Letter to my son

Dearest one

Summers are for family time and we have had so many good times together. Remember Anna Bay at Port Stephens? How we would spend hours exploring the rock pools, climbing the cliffs to where the sea pounded against the rock face and sent plumes of spray into the air. You always went so close, so near to the danger spot to experience the full force of the waves. I loved how we would eat an early dinner then pull out the card games, Pictionary, blockus, the ‘I know’ game … Or we would sit on the cliff face and watch the whales migrating up the coast, or back down as they followed seasonally the Great Eastern Australian Current – the exhilaration of watching them breach and who would be first to see them.

And remember when we would go further up the NSW coast to Diamond Beach, and Blueys Beach, and once to the NT Daintree Forest, eating green ants and bush tucker, holidaying with other families, swimming all day, reading, walking, 4WD exploring, fishing, visiting nature parks. Then there was our adventure in the Centre, driving through the outback and camping at remote sites, cooking over open fires, walking through ancient meteorite craters, sleeping on the desert floor in our swags too terrified to venture out to pee for fear of snakes and scorpions…

I will miss you these summer holidays. Your brothers will miss you.

I’m sad that you won’t be with us for our adventures back in our adopted homeland. You’ve told me you don’t want to come, but now, the reality is setting in and it is really painful to hear you starting to realize what in actual fact is going to happen. I asked you what your ideal scenario would be and you are adamant that you want me and your brothers to stay here so that you can have your holiday here with your friends. But that isn’t going to happen.

Of course, if things were different, ‘normal’ perhaps, even if you didn’t want to come, there wouldn’t be any choice in it. You’d just have to. At your age, neither child nor adult, it’s hard to find your place. Regardless, you should be with us. But you and I both know that you will refuse to get in the car, and there can’t be a huge fight leaving home, or at the airport. It’s a shame that you won’t converse about this. I’ve tried so many times over the last month in particular.

I know I said I didn’t want you to come with me if you were going to walk out on us when on holiday and end up goodness only knows where in a city that never sleeps. You couldn’t, or wouldn’t tell me that you would agree on what freedoms or otherwise you would have. I also said how I did not want to take you on holiday, and have it ruined for your brothers and myself with the stress of not knowing where you were if you behaved as you have here. We all need a break from that, and you probably do too.

I don’t think you will get the holiday you want. Someone has to be responsible for you, and so far you have refused to go to your aunt, uncle and cousins on the farm, to M and G here, to your grandmother, to family friends, all of whom would be happy to have you. All of whom are united in their support of us taking the opportunity to go on this holiday.

So your father has agreed to pick you up. I know you said you’d refuse to go with him too. But this is how things have transpired. You refuse to come with me, and you refuse to go with anyone else. Let your father take responsibility for you. Talk to him, ask to go with your friends, but expect that there will be expectations in return: it is actually ok to let your parents know where you are going and agree a time to return. It will work out. If you make it.

It has been a long two months of hoping and trying to find a way through to you, that a holiday was worthy of working towards, of saving for, of enjoying after studying hard… but to no avail.

I will worry about you. I will only be a phone call away. I will text you every day. If you need somewhere to go, or for help or support, I’ve given you a list of those who love you who will come and get you any time of the day or night.

I will miss you. But there will be other holidays, and maybe you will come with us next time. It may seem cruel to you, but as much as you are my priority, I must also take care of myself. I know you will be fine, you are strong, capable and you do know what you need to do to be safe and well. Remember to listen to that voice inside: as I’ve always told you, it is there to guide you.

I miss you already. I love you and I will see you soon, when we all come back together for a new, prosperous year together. Every day is a new day.

I love you.

