy the private intimate relationship he will share with a spouse.

The majority of parents I meet do not agree with my approach. One group declares the images are no big deal. I suspect most of these are people who themselves indulge in pornography as adults or have chosen to accept such indulgence by a spouse. The other group believes stricter rules that shelter their sons and daughters right up until each son or daughter leaves home is the way to go. While I certainly have a greater respect for this latter group, I have witnessed too many disastrous results to embrace their strategy. That said, of all the actions I am taking as a parent to raise my son well, this is the one I question the most. Time will tell whether or not it was a wise choice.

Getting to School by Bike and Bus

Like many communities in our State, Hermes has no school busing system. Each morning, a convoy of SUVs, Minivans and Sedans invade school campuses to drop off kids. The same happens in the afternoon. For each dollar the State educational system saves not having school buses, parents spend perhaps five to ten dollars on gas, not to mention the time away from their work.

We decided we would break rank from this system and created “Confident Kids Caravan.” Chloe and I went to the homes of each rising fourth and fifth grader in our large, developed neighborhood promoting the idea of biking five minutes to the town’s bus terminal and taking the county bus to and from school each day. Some parents looked at me like I was the most irresponsible parent in the world for wanting my ten-year-old daughter to take the bus. Others thought it was a great idea.
As it turned out, the County bus was so under-utilized by Chloe’s elementary school that the bus schedule had gotten out of sync with the school bell schedule. But upon contacting the bus company, we saw a willingness to take quick action, and the bus schedule will be fully repaired before September is over. We have slowly been building the group of kids biking with Chloe. Chloe and Veronica’s younger brother David make up our core. A boy across the street has joined us. And once the bus schedule is corrected so that the kids are not cutting things too close, we plan to recruit again and expect to find both the excited parents and the horrified parents.

We’ve been fortunate that the same bus route to Chloe’s elementary school also takes Philip to Hermes High School. Philip has been riding his bike with Chloe and David. And the presence of a High School student makes all the parents more agreeable to the idea. Nonetheless, David’s father and I have been trading off the task of riding the bus with the kids and picking up the other at the elementary school.

Getting on the bus put me into the world of Hermes High School. A whole crowd of High School students take the bus regularly. Some of them have formed a small clique of black clothes and skateboards. The one girl in the skateboard clique brings and acoustic guitar to school each day. Once settled, she begins to strum and play some light unplugged music.

Toward the front of the bus, Chloe and David sit in eager anticipation of the school day. Philip sits in the middle of the bus and tries to get just five extra minutes of sleep. And in the back the skateboard clique talk somberly and listen to the guitar. At the stop just ahead of the High School, a man in a wheelchair boards. He says a few kind words to David and Chloe and then unpacks his breakfast of banana bread and cream cheese. He tells me he is going to the local college campus to do his morning weight-lifting which he does five days a week. His arms are perhaps twice the diameter of his legs.

Before we know it, the bus has arrived at the High School and the majority of riders disembark. Some of the High School kids need to remove their bikes from a rack on the front of the bus. Philip disappears into the crowd heading up hill to the campus and the bus engines engage. The man in the wheel chair promises David and Chloe he will pull the cord ahead of the correct bus stop. Until the schedule correction, David and Chloe will need to get off the bus one stop ahead of the official school stop. It involves crossing an intersection, but reduces to walk time in half plus adds the three minutes not spent behind the caravan of non-bus-riders being dropped off at school. David worries he will be late to class, and Chloe asks me to walk with her.

We disembark and our brisk walking outruns the slow-moving caravan. Once we cross the intersection, David runs ahead while Chloe and I gently ascend a pathway onto campus. We arrive comfortably ahead of time. Chloe gives me a big hug and I head down to the parking lot to catch my ride with David’s father.

Tomorrow, the kids ride on their own.

An Unexpected Development

The Saturday before he began his freshman year at Hermes High School, Philip hosted a teen social with the goal of reconnecting with his old friends after two years at Oak Hills Charter School as well as making new ones. He invited roughly twenty guests he knew mostly from Hermes Middles School and gave each invited guest the opportunity to bring one friend along. While most of the guys accepted his invitation, few of the girls came. Jocelyn and four of the other girls invited were spending the weekend in a mountain cabin together and declined his invitation. Veronica and Heidi were the only invited girls who came, but each brought a friend along. There were a total of twelve guys and four girls. Veronica brought another rather earthy friend named Cassidy whose hair went all the way down to her knees. Heidi brought a friend named Layla.

