Stoics and Jews

Train up a child...because they need to become adults.

In a recent study, 10,000 twenty-four-year-olds were asked, "Are you an adult?"

51% percent said, "No."

Extended adolescence, arguably the most pressing issue of our time, is a significant problem facing our country.

Before the 1940s, the term 'teenager' held little significance. The first widespread use of the word occurred in the 1940s when advertising executives sought to target a new audience. The term gained prominence after an article titled 'Teenager Bill of Rights'appeared in the New York Times [1945], outlining the rights of teenagers post-World War II.

Since then, teenagers have evolved into a powerful, influential subgroup. The advertising executives of the 1940s were onto something; today, the combined spending power of millennials and Gen Z teens is nearly $3 trillion, a significant force that has shaped media, culture, and even the business strategies of companies like Toys R' Us, which hopes we "never grow up." Even Tay Tay laments the fact that, inevitably, she had to grow up.  

Today, it is common for the thoughts and practices surrounding adolescence to extend into someone's late 20s. This 'extension' is a leading force in driving the marriage and population decline, as well as increased rates of anxiety, depression, and social misfunction. A leading university president, when asked, "What is the number one issue facing college students today," reasoned:

"They lack critical thinking skills. They can't think for themselves. They have little to no resilience. All this 'lack' leads to anxiety, depression, and mental health issues..."  

And here is a hard truth: parents are primarily to blame.

Professional Dog Trainers

As a parent, your role in fostering independence is crucial. When you constantly think for your child, your child will never learn to think for themselves.

For centuries, Greek and Jewish Cultures have understood this. Both cultures have longstanding matriculation processes—a rite of passage or coming of age when a child becomes an adult. Both processes culminate at 12 or 13 years old when a child is no longer expected to think and act like a child.

"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways." — Paul

Emotionally, physically, and psychologically, there is not much difference between an 11-year-old and a 12-year-old. Which begs the question: What changes?

The parents do.

A child is not magically transformed into an adult during his Bar Mitzvah. What changes is how the community receives that child. They treat him [or her] differently. They treat him like an adult [because he is].

This is why most programs aimed at helping kids mature ultimately fail. Kids do not need help. Mom and Dad do. Professional dog trainers figured this out ages ago. How do you train a dog? You spend 20% of your time with the dog and 80% training the owner.

Your 22-year-old can't do his laundry because you're still doing it.

Your 24-year-old can't cook because she’s had access to Uber Eats since she was 12.

Your 20-year-old sees wisdom as a byproduct of Google and ChatGPT.  

It is hard for your 18-year-old to think or speak for himself when he is still sucking on the teat of your coddling and affirmation.

If we want our kids to think and behave like adults who can think, fend, and provide for themselves, we must intently bring them along. Remember, our kids are capable of more than we think. If we want our kids to be a blessing to the world instead of a burden, we must give them room to grow [and fail].

I recently gave a lecture concerning this very thing: extended adolescence. I gave an example, referring to my 11-year-old; some time ago, there was a period of days when he forgot to take his lunch to school. His mother, busy caring for his three siblings, would cover for him, gracefully bringing his lunch to school. Then, one day, I told her to stop. That evening, I met with my son and told him I loved him—that I was proud that he was my son—that he was strong and brave. But this was the last day his mother was bringing his lunch to school...

"Son, you are 11 years old; you must be responsible for ensuring you have your lunch. We work so that you can have food to eat. We buy the food, pack the food, and supply the football-adorned container to transport the food. All you have to do is get it to school. Today is the last day your mom brings your lunch to school. The next time you forget your lunch, you have three options:

1) Steal one. [I strongly encouraged him NOT to do this, as it will lead to greater trouble. But I recognize that bleak times call for extraordinary measures]

2) Beg or borrow from your classmates.

3) Go without lunch. Missing a meal will not kill you."

Since that talk, he rarely forgets his lunch.

The Briefcase

As my lecture ended, a woman approached me and politely questioned my methods. Fearing that my children would feel as if I did not support them, she encouraged me that maybe there was room for a little more 'grace.' She did not seem eager to receive my reply;

"Grace is not a substitute for responsibility. Sometimes, the most grace-filled thing we can do is let our children 'feel' consequences. The sting of a bee only hurts for a moment. Missing a lunch, failing a quiz, or being cut from a team is not ultimate. More accurately, these things are moments of testing and proving, an opportunity for our young people to think, feel, process, and respond. When parents intervene and overreact by removing or shortchanging this process, we hurt our kids more than we help them..."

A quick rebuttal: She told me there are times when her husband forgets his briefcase or an important document, and she has to run it to the office for him. To which I replied, "Maybe his mother should have let him miss a lunch or two…"  

And, to be sure, there is room for grace in all circumstances. One does not become an adult overnight. As mom and dad, you know your child better than anyone. You decide at what degree and speed you usher your kid into adulthood. But know this: your child(ren) is far more capable than you think—it takes less time to build strong children than to repair broken adults [a play on Douglas].

Children are incredibly resilient. They are tough, bright, creative, and thoughtful. Of course, it is hard to see their resilience when you are looking out the window of a snowplow, moving aside everything that may impede your child's progress.

What if the thing impeding their progress is you?


Chris Harper is the Chief Story Teller at Betterman, and this post originally appeared on hi personal blog, Good Trouble.