For a century now we’ve been running this great experiment called adolescence. With the rise of theories on social development, we’ve come to refine the compartmentalization of childhood into such neat little slices of experience and expectation that I’m wondering if maybe it isn’t time to step back and ask ourselves if we’re doing right by the adolescents in our midst or if we aren’t doing more damage than good.
And for once, instead of my usual rants against education, I’m going to pose this question to writers of Young Adult fiction.
Time was, we used to have a ceremony for children as they reached puberty and called them adults. We’d send them on walkabouts, or give them bar (or bat) mitzvahs, administer confirmations, hold sunrise ceremonies… whatever name they are given, many cultures seemed to have in place a ritual recognition separating childhood from adulthood with nothing in between.
And for many decades we did not have a Young Adult fiction category for the same reason. At one point a child was no longer expected to need coddling literature and it was time for them to venture out into the world and learn from the “adult” side of the library.
Since then it seems we’ve created a sort of limbo where people we call teenagers or “young adults” are permitted to exist in a protective cocoon that, presumably, exists to allow for a smoother transition into adulthood. In this protective envelope we find teens yearning for the experiences of adulthood but disinterested in the responsibilities of same. We let them drive cars, but they are still carried under an adult’s insurance coverage and responsibility. We let them have jobs but don’t require they share any of the expenses that adult wage earners are beholden to.
And come graduation from high school there is another four years for them to remain fully out of adulthood, and even then we find many returning home to the roost.
My charge today is to ask: how much does YA literature foster a retardation of maturity?
I know there is the thorny issue of deciding whether fiction reflects or mirrors a culture, and whether it should. This is the uneasy territory find myself considering over and over. Should my stories mirror those experiences most teens are having, or should they, somehow, suggest that there is more to life than grades and proms and dating and shopping and dueling with adults? I look at the teen characters I create, and their stories, and I wonder “Are you nothing more than the result of too many freedoms and not enough responsibilities?”
I wonder if adolescences has created a class of entitlement.
And I wonder if YA literature can do anything about it.
In prepping for my pending residency at school (this weekend!) I am finding I wish I had more time to read. I want more time not only to digest the required reading but to delve further into the issues these books bring up. I want to brush up on my Bettleheim and explore Erik Erikson. I want to read and know more about why we think, as a culture, adolescence as a classification is such a good thing.
I have a full six months between now and graduation from school, between this moment and the one where I have to lecture on something substantive within the field of children’s literature. I have more ideas and more questions than can be answered, much less expounded on, in a half year’s time. I feel like I’m about to be told I can go into the world and build jet planes having only worked on plastic models.
This is it. There is no “adolescence” for me as a writer. My ritual is on the horizon.
A class of entitlement-this is similar to the topic I am exploring for a possible critical thesis topic. An interesting book related to this is Generation Me (I forget the author’s name). Fascinating reading, particularly for a writer of YA literature who is experiencing it first hand through my daughter. See you next week.
Dawn
Next week? I think not, Dawn. Four days!
And part of this post was inspired by my delving into the work of Erik Erikson after reading Nancy Werlin’s Impossible. I know we were told to “brush up” but if you haven’t, and you’re interested in the effects of adolescence, you might want to dip into the Erikson as well.
And I don’t usually publish comments that are more about writers selling their own books, but you do on something I’ve been dancing around, this idea that YA books need to be purpose-written.
While that is one conclusion to my post, I also wonder if the problem really isn’t just YA-centered stories. So often even the purpose-driven storyline ignores the opportunity to show teens working *with* adults to solve problems, or seeking out elders for their wisdom. So often we see teens impossibly solving problems neatly, without the aid of adults, and perpetrating this idea that all conflicts can be resolved, much less fully understood or comprehended.
And sometimes I feel like what I’m reading with YA is an adult fantasy of teen life, written by and for adults. Perhaps that is why YA literature has a large adult audience?
A note of explanation.
My comment above was in response to an author who made a statement in addition to pitching their own book. While I don’t generally approve of authors using blog comment space as their own personal promotional space, said author did provide me with some food for thought, which I felt compelled to reply.
However, it has come to my attention that the author’s publisher is considered an “attack site” and draws the following warning:
“Attack sites try to install programs that steal private information, use your computer to attack others, or damage your system.
Some attack sites intentionally distribute harmful software, but many are compromised without the knowledge or permission of their owners.”
I don’t like censorship, but I will not have my blog used as an instrument to mine other’s data or deliberately compromise their computers. Your computers and data, and mine.
Because of this, I have removed the comment. I apologize to anyone who may have tried to follow-up on that author’s link from this post.