So, if I want to be an advocate and I think that an advocate is necessary, how would an advocate help?

What I have learned in the last few years is that there are many programs, organizations, and individuals working to help teens. There are so many great people in schools, churches, youth centers, and other places to help teens. However, nearly all of us work in isolation. We work within larger organizations that focus much more widely than teens so we and the teens we work with get lost in the shuffle. Many of us work alone and try to create programs and gather resources from the ground up and wear ourselves out in the process.

I believe that a larger effort focused exclusively on teens could coordinate these efforts, connect the advocates, locate resources, and research the most successful programs. We could be more successful together.

Here’s how I would like to help:

Voter reg at YA Book Fests and other spaces.  

-I have contacted 2 Teen Book Festivals myself to ask them if they could have voter registration available and have been told that all of their exhibitor space was taken.

Help to find legal resources for teens.

Advocate for better and more widely available mental health services and health services.

Research the best ways to help kids make the transition from childhood to adulthood happily, sanely, and confidently. How do they do it in other countries?

Coordinate and more deliberately program events and opportunities for teens to hear from the people who care about them – i.e. YA writers, educators, youth advocates. Events where teens can learn about opportunities and get support from each other.

Help with employment and financial security resources- also with child care resources and food security which are a major concern for so many teens.

We could be more successful together in a community of advocates if we were connected.

That’s what I want to do.

Donate here:

Help Me Become a Teen Advocate

So, I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time. I’ve worked with teens for years and I’ve raised teens and am doing so still. Teens are unique. They need a voice and adults who will raise their voices.

Here’s why:

First, teens are different than children. In my experience, children are “easier.” They’re an easier sell because they’re small, they’re cute, they’re funny. They can’t make decisions for themselves. Their parents, guardians, teachers, and others make decisions for them. As long as they’re safe and can play, they’re usually happy. They have many advocates. Expectations for them are flexible and their path to happiness is varied. They are allowed to try many activities and are praised for their efforts.

Teens are not children. Do they have things in common with children? Sure. They no legal standing until they’re 18 when nearly all adult responsibility is dropped on them in one fell swoop. Unlike children, they’re not willing to accept “because I say so” as a reason anymore. They have way more responsibilities. They can drive, choose some of their classes, decide on their career and college interests, and have sex. They are big. They sometimes smell bad and sometimes say ugly hurtful things that they really mean. They have very few pure advocates and they face multiple gatekeepers in every aspect of their lives.

Second, teens are not adults. They can’t truly make decisions for themselves. They have increased responsibilities, but their freedoms don’t increase at the same rate. They’re told that they have to have their whole life’s path figured out by the time they turn 18, and at the same time face the pressures of high academic and social expectations. They have complicated families and family responsibilities. They’re not usually free to do what they want or to say what they want because their spheres of expression are usually limited to home and school. They don’t have their own spaces.

The usual response to the challenges that teens face is something like, “Ugh, everybody is miserable in middle/high school.” The greatest expectation people have for adolescence is that a kid survives it to actually “start their lives.” There’s no transition period. A kid goes from the fun and play of childhood to the control and stress of middle and high school to the freedom and dangers of adulthood/college with no gradual release or official expectations for increased responsibilities.

How can we be surprised when they struggle? Why do we just accept that they will struggle as a matter of fact?

I really want to change the way we view adolescence. I want to do it by working with teens and asking them what they need. I don’t have any interest in telling them what to do. It’s time to be an advocate and an ally, not an authority.

I need your help to get there.

Please share the link below. Please donate. We’ve raised $220 so far. Let’s keep it going! 

Donate Here to Help Me Become a Teen Advocate
Please Donate to Help Me Become a Teen Advocate

I have shied away from writing about my own teenage children that I made myself in this space. They have a right to their privacy and I don’t want to violate that. I love them and respect them and their independence, even if they are THE WOSRT™.

Last week, though was out of control and this story is more about the world that teenagers have to face than my kids specifically.

Back in the olden days of the late 80s, the biggest threat I faced while attending high school was getting caught up in a hallway fight, or being written up for being tardy to class. My friends and I faced all the normal friendship and social challenges that every adolescent faces and I had to stare down the dysfunction of my home life, but school was predictable, regular, and even boring. Go to class. See friends. Take tests. Repeat.

Today is very different.

My boys Carl 17 and Lance 14 attend a suburban Virginia Secondary School. The school houses students from grade seven through twelve and has over nearly 4,000 students in total.

The boys like the school very much, are involved in activities, sports, and clubs, and are generally happy there.

Last week though….

Monday – 4/16 No school. There was a workday for teachers to end the third quarter. The boys slept late and relaxed.