Mum x

Then and Now

My, how things change. Me: green. Teen1: blue

THEN (April 2010 to present)	NOW (December 2010)
“I think one or two dances a term is enough, you don’t need to go to everything.”	“Are you off to that dance tonight?”
“It is entirely reasonable, acceptable and respectful for you to ask permission to go out, tell me where you are going and who with, accept that I will talk to the parents, I will come and get you, you need to be home at the agreed time.”	“I’m going now.” “Where to?” “Dunno. Bye” “Bye”
“There’s no need to be out late during the school week; in summer maybe when it’s lighter, but get your homework done and get your sleep.”	What time did you get in last night? If you are going to go out every night of the week, don’t ask me to ring you in absent on a school day.
“If you walk out this door, I will track you down, call your friends and I will find you.” And I did.	I don’t.
“If you are not home by 11pm, I will call your friend’s parents.” And I did.	I don’t.
“If you are not home by 1am, I will call your friend’s parents.” And I did	I don’t.
“If you are not home by 2am, I will call the police.” And I did.	I don’t. But I might.
“No, you are not going out”	“Can you at least have the courtesy of telling me where you are going?”
“Where are you going, you need to talk to me, what do you need, is there something I can do, do you realize the implications of your actions, you need to take responsibility for your actions, consequences have to be faced, your life could be so much easier, I will do whatever I can to support you, if you don’t want to live here you can go to your father, stop treating this house and your family with such disrespect, what would be a solution to this situation, can you tell me what you want…. “SHUT UP”	“I’m here if you need me.” I love you .
2am Tropical Escape muffin baking	Couplands on the way home from work
3am housework	List of household chores for each boy
All night waiting up.	Writing blog posts into the night… paying bills, and actually getting a lot done…
Counselling for Teen1	Counselling for me
Him: Stealing alcohol	Me: Don’t buy to store any alcohol. Buy to drink it instead.
7.00 – 8.30am Mon-Fri, 10 minute intervals “Time to wake up… you need to get up now…Come on… you have to get out of bed now… For goodness sake, get up… no you are not sick… I mean now… I mean NOW… get out of your bed… you have to have to have to have to have to have to…”	7.00 – 8.30am Mon-Fri 7am: “Time to get up.” 8.20am: “I’m leaving for work now.” (occasional loss of cool and a frustrated shouting match in sheer exasperation)
(phone call from High School) “oh hello, Mr X… oh my gosh, no… I didn’t know, this is dreadful… what can we do… I think we need to… of course I’ll come in to meet you … let me talk to Teen1… of course… this is terrible… I am so worried… I will do (this), I will do (that), how can I (whatever)….	(phone call from High School) “Hi, Mr X. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll do what I can. I’ll get back to you. ”
A little pocket money for doing very little	No pocket money
He applied for debit card on bank account.	All his savings gone.
Connecting with Fockers, building networks, engaging with other parents	Disengagement from Fockers. Scaffolding own support from friends and family. Shamefully very rude to one Focker who was worried the week T1 had the ‘flu, cos she hadn’t seen him at her house for a few days and was worried he might have harmed himself. (feeling a tad guilty about my loss of cool)
Texting T1s friends at 2am to find out where he is.	Send him one final text around 11 or 12 telling him I expect him home, then don’t look at my phone again.
Dragging T1 out of Focker households in the middle of the school day, and middle of the night. Driving the streets looking for him.	I go to work during the day. I go to bed at night.
“Do you realize your potential to achieve whatever you want… you have so much potential… we want you to achieve and be the best you can be.” “Stop fucking talking to me about my potential.”	“Ok. So long as you know if you don’t go to school you limit your options. It’s your choice. I know what you are capable of and I hope you find what makes you happy.”
Drugs: “Why…Don’t… bad choice… addiction… ruin your life… don’t make the wrong turn…scientific proof shows… drug scene ugliness…talk to me about this… I can find help for you…” “I just fucking like it ok? You don’t know anything, it doesn’t do any of that shit to my brain…”	“Your choice. Your life. You know the risks. Bring drugs into this house, I will call the police and I mean it.” “ My mate and I have decided not to do that shit anymore during the week.”
11,12pm,1, 2am “are you wasted?... I’m not stupid you know… any more of this and I will check you in to a rehab centre…”	11,12pm,1, 2am “I am pleased you are home safely.”
Seek advice from every agency	Continue to seek solutions, or create ones collaboratively with school or alternative school receptive to change and remodeling interactions.
Support school’s solutions as being the only option.	Present alternative view points relevant to son’s unique situation.
Post: In the Beginning July 26 2010 ” I will not be six months down the track from today, and facing a worse case scenario, wish I had talked to (support agencies), or found the information and the resources I needed, only for it to be, by then, too late.”	December 2010 It is never too late to do anything for your teenager. Never. I know that I did what I could in the circumstances. I could have done more. And less. I was sometimes right and sometimes wrong. I made good and not so good decisions. I am satisfied I stuck to my values. I am accepting of letting Teen1 go. I won’t ever stop parenting. But I give myself permission to walk away when it is necessary in the moment to do so.