Layla truly stood out. First of all, she was quite tall. Both her parents were Dutch and she had a very slight but noticeable Dutch accent. The other girls seemed to defer to Layla’s leadership regarding whether to jump on the trampoline, enjoy the music, or go inside for the videos and guitar hero games. When two of the guys accidently bumped into one another and one appeared to have hurt the bone above his right eye, Layla led that guy inside and got him an ice pack from our freezer. Among the girls she was the most comfortable socializing with the guys and worked herself among all the guests. When a small group of guys were potentially getting too rowdy, she quickly alerted me to her concern.

Layla also invested time in Chloe who was permitted to take part in the evening’s festivities with her friend Patty. The two tween girls wanted to take Layla upstairs to show Chloe’s room to Layla, but I did not permit them. Still, Layla helped Chloe and Patty enjoy themselves on the trampoline. Then what was probably the critical moment of the evening arrived. There were a handful of teenagers jumping on the trampoline with Chloe and Patty, and someone’s foot half landed onto Chloe’s foot. Chloe sat down and started to cry complaining that her foot hurt. Philip abandoned his circle of guys chatting to get onto the trampoline to comfort Chloe, while Patty went inside to get me. Philip then picked up Chloe, brought her over to me walking on his knees on the trampoline and gently laid Chloe into my arms. Meanwhile, Layla looked on with interest.

How Layla ended up being the last guest at the party is not exactly clear. But as far as I can tell, Layla had originally planned to catch her ride home with Heidi and Heidi’s mother. But Layla instead made separate arrangements to have her own mother pick her up fifteen minutes after the party officially ended at ten-fifteen. As I was cleaning up the last of the party’s debris, Philip, Layla, Chloe and Patty were in a corner chatting amiably and passing my camera around to take silly pictures. Finally Layla’s mother arrived and I brought her inside to collect Layla. “The party is now officially over,” I announced.

Layla looked over to see her mother standing next to me. Layla was silent for a few moments, merely blinking in her mother’s direction. “Could you maybe come back around twelve-thirty?” Layla asked her mother. I offered Layla’s mother a glass of wine to give the kids a little more time to wind down, but Layla’s mother wanted to operate more quickly. Nonetheless, Layla’s mother allowed Layla to introduce Philip and before leaving Layla asked Philip for his mobile phone number. Clearly, the two had enjoyed meeting one another.

The first text message from Layla made Philip's mobile phone vibrate some time before noon on Sunday. Philip and Layla began trading text messages in the afternoon until by evening their replies to one another were almost instantaneous. Perhaps seventy five messages in total were traded. They talked about all the things two teenagers just entering high school might discuss. Layla even confided some private struggles to which Philip responded with supportive words.

Then there was an unexpected development. Layla asked Philip if he had a girlfriend. Philip coyly answered, no. Layla sent him back a text asking him out. And Philip staying coy nonetheless told her yes. And so Philip’s first romance began.

What a Good-Bye Says

The first full week in August was the week both Philip and Chloe went away to overnight camp. They went to two separate camps a short drive from one another. The plan at each camp was a Sunday afternoon drop-off and a Saturday morning pick-up. We spent the bulk of drop-off Sunday packing and finished within an hour of needing to leave. We went through each packing list and I wouldn’t let them pack anything until I’d read it from the list and they held it up so I could check it off as I watched them pack the item in question. We had to go to the store to purchase flashlights, bug spray and single-use cameras. Amelia was conveniently on a girls-weekend-away and the entire parenting responsibility was on my shoulders. We filled the trunk and half the back seat of the car.

