How to talk to teenagers and young adults

A lesson or reminder for all who need it (including me).

1. Happy to see her? Say so. Show it with your face. Light up your eyes.
2. Unless it’s to offer an enthusiastic compliment, do not comment on his clothing, shoes, accessories, tattoos, hair, weight, or anything else appearance-related—especially in the first five minutes. If you don’t feel complimentary about any aspect of his appearance, go back to #1.
3. Ask what she’s been up to. Listen to the answer and then DON’T JUDGE. If you don't like the choices she is making regarding college or career or how she spends her free time, do not say so or in any way reveal it. Don’t offer advice. If you can’t think of anything else to say besides judgment and advice, simply ask what she likes or doesn’t like about what’s been going on.
4. Ask him for a movie, book, TV show, or game recommendation. Young people are often voracious consumers of media of all types, and the choices they make about what to consume are hugely varied from week to week. If he knows you at all, he is very likely to immediately think of something he’s seen or read that will be up your alley, or he’ll say, “I don’t think you would like what I’ve been reading,” and that’s a great conversation starter right there.
5. If her skills lean that way and the timing is right, ask her for help with that problem you’ve been having with your electronics, car, cat, leaky faucet, whatever. This shows that you know what her skills are and that you value them.
6. Listen, listen, listen. You are in the presence of a great mind that has matured in a completely different culture from the one you grew up in. Take a peek at his perspective on life and the world.
7. If she doesn’t seem interested in talking to you, don’t take it personally. By the time most kids turn 16, they have given up on adults' ability to really talk to them. It might take a while for her to recognize that you are worth her time. Meanwhile, find a way to set her free. “Would you like to go out to the yard and see the dog?”
8. Make yourself available for a conversation as equals whenever he gives you a chance to show what you’re made of.

Got more? Add them in the comments.

What I have to work on

Evidently the universe thinks I need more patience. Or evidently I do. Backing up my own feeling that I didn't exercise enough patience in recent comment discussions on my blog, I got two messages today:

This blog post: I've Walked Many Miles in Your Shoes

and this quote:

The job of the spiritual friend is to insult you. . . . If you really want liberation and you really want freedom, you need people around who are going to be provoking you to show you where it is that you still have work to do.
~ Pema Chödrön
My thanks to Jeff for the post and to Laura for bringing the quote to my attention. Oh, and thanks to the spiritual friends who brought me the message, even if it wasn't quite the message they intended for me to receive.

Just sing

My elementary school had a well respected choir. The choir director, Miss Brittingham, would hold rehearsals each year, and a select group of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders would be chosen as that year's choir. Being in the choir was a Big Deal. Choir members got to be out of class each week for rehearsals, they got to go on field trips to performances, and—best of all—they got to say, "I'm in the choir." I tried out all three years I was eligible and got in once. I was thrilled the year I got in, of course, but what I remember more is the years I didn't. Not making the cut was pretty traumatic. I wasn't good enough.

I took choir classes in middle school and junior high, but the choir directors were uninspiring at best and pompous autocrats at worst. They did not improve my singing ability or my self-esteem, and by the time I got to high school, I was done. I had decided that I was, at best, a mediocre singer and that I should limit myself to singing along with the radio.

(I wasn't really wrong, by the way. I am a mediocre singer: my range is pretty limited, and my ability to sing on key... well, it fluctuates.)

So there I was, going through life as a mediocre singer—or rather, not thinking of myself as a singer at all—crooning rock-n-roll lullabies to my babies, belting out classic rock during my commute, shouting out Christmas carols with daughters and nieces who were quite happy to be off key with me.

And then one day at LIFE is Good 2009, Frank and Jeff and Russ said, "Hey, we're doing 'Gloria' for the talent show, and we need backup chicks."

And just like that, I became a backup singer. I've spent the last year singing. I've performed shows in public. I even sang lead on one song in January and plan to do so again in May. It has been pure, perfectly imperfect fun.

And the really interesting thing is that now, in my 40s, because I am doing it, I am becoming a better singer. I have learned so much about technique and breath control and harmonizing and taking cues from the musicians and my fellow chicks. My range is still limited, but it's enough. And I've discovered that when one is performing live music with a rock-n-roll band, being off key now and then is not the end of the world. Usually nobody notices.

G. K. Chesterton said, "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." What he could have added is that by doing, you might find "badly" changing to "better and better," and even if you don't, it can be a helluva good time along the way.

Good stuff on listening and feeling

Wise words from unschooling dad Brad Holcomb

"I now understand that talking interrupts the flow of feeling. If I'm talking about my feelings (talking to myself, or to others), describing them, putting them in words, telling the story of what's going on inside of me, I'm not really FEELING. The talking is an avoidance measure that lessens the [natural flow of feelings]. It increases resistance. I had always defended my blabber blabber as being Good For The Relationship. After all, everyone says that partners need to talk, right? And I was *so* good at talking. I got it from my parents, and their parents, etc. It's in my DNA story... I have words. LOTS of words. The Gift of Gab, some call it.

"My personal breakthrough involved taking a [short-term] personal Vow of Silence... What I found was that I had a 40-year backlog of feelings...

"The more I drop out of words, and the less I force my words onto others against their will, the *better* I can *feel*. That's why, today, I consider 'feeling better' to mean the same thing as 'feeling MORE'."

From Peaceful Partnerships

Right speech

I learned about the Buddhist concept of Right Speech today. In brief, it is the Eightfold Path practice of speaking truthfully, with kindness and mindfulness. In seeking to learn more about Right Speech, I found a nice article by Beth Roth that includes some creative ideas for improving communication with family members. Enjoy!

Right Speech Reconsidered