Certificate of Fantastic Awesome Parenting Attainment

I wagged some 4^th form science classes. I would be terrified I’d get caught, so it was hardly worth it for all the anxiety I went through. I marveled at friends who wagged a lot and didn’t give a damn, or at least that’s the impression they conveyed. I think I wagged other classes during high school, but not so many. I always had a fear of authority.

Obviously, this fear of authority is not genetic or T1 would be a different child. If it were genetic, then the strength by which the Ex has little or no respect for authority (tax law, road rules, safety guidelines etc) would crush any genetic influence of mine.

I never heard of anyone wagging his or her end of year presentation ceremony. Until last week. My son didn’t go to his final assembly. Not that I was there to witness this.

I had to go away for two days. It took a lot to get me to go away for a night. T2 and T3 are always keen on staying with friends. T1 refused to let me organize for him to go anywhere. He could look after himself, he said. At 15, he probably can but that isn’t the point. Anyway, a session with my occasional shrink, Nigel, put things in perspective.

Work + professional development opportunity = money, independence, personal growth and development, fun, time out, time with other adults.

So I packed up, locked up house and went. I think T1 only realized I was gone when I phoned the next day at 8am to encourage him to get up and go to his assembly.

You never know, I said, maybe school has found a way for you to get your Certificate of Attainment and you will cross the stage with your friends, and if not, you will be there out of respect for them and support for your mates.

What he said to that comment could only be described as pure derision.

When I got home, there was a message on my machine from the school. T1 is being given his Certificate of Attainment, and the school wanted him and me to know so that T1 could make sure he was there when his name was read out.

As far as I am aware, he didn’t have to do anything additional last week after all to gain the CofA. Perhaps, they awarded it for other reasons, maybe it was not such a dire situation afterall, maybe they moved the goal posts (again) for him, maybe, like me, they are accepting that they can’t change or force him by threat or punishment (coming back all next week to complete school hours and course work) to change his behaviour or attitude.

Whatever it was, and I will find out, he gets to go on to Year 11.

T1’s response: I told you they’d give it to me and I didn’t have to do anything else for it. I’m going out now. Bye. (Slam of door).

He got it this time, but I truly wonder how.

Finally. Hooray, it is the end of the school year. We got there. I got there. I really think I deserve a Certificate of Fantastic Awesome Parenting (FAP) Attainment all of my own! I spent huge hours at or talking to the school, did some incredible research and presentations, and influenced positively any number of people. My son is still alive. I should have limped bruised and bleeding across that school stage myself to collect my honour.

How about you parents – you surely deserve your Certificate of FAP too!

Certificate of Achievement in...

I was having a conversation with my 15 year old nephew at a family function recently. Asked about how Teen1 was doing and what subjects he was taking next year, I told him that apparently, Teen1 has not gained his Certificate of Achievement for Year 10 that will allow him to go on to Year 11.

“Do you have to have that?”, he asked.

Well, that said a lot really. The fact my nephew didn’t know that it was possible not to get it, indicates he’s doing what we’d hope of most Year 10 kids. That they are achieving.

Tomorrow is my son’s end of year presentation assembly. I have no idea what he will get. Or if he will even show up.

In the last month, he’s left the house. Not literally. He still comes home. Eats baked beans and ignores the left over roast chicken, scoffs the Tropical Escape Muffins and takes whatever lunch snacks for the week are in the cupboard. He went through a few weeks of returning suspiciously stoned some nights (“I get it for free from my mates, but I’ve decided now not to smoke during the week”). He wagged school two or three days a week for a few weeks, a couple of times on days I dropped him off on my way to work. He went out every night the week before school exams returning often around 10.30 – 11pm ‘exhausted’, he said. (He was exhausted?). He canned (no, not ‘caned’ but ‘canned’) his exams, tagging two of his exam papers (“I didn’t know anything else to write, and I was bored so I had to do something”) and on being referred for his graffitical error he just walked out of the DP’s office. ("He was talking to someone and I got bored"). He refused to get out of bed to go to the last of his exams. (refer para below on the medical certificate).

What happened? A consequence was meted out, of course.