Chloe was dropped off first. Her camp had everyone arriving inside the same forty minute window, so we had to endure an ordeal parking and then walking her week’s worth of clothing and supplies to a central registration area. For whatever reason Chloe’s medical information was not on file. So I had to wait in line for ten minutes to deal with the camp authorities to ensure all her paperwork was properly filled out. Amelia who had all the information like the name and number of the primary care physician along with the kids’ medical cards was conveniently out of mobile phone range. But eventually the paperwork was complete to the camp’s satisfaction and we carried Chloe’s week’s worth of luggage to her cabin. We arrived in time to secure the last remaining top bunk. We stayed to put her stuff away, meet her counselor and her cabin-mates and say our good-byes. Normally, Chloe wants a long good-bye, like when I go on an overnight business trip or even spend the day somewhere other than the home office. But now the situation was reversed. She gave her brother a token hug and she gave me the shortest hug I’d received in a very long time before her left hand was on the small of my back guiding me to exit the cabin.

Philip’s camp had a later arrival time. We drove to the tiny downtown on the edge of the woods fifteen minutes from the camp’s entrance. We could tell we were running twenty minutes early. So we parked and walked into the town’s small grocery store and bought two ice creams on a stick. We walked through the little hamlet and mostly just talked. I told him a few stories from my time at overnight camp. We looked at some artwork in one set of windows and some home listings in another window. We managed to enjoy a relaxing twenty-five minutes before heading into the woods to drop him off at Camp.

We endured another parking and registration ordeal but nothing was missing this time. His counselor told us to drop Philip’s stuff off at the cabin and then meet on the same field where registration was taking place. I carried Philips large suitcase. He carried his duffle bag and sleeping bag. His cabin was far up a steep hill. We were the second to arrive in his cabin and Philip chose a top bunk. He chatted briefly with the kid who arrived before him and the two kids who arrived after him. I stood outside the cabin letting him connect with his new cabin-mates. Then he came out and told me he was ready to go back down. I began walking with him and expected to say good-bye at the field, but Philip then began to run ahead of me. I planned to say a quick good-bye to him on the field, but he wasn’t there when I arrived. He must have gone to some favorite spot he knew about from his previous summers at this camp. Either way, I couldn’t find him. The camp gave me a cup of not-for-campers lemonade and I drove off deprived of any more of a good-bye from Philip.

Were the good-byes I received a good thing? I got a brief hug from Chloe and the words “I’m ready to go back down now,” from Philip. Separating from their dad in favor of something fun was not a big deal to either of them. And as a parent who knows there are only so many years left, I know the shorter the good-byes, the more ready they are for adulthood.

A Growing Ease and Confidence

Early last Saturday evening the phone rang and I was the one to answer the phone, “Hello.”
“Hi Mr. Askins. Is Philip there?” It was Craig.

“Philip isn’t here at the moment Craig. Are you calling to see if he would want to get together with you to do something tonight?”

“Uh yeah. But that’s OK if he’s not in tonight.”

“Philip is not here, but I think he’d be interested in getting together. He’s down at the Cambodian Barbeque with Joshua and his sister Debbie. We’re headed down there right now. There’s a live band. I don’t know if you have been there before but you can get a small Gelato inexpensively. I’m sure Philip would love to have you join him. You can talk about doing something afterwards.”

“Uh, sure. Maybe I’ll go down there then.” And the two of us politely exchanged our good-byes.
The Cambodian Barbeque opened in Hermes just as the recession was gaining stride. The restaurant and its owners have defied the odds with great food, great prices, great ambiance and solid customer service. They now have live music every Friday and Saturday evening which draws enough of a crowd and the associated business to well offset the cost. As far as location goes, they are in a strip mall half way between the town’s two largest office parks and they share a nice lunchtime business with a local pizza chain, a Mexican restaurant, a Wendy’s, a fancy Japanese restaurant and an upscale grocery store. Their Gelato offering competes nicely with a frozen yogurt shop and a Starbucks in the same strip mall which is walking distance from Hermes High School.

When Amelia and I arrived at the Cambodian Barbeque with Chloe, we saw Craig had arrived ahead of us and had joined Philip, Joshua and Debbie at a four seat table. This was the first time since Philip’s birthday party I had witnessed Craig in a teen social setting that was larger than just Craig and Philip. At Philip’s birthday party four months earlier I had observed Craig failing to navigate any relationship but the one he enjoyed with Philip, and I had been concerned that Craig and Philip’s friendship might not survive the transition to high school as a result.

