I recently finished a book by singer-songwriter Andrew Peterson that caused me to laugh out loud when he talked about his experience playing at a youth group lock-in, saying lock-ins essentially are everything that is wrong with the world. Why did this make me laugh? Because the local church where my husband works as a traditional music director is holding such an event tomorrow evening and, even more, because I volunteered to be one of the adults on hand during the 14-hour ordeal event. As one who served as a youth minister many moons ago now, I can see the appeal these events have for the youth and the challenges they create for the staff and volunteers.
All that aside, I am both excited and impressed that each of my teenagers is eager to attend this event. For my 17-year-old, one of the main enticing elements is the chance to stay up all night long. Kudos to her on that one because I am already planning my Saturday late-morning and possibly mid-afternoon naps to compensate for Friday night’s lack of sleeping. Of course, the greater appeal for each of the girls is the opportunity to meet and hang out with kids their age. As the unschooling homeschooling and neurodivergent family we are, social events are not easy opportunities to come by. Most of the ones we’ve attended have been orchestrated by me and they have been short lived because so many folks have such busy schedules.
As the event has drawn nearer, I have found myself doling out unsolicited advice and within that advice, I have proffered conflicting suggestions to some of the things I have taught my girls through the years. As I talked to my 17-year-old about that today, she admitted she was a bit confused at some of what I’d told her this week and even wondered, what happened to my mama who has always said the opposite of that? As always, parenting my teenagers tends to be as much about self-reflection and my personal journey as it is about supporting my girls on their journeys.
To that end, today I have spent some time talking to each of them and admitting that some of what I’ve said came through the filter of my own inner 14-, 15-, and 16-year old teenager. In other words, I admitted my (not-so-subtle) efforts to dissuade them from choosing to participate in this upcoming event was actually my own inner teenager’s angst and insecurity over whether I would want to go. Honestly, I am both proud and impressed by both of them and fully support them. Even more, when my oldest suggested maybe she should be more like me when I was a teenager and not go, I have urged her to break from that mold whenever possible because it did not serve me well.
As a parent, it is emotionally difficult for me to realize how desperately my girls crave connection and community and not be able to make that happen for them. Yes, I’ve tried, putting together an autistic teen hangout, and, then, attempting to create an art group of autistic teens we hosted in our small condo space. Unfortunately, neither of these group activities lasted more than 3 or 4 months. Because I understand their loneliness on a deep soul level, I remind myself often that I need to get out of my own way as well as theirs and let them explore the options they have. If I could, I would tell my younger self the same thing and encourage her to explore options like this one.
Community matters no matter how old we are. Friendship is important on our journeys in this life. These are things I believe and know to be true. And it’s why I am excited for them to head off tomorrow night to see what possibilities await them. No matter what else happens, we will continue to seek out opportunities and connections where we can find them. Because of one thing I am certain, these two remarkable young women have much to offer others in community and in friendship, and that remains one of my ongoing prayers for each of them. I know what they bring to the table of friendship and if others are fortunate, they, too, will discover the gifts these two incredible teenagers can provide those who come alongside them on this journey through life.