The school advised me that he was not allowed to go on the Year 10 Camp, to tramp one of our national sub alpine South Island tracks.

To be honest. I was gutted. Upon hearing the DP’s directive, I fleetingly became a 4^th former who was being told this as if it were happening to me and I experienced horror, embarrassment, humiliation, sadness, desperation, desire for atonement…. And then I snapped back into being a mother - and I experienced all those states all over again (except atonement maybe).

The school said that they could not let him go on the basis that they could not trust that he would be a good representative of the school.

I cogitated on this for a bit. And then I got frustrated. And mad. Representing the school in the middle of the alps with a pack on your back and a 15k walk to the next hut and the next meal ahead of you? Hard to stuff up the only available choice open to you.

Boys. 14 to 15. Need physical activity. Challenge. Fear. Comradeship. Experience. Battling and submitting to the raw power of nature.

Given there isn’t a boot camp or war to send him off to (a male friend told me that boys this age are hard wired for war), well then, I would go in to the school with an aim to reverse their decision or at least, air my concerns.

I prepared my arguments. Sorted my references from reputable psychologists, physical trainers, and community programmes. I asked Teen1 if he’d be prepared to go to camp if I went in to bat on his behalf and he said – surprise, surprise – he would.

Then he got even sicker. Really really sick. A doctor’s visit three days before camp departure date elicited a medical certificate basically saying that there was no way a boy with a chest infection, high temperature, aching body and headaches which had been going on for two weeks (over the exam period…..) would be fit enough to climb a mountain with a pack on his back.

Consequences. Certified medically unfit. Exams not finished. No attainment cerificate for Year 10. No camp with mates.

Instead he spent a week almost coughing up his insides while clearing grounds at local cemeteries doing the Community Service Camp Option.

I’m not really sure what Teen1 could be certified as achieving this year. Maybe aging his mother by ten years at least? Or, possibly, he’s helped me become a better parent for having to let him go.

I hope all parents enjoy seeing their child cross the stage at their presentation assembly. No matter what is written on the certificate any of them receive, we know we give them our all round certified love.

Consequences - when do we learn?!

The term ‘consequences’ is a much maligned word in my home. My children physically blanch if I use the word. I’ve had cause to reflect on this word, and on matters of crime and punishment quite frequently over the last term.

As a (occasional) member of the kapa haka group, Teen1 had an opportunity to attend the Manu Korero Māori secondary schools’ speech competition that was being held in Dunedin. Over 800 students from around the country attended. It is a two-day showcase of all that is aspirational, inspirational and forward focused for our young people. My son was not permitted by the school to attend.

Normally, I would have accepted a consequence being set by the school. I had in August accepted that he was not allowed to go with his rugby team to the South Island representative games. He had missed practices because of detentions; this led to a distance between him and the team; his general decline behaviourally and physically over winter had added to his disengagement, and he decided ( against my wishes) that he wanted to drop out of the team. I went along with the decision of the school to deny him the chance to represent the school in his former chosen sport.

But the Manu Korero incident rankled me, and I had to spend some time working out why and whether I had good reason for it to do so.

I kept coming back to my instinctive feeling: that he should have been allowed to go. This was an opportunity to support one’s classmates, to be exposed to other kids - hundreds of them - who are achieving, who do have focus, who wear their uniforms with pride, who wear their deep sense of Self with even greater pride and mana. This was a chance for kids like my son, who are a bit lost, to bear witness to their peers’ efforts, to what it means to work hard and most importantly, to represent family, whānau, community and school. The students who make it to this competition come with more than just academic achievement behind them. Most come with the expectations and legacy of their elders supporting them and this is what shines through as they make speeches that resound with the passion, intellect and dedication reminiscent of some of our great orators. These young people truly are that good.

For me, it was about more than just going to this particular event. For some kids, like my son, once they start going off the rails, opportunities become limited. That’s understood and largely accepted for society to function: do the crime, do the time etc. There is so much out there to support the best of the best, to provide scholarships to those who excel, and many wonderful opportunities for so many children to join in and have a go. I’ve just finished reading the teenage version of “Chicken Soup for the Soul” and I applaud all the young people and their enormous successes profiled in that book, but, if I have to digest another chicken soup story any time soon, I’m scared I might choke.