But four months maturation had clearly been kind to Craig. He had an ease and confidence I had not witnessed in him before. Even Joshua’s thirteen-year-old sister Debbie seemed perfectly comfortable sharing the dinner table with Craig—though admittedly Debbie lived under the same roof with Joshua and was accustomed to Joshua’s early adolescent antics. In my mind, Debbie’s acceptance of Craig was the truest indicator of Craig’s maturation.

It was a dramatic change. Craig wasn’t positioning to control the conversation, needing to outdo Joshua’s one-liners or sulking when others were getting more attention. Debbie and the three young guys talked about movies, music, video games, sports and who knows what else. For the four of them, the adult world of everyone else at the restaurant must have seemed like a grey blur and a dull roar of white noise. They were completely focused upon one another and enjoyed trading their various stories and opinions.

Once the four had finished eating, they left their table and went for a walk around the strip mall. As the live music set was drawing to a close, Philip came up to me and asked if he could invite both Craig and Joshua to sleep over at the house that night. Amelia and I accepted. A few mobile phone calls later, all the arrangements had been made.

As the rest of the house settled down for the night, Philip, Craig and Joshua moved around from Youtube, the Wii and the Roku. When I said goodnight to them, they had settled down to watch a movie on the Roku. They looked so comfortable hanging out together. Craig looked especially comfortable.

There was a growing ease and comfort that hadn’t been there only four months ago, and I was very, very happy for Craig’s sake. I’m now certain Philip and Craig’s friendship will survive the transition to high school.

Once We Knew, It Was No Big Deal

I remember almost nothing about the woman I'd never seen before or since. I have no memory of the conversation she had with my mother or the location it all took place. I only remember that immediately afterwards my mother and I got into her car to head home. Once the car doors were closed and my mother and I were effectively alone under the cone of silence, she turned the ignition and said matter-of-factly, "By the way, in case you did not notice, that woman was not wearing a bra."

I was perhaps the age Philip is now. I didn't think it was any big deal that some adult woman I did not know was not wearing a bra. And since my mother did not have anything else to say on the topic, it seemed my mother did not think it was a big deal either. Perhaps my mother disapproved of the fashion statement. If so, her disapproval was only mild.

Regardless, my mother had imparted knowledge I later appreciated having—not regarding the woman who had been speaking with my mother that day, but regarding other women (particularly my teenage gal-peers) whose torsos did not reflect the culturally normative dual torpedo look. I had once wondered whether they had some developmental abnormality. From that day onward, I knew there was no developmental abnormality. It became no big deal. It was at most an earthy fashion statement.

Fast forward to this past Saturday. Amelia and I helped our son Philip host a neighborhood teen social. Included among the guests was a teenage girl we barely knew from five doors down named Veronica. Veronica brought her best friend Heidi along. Veronica and Heidi proved to be perfect guests for Philip's teen social. They were fun, chatty and they were neither shy toward nor overtly interested in their guy-peers at the party, all of whom they were meeting for the very first time that evening. Veronica was tall, commanding and mildly athletic-looking. Heidi was more intellectual in her demeanor. She wore wire-rimmed glasses, and sported particularly fair skin, eyes and hair.

While refilling the bowl of chips some time in the middle of the party I noticed something else about Heidi I had not seen with any of Philip's gal-peers before. Heidi was not wearing a bra. Heidi’s choice of attire was consistent with her very earthy temperament and the realization was no big deal for me. By the time I returned to the other room to resume chatting with the other parent chaperones, I had already forgotten about Heidi’s earthy fashion statement. But some time the next day I did remember. And with that memory followed the memory of what my mother had said to me matter-of-factly years ago. I quickly concluded I owed Philip nothing less.

So on Sunday night, I invited Philip to go for a walk with me. We’ve gone for quite a number of enjoyable walks together during recent evenings, so my invitation was not a source of concern to Philip. But once we were alone on our walk I told him I wanted to have one of those father-son chats but that he had nothing to worry about. “In fact,” I said, “once we’re done, what we will have talked about will be no big deal.”

