You are the Light in The Tunnel of Adolescence

When my youngest was born 7 years and three months after my oldest, I started to immediately do the math.  I wanted to know if I was going to have 5 teenagers in my house all at once.  And while it is true that my oldest will turn 20 three months before my youngest turns 13, it was a near enough miss to prompt this conversation several times over the years:

Random Citizen: Do you think you will ever go back to the classroom full time?
Me: I definitely hope to when my youngest goes to kindergarten. But my oldest will be entering the teen years so I imagine a cute little pre-school class smiling up at me each day. Otherwise I will be surrounded by teens all day.

Ha!  I knew that upon my return to teaching, when my youngest would go to kindergarten, I would be embarking on the teenage years with my children and in no way could I imagine teaching teens all day and then returning home to more teens in the evenings.  Here I am four years into my return to the classroom, loving every minute of Middle School teaching by day, and every struggle of teen-parenting by night.  And I am not surprised...the adolescent has always held a special place in my heart, a place of honor, awe and admiration. 

Maybe it was the passing of my father only three days after my 14th birthday or maybe it is just my nature to love what others find difficult to embrace.  Whatever the reason, I am drawn to the adolescent in a way that can best be described as a calling or vocation.  Even in my years as a stay-at-home-mom, my part-time jobs often involved Youth Groups, developing curriculum aimed at adolescents, and public speaking engagements regarding teen issues.  The age just fascinates me.  It is unique, intriguing and somewhat mystical; like the butterfly chrysalis working its magic to change one wonderful being into something completely different, yet the same.  

I think of it as, The Tunnel of Adolescence...this is what sets adolescence apart from any other stage of life. Unlike toddler-hood, middle-age, the golden-years, or any other stage of life that we can define, adolescence is not a destination. Instead, it can be better seen as a passage between childhood and adulthood; a route which gets you from here to there. If using the imagination, one could certainly see how it is tunnel-like by its nature. The Tunnel of Adolescence has a true entrance and a true exit, but offers various passing options.  One child enters slowly, cautiously, watching the surrounding loved ones with questioning eyes that wonder what it is that she is supposed to do with her changing body and mind.  Another child rushes in, not for the joy of adolescence, but for the prize at the other end of the tunnel; becoming the fully realized individual who can dream to change the  world. The passage in the tunnel is as unique as each child that enters.  It is a time when the child needs his parents the most, right when he is trying to learn to walk independent of their parental controls.  Put simply, it's tricky!

So how do we as parents best assist our children in this passage?  The saying goes, "There is light at the end of the tunnel." and while that is true and certainly a sympathetic reminder when we are in dark times that there is hope, we need to believe that there is also hope and light along the way.  Parents and teachers are the Light in the Tunnel of Adolescence.  Picture you are driving through a tunnel. Whether you are cruising along quickly and the lights are forming one tremendous display of clarity or you are eking along in traffic and each elongated light offers hope of progress from one side of the tunnel to the other, you feel the hope of the lights lining the corner where the walls meet the ceiling.  That is us!  We are the lights in the tunnel helping our adolescents see that there is more to the tunnel than the beginning at the end.  There is a light at the end, for sure.  But there is so much more! With caring adults lighting the way, the adolescent can define himself, strengthen his resolve, explore his longings.  He can safely break away as he is supposed to do, but knowing that when he turns to the side the light will still be with him, guiding but not controlling.  

I am not sure whose job is harder when an adolescent is loved.  The child has a difficult passage, for sure.  There are questions, struggles and challenges beyond anything that was presented up until this point.  But the adults have a challenge to face as well, and the future of the adolescent that they love depends on doing so effectively.  Recently my teenage daughter has been confiding in me aspects of her life that are causing her pain.  I listen to my little girl to whom I have devoted my life and absorb her pain, then I set her free to find her way.  This is a tremendously difficult undertaking.  How much easier it would be to make a phone call, talk to those involved and solve this for her as I did when she was younger.  But that is no longer my role in her life!  I am growing in the tunnel as well, and that is the key.  That is the difference.  Her growth is mine.  The adolescent cannot get through the tunnel unless the adults around are shining light, that is absolutely true.  But those same adults need to stay put in their spot wedged in the corner where the wall meets the ceiling, growing into their new parental role so the child can become the adult she was meant to be.

I'm not sure yet what it will feel like as my children exit the tunnel and start walking their adult life.  My son is just stepping out now.  But I do know that once we are on that route with our children, it can be difficult to catch our breath and take the snapshots that help to define this stage of life.  This might be why as our children approach high school graduation ready to enter adulthood, many parents can be heard saying, "How did that happen?"  "Where did the time go?"  It is not intentional!  You did not really miss anything!  You were just so immersed in the intensity of adolescence, holding tight to your place in the Tunnel, that when you look back you see the little 12 year old, and when you look forward, you see the budding adult.  It's OK!  It happened and it was beautiful and you were there all along being the light your child needed.  Great job!!!