I wonder if punishment should be put to one side occasionally, and the access to potential inspirational activities for “derailed kids” could be allowed? That is, have faith that they will rise to the occasion. Letting them go isn't a reward. It is an opportunity to effect change. I’ve mentioned in previous posts my search to find or create alternative options for kids who have potential (they all do of course), who are not ‘offenders’ by law, but who are kicking back at authority and limiting their options.

Manu Korero was a benign opportunity to expose my son, and a couple of others who also missed out, to an event that may have had a positive effect on him. It may have been a leap of faith to let him go, but someone has to leap across the chasm that is widening between him and positive, inspirational role modelling.

I did contact the school and expressed my views. I was heard and acknowledged. I skirted the fine line of not being one of ‘those’ parents ie: not demanding, or overbearing, but communicating a reasoned argument on the basis that it was of direct relevance to my son and could add to his building a positive attitude towards the school for his remaining years there (the universe being willing).

What I have now is a boy who learned the haka, wanted to participate, but was not allowed to attend. This has heightened even more his sense of disaffection with the school. Then in supposed retaliation, the little blighter (there’s an old fashioned word!) wagged school the afternoon of the event. Honestly! When will he learn that aggravation is not the answer???

What do you think? Should authority figures sometimes make an exception to misdemeanors and, with an eye on the distant future for our kids, instead of limiting opportunity, create it for them? Is this what we need to demand more of in our schools/ society? Is it realistic to do so?

Supporting all parents who follow their intuition to question school dictates occasionally – for the right reasons.

Triumvirate: School - Student - Parent

This coming week heralds the end of the high school year. Whew. I’m shattered.

How different this year has been from what I assumed it would be this time last year. The Principal of Teen1’s High School gave a memorable speech at last year’s Year 9 presentation assembly. I didn’t realise then, how much I’d come to reflect on, and have to action, some core elements of his message over 2010.

He talked about a three-way partnership being necessary in raising our boys to be men of the future. He directed some hard-hitting comments to the parents: his core message was “partnership within the community to support our sons’ academic achievement”. (An excerpt of his speech is at the end of the blog, so I can get my say in without losing my reader!)

Academic achievement is important to me, but so is growing healthy young men, and I am taking the liberty of transposing his comments into this wider goal. (We’ve all read Celia Lashlie, right?).

Partnership with the school and teachers is what has got me through to the end of this year without seeing my son expelled. I will limp through this last week, the clock ticking, hoping not to get a phone call telling me otherwise.

I wonder if schools too easily give up on kids and send them on their way. Some of my blog readers tell me of their children getting expelled from school. They are sent on to the neighbouring school: yours, or mine probably. It's a big swapping exercise.

If schools were more resourced to work cooperatively with parents, with professional back up, support, mentoring, and internal alternate programmes, maybe partnership would yield more results: the core aim being the retention and transition of our kids who are struggling so they complete to an appropriate level some kind of qualification. I speak here without doing any research (beyond reading almost every book on parenting I can find) on alternative education.

The problem in the partnership equation, is that for many parents to be icons of positive parenting - to say ‘no’ to our kids, to put boundaries in place that are meaningful, value-based, achievable, reinforceable and respected, or to take the hard stand to support them when they are a force to be reckoned with – all this requires reinforcing skills and resources for parenting, as well as a much deeper understanding of exactly how much we can and can’t control: when to ‘let it be’.

It requires an understanding of the social constructs; teenage physical, mental and emotional growth; behavioural and psychological norms. It requires time, sometimes money, and certainly education and support. It requires the silencing of ‘Society’s snarl’ which tells us all the time how we, The Parents, aren’t doing it well enough, why we should feel guilty, blameful, fearful, implying others are doing it perfectly… all these things that conspire to add to a sense that we are failing as parents if our kids fall out, or choose to do bad stuff. Media, politicians, social commentators, community workers often convey directly or indirectly that the Parents are getting it wrong. “Where were the parents when the kids were (fill in the blank)?” “The parents should have had more control.” The parents this… the parents that… (outraged indignation and condemnation).

It really, really grates me. Where was I when my son was out I don’t know where, until 2am? Baking bloody Tropical Escape Muffins (post of August 9) to keep my agitation at bay. Going quietly nuts wondering what I could do next. Building networks. Searching streets. Phoning people. Crashing into houses (gosh, what an eventful year). I wasn’t doing nothing.

