Modern parents have been coached to build their children's self-esteem by offering lavish praise. What parents often fail to do is prepare them for the inevitable disappointments and failures they will encounter.
If we fail to offer the skills of self-awareness, self-mastery, and resilience to this generation, we are leaving them disadvantaged and ill-equipped, with some in a precarious position as they try to find their way in this increasingly high-stress world.
I remember when I was a teenager and I believed my mother didn't understand a thing about me. Now, of course, I realize what a confused, angry, mixed-up, total pain in the ass I was back then. I also realize my mother was the same age when she had me as I was when I had my first child.
Mrs. Davy Jones. This is what I wrote all over the inside front over of my three-ring notebook in 7th grade. I couldn't write it on the front cover because that was plastered with "Mrs. Paul McCartney."
While I usually speak about economic issues or geopolitic or global issues, today I would like to discuss an issue that's about care for our kids, about the next generation and about a specific danger they are facing: suicide.
How did it happen that so many of our children are going to school, and studying math, and science, and history, and design, and deciding that the best way to get on in the world is to let boys use their bodies?
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" It's been two centuries since the Brothers Grimm and, amazingly, that question and that magical mirror from Snow White are still around. Today, the magical mirror is called the internet.
Teen angst is a feeling that percolates in every clique, every ethnic group, and every socio-economic status. Yes, we as teenagers do have a way of being selfish and sometimes whiney, but there is without a doubt some validity to our gripes.
I realize there are compelling arguments for the legalization of marijuana. But still -- why add another drug to the roster of iffy life choices? And do we really want to add toker-moms and dads to the growing ranks of "cocktail moms" (and dads!)?
The story was called Edna In The Desert; a bratty Brentwood 13-year-old is shipped off to her grandparents for the summer, sans cell phone service or internet access. Edna had a tough technology withdrawal to look forward to along with some serious soul searching