Adolescence: Healthy dose of fear for better parenting
My daughter is growing up so fast.
That sentence has lingered in my mind for the last few years. It became a staple of sorts when she turned 9. That year brought a more substantial interest in friends from school, and I could see that parents are no longer the âbe-all, end-allâ in her social life.
With that realization always comes the standard set of parental emotions: pride first and foremost, then melancholy, and lastly, a gallery of fears.
First, I encountered the fear of not being able to meet own unreasonably high standards. Thatâs what parents who grew up without one parent usually do: set the bar too high or, sadly in some cases, not care at all.
Then came the others: fear that I wonât act appropriately when difficult decisions arise, the fear that I wonât see the issue or, if I do see it, that I won't recognize the problem, or the fear that I will realize it but react too late or be unable to help my child.
It all boils down to the crippling fear of losing control in the world you donât recognize, where the potencil victim is the one dearest to your heart.
minor spoilers for Netflix show AdolescenceâŚ
This fear is an overarching theme in Adolescence. This Netflix limited series shocked the worldwide audience with its emotionally charged depiction of one familyâs dynamics when bad news tears them apart. Youâve probably watched the show or are about to watch it. Or maybe you've heard about it, but you think you can't handle it, so it's off your watchlist. That is something that I really don't recommend.
I could spend hours discussing what made my stomach turn inside out, from mercilessly up-close one-shot episodes that make viewers feel like dirty voyeurs suckling on the tit of suffering, to the excellent cast led by the Stephen Graham, who I discovered as he waited for âzee Germans to comeâ in amazing Snatch. His astonishing performance in Adolescence falls nothing short of his amazing writing skills, as he's the co-creator of the show.
HARD TALK
Two excellent conversations in Adolescence resonate deeply with meâone between the inspector and his son, and the other between the Miller parents. The first one illustrates a parent's evident inability to listen attentively, regardless of how hard they try, leading to their disconnection from their child's world.
In my experience, this disconnect often has little to do with the parent's desire to listen but rather with a lack of willpower to remain present. Numerous factors contribute to this, none serving as excusesâparents often tend to âdesyncâ from their children nowadays for various reasons, including lifestyle and communication changes that widen the generational gap.
The second conversationâ a mad, beautiful, haunting scene performed to gut-wrenching perfection by Christine Tremarco and Stephen Graham âembodies parental fears tightly woven into disturbing paranoia. The show creators label the series âwhydunnitâ instead of âwhodunnit," but when the credits of the fourth episode begin to roll, you understand that not even âwhyâ is the focal point.
PARENTS, THE POWERLESS
If you're about to experience this show as a parents, you'll soon realize youâre descending into a bottomless pit of helplessness, exacerbated by the story's universality and the reality that it could happen to anyone. The Miller family also serves as an analysis of the working class and the demons lurking in the homes of those who, oblivious to the hell that awaits their kids on the other side of the black mirror, grasp for a sliver of peace after a grueling day of work by pacifying their children with iPads.
Because parents are humans, they get tired, but the algorithmic feed patiently waits and provides. Every. Single. Time.
In a world where entertainment often tries to judge or point fingers, even when coming from a good place and with good intentions, Adolescence simply reveals the hells we create for ourselves or participate in involuntarily.
When comparing my childhood to that of my daughter's, even though I spent part of mine in war and as a refugee, later being a victim of violence in war-torn Sarajevo because local kids couldnât stand my âforeignerâ accent, I had it easier than my daughter.
She has the support of two parents (unlike me), sheâs completely safe and lacks for nothing financially. Sheâs fed, dressed as she wishes, and has her privacy. However, my generation had the luxury of quieter times, and much more opportunities for self-reflection.
This era may make us all interconnected, but that is why itâs easy to get lost in the noise around us or pay attention to unimportant distractions, such as mean comments.
When I was getting punched in the face during the nineties, my anxiety would often vanish simply because my âenemyâ wasnât in the room with me when I got home. Today, kids get beaten up or humiliated and are sent a video afterward, posted for the whole world to see.
As parents, we canât say that itâs "not important" or that our kids should âbrush it offâ - living in fear of becoming victims of cyber violence or putting into practice the âteachingsâ from apathetic, sociopathic âinfluencersâ is one of the worst types of hell I can imagine.
That is why shows like Adolescence are really helpful. They recalibrate our parental compasses with fear and healthy paranoia. It is, in essence, a true existential horror drama that amplifies the possibilities we donât want and reminds us to talk with our kids. Talk often, stay connected, never doubt, and be open-minded.
Our time has passed; their time is now. We can only stay alert and hope for the best while doing our best.
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