I began by telling Philip the story about my mother and the lady I barely remember. Once he understood the story and how I’d initially thought there was some developmental abnormality, I then told him that Heidi had not been wearing a bra and that was what a gal’s torso looks like when she is not wearing a bra. “Dad! I didn’t exactly eye her up and down last night,” he retorted.

“Of course you didn’t,” I replied. “And I didn’t eye her up and down either. I merely noticed. The next time you see Heidi, she probably won’t be wearing a bra then either. So after a quick glance, you’ll remember this talk and you’ll understand what you see. After that, it will always be no big deal.”
“Alright,” he quipped. “As long as you understand it is no big deal, dad.” And with that I knew Philip understood.

The First Teen Dance of the Summer

The hour-long dance lesson was over, and the first song of the evening was about to play. Along the edge of the dance floor, teenage girls in their favorite dresses stood tall and still. Most of the teenage girls stood in clusters speaking with one another in hushed voices. With only one exception, the teenage boys milled about with their hands in their pockets scanning the girls at the edge of the dance floor. Finally the first song began. The majority of the teenage boys immediately engaged and walked briskly toward one of the teenage girls along the edge of the dance floor. Seeing the success of their peers, the rest of the teenage boys milling about each in turn cautiously approached one of the remaining teenage girls still standing at the edge of the dance floor and found himself a dance partner.

The exception among the boys was my son Philip. He was seated in a corner chair at the very edge of the dance floor. He slowly drank down a bottled water and allowed each of the teenage boys who had been milling about to secure a dance partner. As a chaperone for the dance I watched from a distance wondering what Philip was doing. Or more specifically I wondered why he was sitting in a corner drinking from a water bottle while the rest of the boys were securing partners for the first dance. But I also realized that the gender ratio of roughly five girls for every four boys would operate in Philip’s favor no matter how long he delayed. He finished his water in one fast gulp and then stood up.

There were perhaps twelve teenage girls standing without a dance partner. These twelve remaining teenage girls deserve to be described. They were not the twelve least attractive teenage girls in the room. Instead they were the twelve most intimidating teenage girls in the room. On average they were taller. They had noticeably more refined muscle tone. None had over-applied her makeup. Their dresses were feminine and well fitting but neither girlish nor overly revealing. There was no evidence of hair product. About half had their hair pulled back with a simple barrette or ponytail tie. If there was any bashful eagerness, each kept it well hid. They stood with a quiet confidence appearing unconcerned about being passed over for the first dance of the evening. One of the twelve looked particularly intimidating. I imagined her being captain of the varsity volleyball team.

Philip seemed to have done a complete reversal. But I soon expected it was all by design. With all the other teenage boys enjoying their first dance of the evening, Philip approached the volleyball captain who was perhaps two years his senior. “Hi. I’m Philip. Would you like to dance?”

I couldn’t lip-read her response. But the volleyball captain followed Philip a few yards onto the dance floor and the two began dancing The Swing. She was perhaps three inches taller than Philip. The look on her face revealed little while the two were dancing. I imagined she was feeling a mixture of disappointment at the age and height of her dance partner and relief that she was not passed over for the first dance. Philip attempted to engage her and she politely answered his standard questions about where she lived, where she went to school and her favorite activities. But she generally stared past him rather than maintaining eye contact.

Soon the first dance was over. Philip and the volleyball captain walked to the edge of the dance floor, thanked one another for the dance, and went their separate ways. Philip grabbed a fresh water bottle and returned to his seat as the second dance began. He repeated the same pattern for several dances. At the beginning of each dance, he would wait patiently for the edge of the dance floor to be substantially cleared. Then he would approach the most intimidating looking girl he had not yet danced with and invited her to dance. Philip always found agreement. Each successive dance partner proved less impassive and more engaging than the previous.

From the middle to the end of the evening, Philip was mainly dancing with the girls whose age and height more closely matched his own. By then even the most awkward teenage girls were comfortable carrying a conversation with Philip and their other dance partners. For most of the teenagers present and especially for Philip, the dance was not about finding romance. It was about developing social confidence and expanding one’s comfort zone. Philip had taken a unique and effective approach that showed both caution and boldness. It seemed to work for him. And as far as I could tell he had fun doing it.