If you are reading this blog, you have not failed as a parent. But, you might need some help getting through this, and to look for help (for you, for him, for her) is a good thing.

Just as workers in many schools and organisations are provided with training and development workshops, parents also need the same to be able to run the Family effectively.

Until they have those resources and opportunities for Parental and Personal Development and Up-skilling, far too may parents will be up at 2am wondering what the hell is going wrong. Others of them, like some Fockers, will have decided long ago, or will not know any differently because of their own experiences, that the effort just isn’t worth it – but maybe if many had new skills, offered through schools, they might not feel so disempowered. I believe that change is always possible and absolutely necessary. Others may not engage with the same level of intensity that I obviously am which is their choice. But the readers of this blog are telling me that they want help with the answers, and they are ready to be partners with the community in this. It takes a village... and so maybe the triumvirate partnership (parent, school, student) has to be strengthened in new ways.

I’m still learning Parenting. But, I’m content being me with my conflicted son, doing what I can even if it is only and simply to be here for him to come home to, with compassion and love in my heart. That’s on top of the list of parenting skills, surely. I’m currently building up an armory of key skills for parents who are going through difficulties (applicable for all parents) which I’ll share in forthcoming posts. There are some workshops in the pipeline too for those who may be interested… I’d love to meet and support others out there. Let me know if you are interested – it could be the start of something new.

Here’s an excerpt from the Principal’s Year 9 school speech, which I do think has some thought provoking comments:

“Academic achievement is a partnership. It is a partnership between teacher, student and parent. My fear is that too often the responsibility for academic achievement is placed solely at the feet and on the shoulders of the teachers and the school. The truth is there are three chief parties. Teacher. Student. Parent. And they must all combine their energies for student academic achievement to be fully realised. Any one in isolation will be unsuccessful. Any two combining together has potential but does not guarantee success. All three working together, pulling in the same direction will generate academic achievement.

I am going to be really frank with you. One of my greatest disappointments this year, and one of my greatest frustrations, has been the unwillingness of some parents, probably a few of whom are here tonight, to stand up and make the hard decisions in the interests of their son’s education. The two most important jobs in the world, from my biased perspective, are teaching and parenting. We have responsibility for one, but we have no control over the other….

To raise student academic achievement, as professionals, we must expect more from our students and ourselves. We have and we will continue to raise the bar but the bottom line is that that alone won’t be enough.

As parents we must expect more from ourselves and from our sons.

We must make a stand for them even when sometimes it feels like we are standing against them.

We must be willing to say no even though noone else seems to be.

We must be willing to put in place boundaries even when noone else seems to do it.

We must be willing to support the school even though the path of least resistance for us is to support our children.

Only together can we really raise student academic achievement… to the levels our young men are capable of attaining. That is a challenge for all of us to accept and embrace…”

My wish is that society does embrace that challenge and understands what the challenge actually involves committing to, so that we have a much healthier and wealthier society. Society is each individual doing their best, as we parents are doing right now. As I am doing, waiting again tonight for my son to come home, so late, far too late yet again. Sleep easy…

Break Through: to the other side of a little faith

Be thankful for little things. In the last months I have posted about a Breakdown (September 5), a Break In (September 18) and here’s a crack at a “Break Through”.

I have been contacted by Victim Support and the Police to advise that two men appeared in court on charges relating to the burglary of my house, and of three others in the neighbourhood. The men are 19 and 26 years old, recidivist criminals apparently, and both pleaded not guilty. One has been released with electronic monitoring, the other is still in custody. No stolen goods have been found, but a third man has given evidence against the two with an account of the crime that seems to be fairly accurate. Hence this break through in the investigation answers some questions and allays some concerns I did have about the burglary: Teen1 had threatened the day before the burglary to steal all my things if I didn’t give him any money - so had he actually done this or instigated it?, I wondered.

Oh. Me of little faith.

Teen1’s immediate response was predicable and justified: ‘see, Mum, I told you none of my mates did it”. There was another point being made to him of course, about who he’s hanging out with, and their record of crime with the police, but I opted to shut up.