Tuesday – 4/17 A student was on PCP in the library.

Wednesday – 4/18 A student brought and distributed pot brownies to friends. Lance, a freshman, came home and told me he had heard that a student had brought a gun to school. I assured him that we would have heard something from the school if that were true.

Thursday – 4/19 The boys arrive at school to find a huge security presence. Security staff, police officers, and others are all over the building. The word is that some boys had told friends that they planned to shoot up the pep rally that was scheduled for that afternoon. (Why would any school hold a pep rally on a Thursday at the end of the day?) I start getting frantic and panicked texts from both boys. I start calling the attendance line at school to tell them that they boys are leaving school RIGHT NOW. I’m communicating with the boys and my husband through frantic texts and phone calls. April 19 is the anniversary of Waco and the Oklahoma City Bombing, so I am always nervous that day. The boys leave school at 9:30 am along with many of their fellow students. It’s not remotely worth risking their lives. We receive an email late that afternoon from the school saying that there was a threat, but that it’s been investigated and deemed not credible. We are not reassured.

Friday – 4/20 After much consideration and trepidation, the boys go back to school. It’s the anniversary of Columbine and the day of a national walkout to protest lax gun laws. I get a call from Lance at about 9:30, “Mom, there’s a fire at school, and I can’t find Carl.” He found Carl and we found out that the fire was the result of a student setting fire to a toilet paper dispenser in one of the bathrooms. The students are terrified and angry, and those feelings are going to get discharged somehow. Setting fire to some toilet paper seems pretty mild.

How much do you think these kids learned last week? Academically? Absolutely nothing.

However, they did learn again that their school is a place to be fearful. It’s a place where violence is threatened. It’s a place that they need to flee to avoid dying.

I don’t ever remember feeling unsafe at Hampton High School. Never. The only thing I remember fearing was embarrassment and getting poor grades. That’s it. I only fled the school to go to McDonalds or 7-11 for something incredibly unhealthy to eat or to take my friends to a comic books store or home.

I do know this: My sons have been changed by last week. They have been stripped of any sense of security in the place where their minds should be open and relaxed to learn. Their teachers and other adults cannot keep the safe. We have let my kids and all the other kids in this country down. No school has been untouched by gun violence. Schools are now all places where a shooting might happen. They are places where angry, frightened children and teens spend much of their time focused primarily on surviving their day. They are buildings full of people who don’t have control over their safety or their emotions.

School is absolutely and fundamentally not safe.

My husband asked, “Why can’t they just Skype into their classes from home?”

My sons want to know what to do with their overwhelming emotions and they want to know why these things are allowed to happen.

I don’t know what to tell them.

I got in touch with my local Moms Demand Action for Common Sense Gun Laws chapter and told them I want to be more involved. I’ve joined the Events Committee and will be pursuing more places and spaces to mobilize people to demand that lawmakers protect our kids and their schools.

It’s a start.

So, what have I been doing?

I certainly haven’t been posting here.

I’ve been bogged down in the “daily-ness” of life and have’t put in the time to be here and say what I want to say.

I’ve been frustrated.

While I love blogging here and communicating with you all, I’ve been frustrated that I haven’t been able to affect any REAL change.

I want to do more, say more, and make a difference. I want to make change, be a voice for teens, and more importantly help them find their voices. I can’t do it alone and I can’t do it by wishing I could. I need your help.

For several years, I have dreamed of attending the  Children’s Defense Fund’s Samuel DeWitt Proctor Institute for Child Advocacy Ministry in Tennessee. Here is their description from the website.

“Movement-building is hard work. We can’t do it alone. We can’t do it virtually. One generation alone can’t get it done. We need each other and deep spiritual sustenance to keep going and create the just world our children deserve. CDF’s Proctor Institute is where we can sing and pray, strategize and struggle, organize and advocate, and share our stories—our hurts and hopes, pain and passion for justice, in Beloved Community. The spiritual home of the children’s movement, the Proctor Institute on the storied grounds of CDF Haley Farm is where we refresh and renew to that we can continue the hard, hopeful, sacred work of realizing Dr. King’s vision for every child and ending child poverty. Plan now to join us, July 16-20. We can’t wait to welcome you home.”

If I want to build a movement, I can’t do it alone.

I need allies and mentors. I will need connections to the world of advocates and movement building.

Every year, I want to attend and every year, money is short. I want this year to be different.

I’m taking a risk and asking for your help. Please consider donating to help me attend this incredible Institute where I can learn and gain skills to begin and sustain a movement for teen voice.

I promise you, I will make the most of it.

But I need your help.

Donations are greatly needed and so is sharing. The more people who are involved, the better!

Thank you so much.

Help Me Become a Teen Advocate