As I’ve reflected on what I observed during the first teen dance of the summer, I’ve come to respect how differently Philip conducted himself in comparison to me at that same age. When it was me as a teenager on the dance floor many years ago, I was merely milling about with my hands in my pockets.

Cell Phone Envy

Ever since Chloe first saw one of her peers call a parent from school using a cell phone, Chloe has wanted a cell phone of her own. When kids started text messaging and using the photo features on their cell phones the craving only got stronger. But our answer to Chloe was the same answer nearly every other parent gives, “We will get you a cell phone when you need one.”

Philip got a cell phone when he went into Middle School, because that was when we needed him to have one. Chloe felt it was unfair but we held our ground. But now circumstances have worked in Chloe’s favor. Amelia and I are now working full time with Philip carrying responsibility for Chloe between the end of the school day and the first parent being available in the house.

So for her birthday, we wrapped the new cell phone among Chloe’s presents. This year’s party was simple: Pizza, cake and some games. Most of Chloe’s regular friends were at the party. Hot Dog and Big Gulp from her basketball team were both there. Chloe’s best friends from school Patty and Stephanie were also there. So was Samantha. And so was Lindsay, a girl from Chloe’s soccer team.

The party was going perfectly until Chloe unwrapped the cell phone. Perhaps we should have given that gift privately. But no parent complained. Chloe now needed a cell phone and this was her day to enjoy that imperfect coming-of-age event. The other “haves” in the room also needed their cell phones. And each of the “have-nots” in the room did not need a cell phone yet. And we knew their parents’ position on the subject matched ours.

Somehow, a cell phone is in the category along with a Disney theme park vacation. Normally young kids can handle the fact that some kids have things that others do not have. But it is not so with cell phones. And when you throw in the messaging, audio and video features that now come as standard with the little gadgets, it only magnifies the envy.

Most of the girls who did not have their own cell phones quickly shrugged off Chloe’s good kid-fortune. In fact they were genuinely happy for Chloe and looked on with enjoyment as Chloe and Lindsay tested out the new phone’s text messaging feature. But Patty wouldn’t let it go so easily. She sulked in the corner. She wrote “I’M MAD” on a name tag and stuck it on her forehead. And for at least a half hour Patty was a little dark storm cloud floating among a bunch of white-and-fluffies.

But in the long run, even Patty was able to accept her relative circumstance. Patty still calls Chloe on the regular phone and the two talk on and on about ten-year-old girl things. Chloe’s cell phone time is for family communication only until night and weekend minutes apply. But Chloe especially enjoys making videos using her cell phone. And she’s traded a non-excessive, rationed amount of text messages with Lindsay.

Inequality is difficult to deal with as a child, yet handling inequality is a necessary skill every good parent teaches to his or her kids. But some inequalities seem to get under kids’ skin more than others. All I can conclude is that cell phone envy is here to stay—at least for a while.

A Special Evening

Thanks to the magic of social networking, I recently connected with a high school peer, Brad, who attended the U.S. Air Force Academy. Now he pilots unmanned aircraft over Iraq and Afghanistan remotely from a States-side Air Force facility. Brad has earned the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the U.S. Air Force. His story is fascinating for all sorts of reasons.

And as it turned out, Brad was staying just an hour-long drive from Hermes this past week doing work on an advanced degree. The two of us agreed to meet briefly if possible during the week he was close by and we managed to make that get-together happen the other night. I brought my son Philip and his friend Joshua along.

With no shortage of digital flight simulators creating appeal for the life of a military pilot among today’s teens, both Philip and Joshua were curious to meet Brad, hear Brad’s story, and learn about careers in the military and the educational options available—especially the Service Academies. Philip’s career interest is engineering, and the engineering programs at all of the Service Academies are top-rated. The chance to be a military pilot would be gravy for Philip. In contrast, Joshua with his physical prowess and black belt is most interested in a long-term military career.

