A recent Boston
Globe article (“Data on suicides set off alarm,” March 1,2001) reported that
10 percent of high school students in Massachusetts made some kind of suicide
attempt in the past year, and 24 per cent had thought about it.
These are stunning figures. While
many of these self-reported “attempts” could best be characterized as
gestures (e.g. swallowing six aspirin), unquestionably, alienation and despair
is widespread among our children.
Why is this?
If the subtext of life is survival (for this is the ultimate
outcome of natural selection), and our emotions are supposed to facilitate this
process, how can so many young people, a quarter of the teen population, be
contemplating their own demise?
While hormonal
changes certainly play a role, this is not likely the full explanation:
biology and environment do an intricate dance, and it is often difficult
to separate the two partners.
Furthermore, there seems to be no genetic rationale for suicidal teenagers
(the genes of those who succeeded would be quickly weeded from the population)—with such a
large percentage affected, the explanation must be far more
complicated.
In a sense, the
teenage years are no different than any others: every period of our life involves a quest for emotional
survival. But the teen years are
particularly difficult. For the
first time, children are asked to define and prove themselves in the outside world, and
competition is intense. This can
and does lead to inordinate cruelty—gay and “nerd” bashing are notorious
examples. But even in the absence
of overt cruelty, the teen is often on the defensive as classmates try to
aggressively assert their place in the world.
The community reflects this pressure with close-knit alliances and
concomitant exclusion, the rapid and often unexpected switching of friends to
maintain position and status, and the constant comparison between self and
others. It is, perhaps, a wonder
that any of us survive our teen years without considerable distress.
Listen to the
voices of depressed teens: “I am
worthless, ugly, a failure. No one
listens to me. No one sees me.
Everyone is selfish. You’d
be happier if I were not alive. Everyone
would be happier if I were dead. You
don’t care. Nobody cares.” Often, these feelings accurately reflect the subtext of
messages they are receiving from peers, resulting from the sometimes brutal
competition for resources in the teen community.
Yet, some teens are deeply affected by these messages and others are not. Why do the messages stick to some teens and not others? In my
experience, it is the "voiceless" teenager who is most affected.
In “Giving Your
Child Voice,” I suggested that “voice” is a critical component of
self-esteem and the emotional well being of children. Because it is
different from love and attention, voice must be defined clearly:
“What is ‘voice’?
It
is the sense of agency that makes a child confident that he or she will be
heard, and that he or she will impact his or her environment. Exceptional
parents grant a child a voice equal to theirs the day that child is born. And
they respect that voice as much as they respect their own. How does a
parent provide this gift? By following three "rules:"
1.
Assume that what your child has to say about the world is just as
important as what you have to say.
2.
Assume that you can learn as much from them as they can from you.
3.
Enter their world through play, activities, and discussions: don't
require them to enter yours in order to make contact.
I'm afraid this is not as easy as it sounds, and many
parents do not do it naturally. Essentially, a whole new style of
listening is required. Every time a young child says something, he or she
is opening a door to their experience of the world--about which they are the
world's foremost expert. You can either keep the door open and learn
something of value by asking more and more questions, or you can close it by
assuming you have heard everything worth hearing. If you keep the door
open, you are in for a surprise--your children's worlds are as rich and complex
as your own, even at age two.
If you value your children's experience, of course
they will too. They will feel: "Other people are interested in
me. There is something of value inside me. I must be pretty
good." There is no better anti-anxiety, anti-depressant,
anti-narcissism inoculation than this implicit sense of worth. Children with
voice have a sense of identity that belies their years. They stand up for
themselves when necessary. They speak their mind and are not easily intimidated.
They accept the inevitable frustrations and defeats of life with grace and keep
moving forward. They are not afraid to try new things, to take appropriate
risks. People of all ages find them a joy to talk with. Their
relationships are honest and deep.
Many well-intentioned parents think that they can
create the same effect by saying positive things to their children:
"I think you're very smart/pretty/special etc. But without entering
the child's world, these compliments are seen as false. "If you
really felt that way, you would want to know me better," the child thinks.
Other parents feel that their role is to give advice or educate their
children--they must teach them how to be worthwhile human beings.
Sadly, these parents reject the child's experience of the world entirely and do
great psychological damage--usually the same damage that was done to them.”
Children who receive “voice” from their earliest years are less susceptible to the damaging subtext of teen competition and cruelty. They have a genuine, deep-rooted sense of value and place, and they are not easily shaken from this. While they experience the pain of rejection and exclusion, it does not penetrate to their core. Therefore, they are well protected from despair and alienation.
But what if your teen did not receive “voice" as a young child? Unfortunately, teens (and especially "voiceless" teens) are hesitant to share their thoughts and feelings with parents. As a result, parents often feel helpless. Luckily, a good therapist can earn the trust of a depressed teen and counter the sense of voicelessness. Medication may also help. Treatment is available and may be life saving.