The converse to being stuck in a perpetual emotional pattern of Fear, is to have Faith. If one is stuck in Fear – fear from within one’s self, or fear of not being perfect – then a way to exercise control over or to relinquish the control of Fear, is to have Faith. Life isn’t always going to be perfect and neither are we all perfect. Have Faith that all will be well. Or even more realistic, have faith in someone else to find their own way.

I always had (blind, instinctive) faith that my sons would grow into good men. Somehow, somewhere along this year’s long and lonesome road, I lost it. I lost a grip on it, for example, when I wondered if T1’s friends had been involved in the burglary. But, lately, I’ve dug around in the murky depths, and find Faith still flickers within me.

Yes!, me of little Faith!

A little is a lot at times of worry, stress and fear. I’ll let that succour me for a while.

Have Faith parents, a little goes a long way!

Let It Be

Being in the moment, being present, stepping back - these are great principles for life. Particularly for yogis and religious devotees and non offspring-challenged adults.

I’ve shared recently about having Faith that all will be well; knowing that from these huge changes and upheavals in the family home, good will come; and working on stepping back to let your brat adored teenager have their space to find their own way… which I still advocate, but, as parents, the reality is that we do still have to Do Something About Stuff. I say this because I find myself back in action / reaction mode again, and having to work so hard to listen to my own inner wisdom.

My newly elevated exhaustion levels have come from proactively preempting an exclusion from school (ie: being expelled, for under 16 year olds) by checking out other options. So, last Friday after school, in the first of several organised interviews, the Teen and I trucked off to the high school a bit further down the road to meet the principal.

I don’t quite know what I wanted from the meeting, but I knew this: I was exhausted from stress and concern; I could not extol the virtues of my son when it would be abundantly clear with the first phone call this principal made back to the current school as to what the situation was; I thought it would be good for Teen1 to have to tell another school why he wanted to be at that one rather than his current one; and I was carrying disappointment that unlike past meetings at schools, full of positivity and hope and promise for the child and the school, this one had arisen out of negative experiences.

The principal had the situation pegged within minutes. He explained the expectations of the school and the school values. He proffered the view that his school’s way of operating would not be any different from T1’s current school (and put in a plug that his school valued academic achievement rather more highly than others…). In short, there was no wriggle room for T1. So T1 didn’t wriggle, he sat in glum silence unable to express why he wanted to go to the new school, what he’d do to exemplify a change in attitude, behaviour or application, or what he really wanted to do or achieve. All these are life purpose questions difficult for most people to answer on the spot, but the point was, that unless he had good reason to change school, this school had no compunction to take him (nor desire, as was the unspoken comment).

T1 expressed a lot of views after the meeting, to which I listened in silence. He’d been asking to go to that school for months, but interestingly, in one short meeting, it could be said that he and the principal agreed on something: neither wanted the other.

Alternative Education for under 16 year olds, non-offenders, who are bright and capable is elusive (non-existent?) as an independent opt-out from the compulsory sector, unless you are at a private school which provides a term in the bush (like one school in Hamilton does). If a reader knows of one, please write in, as I am sure many readers would be interested. I am back to looking again. There’s a military style academy for over 16 year olds which has a low level teaching curriculum aiming for a National Certificate in Employment Skills, a lot of outdoor activities, self esteem and confidence building modules, discipline and boy stuff in general. But we can’t get in there for age reasons. The Ministry of Education Alternative Education Officer is unable to offer anything suitable for my Teen (he needs to get into a bit more trouble yet, and what is offered at Kokiri or night classes would not suit him anyway). In previous posts I’ve mentioned several of the other options around the country (and overseas) that I have looked into.

There’s not quite a year left before my son could legally leave school. Not long to perpetrate a change or find a new path - or exhaust myself presenting ways to persuade my Teen to do either of the two. Today, I left the house in tears. I wasn’t able to be content with giving him space to find his own way, or with acknowledging his right to choose his own path. I was hurt by his words and actions (or non-actions if lying in bed refusing to go to school is an action), and all the disappointments I felt as a parent who was trying to Do their best. I got caught up in the Doing for him again, quickly realising that there’s no gain in crying tears of frustration or desperation or sadness, because he will be what he is destined to be…

… A frustrated schoolboy who one day becomes….. fabulously, wonderfully, brilliantly…. himself? It has happened before with countless others.

So I guess, I need to keep practising stepping back, whispering occasional, well placed words of wisdom (to myself), and letting things be.