Riding for an hour with two fourteen-year-old boys was an experience all its own. They’d created a game for themselves called Stupid Americans. The game was simple. Each tried to outdo the other with a humorous one-liner about the silly things Americans think, say and do. Each one-liner was delivered with a mock-accent and always began with the words “Stupid Americans …” It didn’t take me long to catch on.

Philip was ready to make us all laugh, “Stupid Americans! They cut down the rain forests in order to get cheap cow meat!”

Then Joshua quipped, “Stupid Americans! They think black and white movies are ‘classics’!”

So I entered the fray from the driver’s seat, “Stupid Americans! They pay forty cents per minute once they’ve used up all the time on their cell phone plans!”

They laughed sincerely at my one-liner. But then I got serious, “Alright guys. This game is funny. But once we’re with Brad, no more using our country as the basis of jokes. Brad almost certainly knows people who have died for our country and has certainly risked his own life in service to this country. We’re about fifteen minutes out. Spend some time thinking about what kind of questions you’d like to ask him.”

Our evening proved better than I’d hoped. To begin with, Brad took us to a military pub that served especially good greasy spoon. Philip and Joshua each devoured their fish-and-chips. But the real value was delivered as Brad began to explain to the boys about careers in the military, about the military academies, what the boys could do to gain admittance into the military academies and the alternative path of the ROTC programs. He also explained the benefits of enlisting directly out of high school. (Brad felt some of the very best officers were the ones who began their military careers as enlisted men.)

It was an evening to remember, if for no other reason than the fact that I got to see someone I had not seen in twenty-five years. We took pictures of the boys with Brad and then me with Brad. And then it was time to go home. We dropped Brad off at his hotel and headed back to Hermes.

On the ride home, did the boys talk about all the interesting things they’d learned from Brad? Of course not! They went right back to their game of Stupid Americans.

Twins Are Coordinated But Triplets Clash

Twin Day was announced at Orchard Heights Elementary School the day before it happened. The announcement fell on the heels of the Mileage Club award being given to Chloe, Patty and just three other third-graders—all of whom were boys. The award was a sharp looking royal blue t-shirt. With matching t-shirts in hand, Chloe and Patty quickly agreed they were going to be “twins” the next day and set about making their plans which also included putting their long hair up in ponytails.

Later that day, the class was in the library. Chloe and Patty were continuing to discuss their plans for Twin Day when their mutual friend Stephanie approached them. “The teacher says we are allowed to do triplets. You two are my best friends and I want to be triplets with you.”

I’d like to say Chloe and Patty gently but firmly explained to Stephanie that they had partnered for Twin Day to wear the Mileage Club t-shirts they had won. Instead they made a weak attempt to convince Stephanie to partner with someone else before giving verbal agreement to Stephanie’s proposal that blue shirts and blue jeans would make the three of them triplets. And to add another unintended insult to the following day’s injury neither Chloe nor Patty said anything about the ponytails; Stephanie’s hair was too short to ponytail. And while Chloe and Patty were true to their word about wearing blue shirts and blue jeans on Twin Day, the outcome would come as a painful shock to Stephanie.

Before the morning bell had rung to officially begin class, Stephanie was in a state of inconsolable crying. She told the teacher that Chloe and Patty had “switched” Twin Day outfits after the three had agreed on something else. Confessions and apologies were demanded and a “parent must sign” note went home that day with both Chloe and Patty.

I was the first parent to see the note. Chloe was visibly ashamed to hand me the note. Normally such notes are open-and-shut cases like talking in class. This note was different. Chloe and Patty were accused of being sneaky liars. And the note required them to give a written confession to lying. At that point I had Chloe walk me through all of the events and words traded that led to the disconnect regarding what to wear on Twin Day. It included very direct questions about the order of events and the exact words said. And while I was highly sympathetic to Stephanie’s genuine hurt and pain, I was deeply disturbed that my daughter had been coerced into a confession that exceeded her culpability. And so rather than merely signing the note, Amelia and I wrote one back. An abridged version of our note appears below. It reflects much of what Amelia and I value as parents.

