The Post Without a Title

The post I had planned for this week is just not going to happen. So instead, I bring you The Post Without a Title.

No time spent on focus keyphrases or headings or ALT text for images or on improving SEO rankings.

It’s just not that kind of week, but I hope you’ll stick around and read this anyway.

My kids are finally experiencing high school, for real. One of them experiencing in-person, in-classroom learning for the first time since fifth grade (or, the equivalent of 6th level in the New Zealand school system). Learning differences, COVID and our trans-Pacific relocation all contributed to my kids coming late to the high school party.

And hand in hand with their tardiness comes a delinquency in parenting: how to parent teens in a world with other teens.

Toys seem to play together nicely, so why can't the rest of us?
The toys seem to get along, why can’t the rest of us?

Many of you will understand when I say this type of parenting is a real pain in the ass. Especially if you are a no-drama kind of adult. Because you understand all too well that high school theatrics don’t necessarily end with high school. And we know we can’t simply write it off, reassuring our teens that all this posturing and politicking will end with graduation. Rather, we must explain that this is a prelude to some real-world post-high school interactions. It’s tough to admit that to our children. And even tougher to coach them through it. Some teen behavior is not just developing-brain behavior, it’s human behavior. But better they learn now than too late.

I don’t have all the answers. I won’t even pretend to give the perfect advice. But advice it is. Here’s what I’ve been telling my kids when they feel irritated or isolated or just plain pissed-off or blind-sided by interactions with their peers:

Teens are eager to pass off their fears, perceived shortcomings and low self-worth to those around them. Anyone they deem a threat is their target.

Remember the game “Hot Potato?” This is the emotional equivalent. Instead of a ball being tossed aloft, bad feelings that cause the owner pain are deemed too hot to handle. The person holding the ball (the difficult emotions) want to unload that smoldering potato as fast as possible onto someone else, someone empty-handed of pain or insecurity. So they toss the scalding mess to that person, taking the pain off their hands, doubly hoping it will “burn” the receiver. Because hurting someone else is a self-soothing measure.

But the pain doesn’t go away.

At least not for long.

There is only temporary relief in making oneself feel superior by making another feel bad.

Because, like playing “hot potato,” where the ball returns to every tosser eventually, that sphere of bad feelings comes back around.

And the desperation to unload returns.

When they don’t understand why a peer rejects them, I tell my kids that this isn’t about them. It’s about the classmate and what is happening in their own world. Frustration causes them to strike out, or ignore or take to the virtual armor of social media. If you seem to be someone who doesn’t carry the burden they do, they are more than happy to try handing you theirs.

I also tell my kids: don’t accept their hot potato. It’s not yours. Don’t hand it back; drama and pain go hand in hand. Instead, drop it right where you stand and walk away.

When the owner sees you won’t play their game, they’ll look for another opponent. And, unfortunately, they will find one.

Also unfortunately, there are adults who like to play emotional hot potato. As I make this big reveal to my kids, I make sure they understand that no matter who is “inviting” them to the game, they get to walk away. BUT they get to walk away with compassion, not starting their own pickup game of hot potato.

When people act hurtfully, it’s because they’re hurting. It’s not you or anything you did. You just happened to walk into the picture.

But you should still treat them with respect.

Allow them their space.

Ask a mutual acquaintance to check up on them.

And always, always, be kind.

Be kind. Always. The post without a title.

Comments? Suggestions? Want to have a dialogue about my clumsy analogy with the game “Hot Potato?” Include your input in the “comments” section below…

Copyright © 2016. All Rights Reserved by Pulse On Parenting | Website design by Sweet P Web.

Verified by MonsterInsights