Dear Miss Williams—

The note home says Chloe and Patty lied, switched their “twins” outfit and ultimately broke a promise they made to Stephanie. We have drawn different conclusions. Chloe and Patty certainly had a misunderstanding with Stephanie that resulted in deep pain and hurt. And we will work to help the girls mend their relationship. Nonetheless, there is a big difference between a misunderstanding and outright lying. We have concluded that wanting to appease her friend and satisfy her teacher, Chloe was coerced to admit to things she and Patty did not do.

We believe it is an important life skill to defend oneself when falsely or unfairly accused. For someone Chloe’s age who has learned that she is still loved even when she does something wrong, it is much easier and much less painful to accept culpability and move on, especially when the accusation comes from an authority figure—hence the need to develop such skills.

We’d like you to reconsider what happened. If you conclude as we have that this was a simple case of the kind of miscommunications and misunderstandings that happen among third graders, we think your support of this conclusion will work significantly to reconcile Stephanie to Chloe and Patty. If you conclude otherwise, that will be regrettable but we will respect your conclusion; we trust you’ll respect the fact that parents are not always going to agree with you.

Sincerely,

Scott and Amelia Askins

At not even ten years old, Stephanie, Chloe and Patty have reached the point in life when one desires friends and not merely playmates. Common interest may be what initially brings two kids or even two adults together in friendship, but loyalty, maturity, sensitivity and agreed-upon values are what sustain and grow true friendships. Unfortunately one’s desire for friendship at young ages exceeds what one’s closest and most well-intentioned same-aged friends can provide. The gap normally is most severe in middle school. For kids to continue to develop in an emotionally healthy manner during the tween and early teen years, it is essential for them to enjoy the care and respect of adults, beginning but certainly not ending with their parents.

Consistency Takes Priority

Without a commute, I am home much more. My new job has me working out of a home office and travelling two or three times each month. My former job had me commuting roughly one hour each way but travelling just two or three times each year. Most days now I sit with Chloe over breakfast in our kitchen and walk her to her morning carpool. I’d also say I emerge from my home office at the end of the day at least an hour earlier than my commute would get me home. Net-net … Chloe sees a whole lot more of me and gets more “daddy interaction” than she did before, even when taking into account my more frequent travelling.

But Chloe does not like the travelling. In particular, she dislikes the travelling because it disrupts the otherwise predictable “daddy” rituals she has come to expect—rituals that began during my five weeks of unemployment earlier this year. Before I leave for business travel, the thought of me missing consecutive breakfasts and dinners makes her ill at ease. So am I doomed to a less appreciated fatherhood while I continue to travel at this frequency? I do not think so. Instead I need to create a new kind of enjoyable ritual that is tied specifically to my inconsistent travel and return schedule. And for a ten-year-old daughter, there are plenty of enjoyable rituals I can create.

Three years ago, I had a weekly ritual with each of my kids. On Wednesdays I would take Philip to the gym to play basketball before school. And on Fridays I would take Chloe on a breakfast date at the local coffee shop before school. The breakfasts with Chloe became quite elaborate. We brought an age-appropriate board game and would play one or two games before leaving to take her to school. I would park the car in the lower school parking lot and walk her to the front of the classroom where hopscotch squares were painted on the pavement. While waiting for her bell, we would take turns hopping in the hopscotch squares. When the bell finally rang, I would walk her into her classroom and say goodbye with a hug and a kiss.

Today, Chloe is too old to have me take her into her class. But breakfast is a real possibility. So are dessert dates. We had one relatively recently. I took her into downtown Santa Carla and bought her favorite ice cream. As we walked from the parking lot to the ice cream shop, we heard live music coming out of a coffee shop just three doors down from the ice cream shop. Chloe told me she liked the music. Once we had our ice cream, we walked back to the coffee shop. I took us to the counter and explained that even though we had ice cream, we were willing to pay a “corking fee” to sit at a table and enjoy the live music. The proprietor was too nice. “Have a seat and enjoy the evening with your daughter.” We compromised. I bought some imported tea as a present for Amelia. For the next half hour, Chloe and I sat down to enjoy the ice cream with the live music. It was a great evening.

Between a breakfast date and a dessert date and the numerous other possibilities, I am confident I will find something that will satisfy Chloe as an appropriate reconnection ritual for when I return from business trips. The fun for both of us is exploring the possibilities.