I wonder if other parents dealing with teenagers in harm’s way, can “let it be”?

Step back. Step back.

I’ve drafted a few blog posts since my last one over a month ago. I haven’t posted any of them. Some I will in time, as they certainly are relevant to this activity called ‘parenting teenagers’. Some of the draft posts are focused on moving forward, on what I’ve learned over the last six months, on steps I might have taken mindfully rather than reactively, as I felt deluged by events. I’ve also not posted, as I’ve been thoroughly sick of myself. I decided I needed to turn my blog around. It started as a “oh my goddess, what is happening? Is this happening to anyone else?”

Then it turned into: ‘what can I do about this?’.

But in the last few posts it felt like a big moan. And noone likes a moaner, yeah?

So I stepped back and waited and watched the Teen. I got some sleep, ate more nuts and salads, got a tonic from a fabulous herbalist/naturopath, did some yoga and running, sought wise counsel, read and reread a few books, internet surfed and listened to some intelligent and funny speakers on many subjects, not just about parenting teenagers. I tried to sort out my blog software and got nowhere. I concentrated more on my professional careers (I have two, one a personal business and the other a corporate job). I cooked and baked (but not at 2am).

I set out what I might need to do to manage my home life, and I thought at lot about how I am as a parent and person. Lots of ugly nasty stuff came up. The good stuff is far easier to deal with and so nice to have.

I also spent a lot of time thinking about what insights I could now bring to the world of parenting and I came up with – none. I can only relate what I am going through, in the hope that what happens for me, what I learn and discover, might help someone else going through similar. More posts on that soon.

Certainly, with all the changes in my life in the last couple of years, I stick by one of the core principles for managing change:

“From any change, something good will come.”

That’s one principle that used to annoy me when I was going through change, but it is really true. I know it, because I’ve been through so many changes, and good has come.

What has changed this year, is that the first of my teenagers is telling me to fuck off. Ah, he’s a lovely boy, but getting that in my face most days either in word or action is a real kill joy experience. The good that kept coming was that when I walked away from him, I found myself over and over again. I am not him. I am not his situation. I am not That. I am Me. It was good to find the Me in the present moment, even if it was only fleeting at times.

In the last month, there was an initial quiet period, but that was simply a time for him to shape his hormones into various toys, and get ready to chuck the lot out of his proverbial cot.

Basically, he’s reverted to being a more experienced manager of his mid-winter leap into the blind world of a testosterone fuelled young male. He’s more manipulative, arrogant and dismissive than earlier in the year. He’s ok about coming home stoned or drunk and if not admitting to it, then not denying it. He’s ok about saying ‘yeah’ to the time I tell him to be home then completely ignoring it. He’s pretty good at playing me for money, then getting equally nasty when the answer is ‘no’. School is a distant activity of no particular relevance. Exams? Well, he just walks out of them after tagging his exam papers (‘what else was I supposed to do, I was bored?’). Attendance? Doesn’t want to be there. Has no idea where he wants to be, just not at school.

Etc. Etc.

The difference is that I’ve changed. I might not go to sleep until he gets in at night, but I’m not baking at 2am, or calling all his friends.

I’m stepping back. When Teen1 steps backwards, I step in to check it out, I throw an occasional hissy fit (forgetting my mantra ‘I am not That’), but then I remember to step back.

I step back.

I cannot change the direction of the path he is on. I just hope that by my making my own, tiny internal changes, something good will come.

I am sure that good will come for all parents reading this blog.

Silence is Golden

Is it so with very many people that they only write a journal or diary when they are lonely, sad, suffering....or totally mad at their teenagers?

I remember those fraught times in my life when I wrote in my journals like a woman possessed with finding answers. Times when I would lie in bed on winter weekends with my pen in hand scripting paragraphs wondering if my current love loved me. Homesick for the first time when I travelled to take up a summer placement job in a city where I knew noone and was living at my dear, but ancient, aunt's place, I recall I scribbled myself to sleep at night. And so many other times too. Young and miserable with unrequited love for a much older Frenchman who later turned out to be gay. Struggling with making a decision between staying in a career that had prestige and power but where I had no attachment to the organisation at all, or leaving to pursue other options so that I could meet other parts of me I didn't yet know existed. Emotionally wrecked when I discovered my husband had several other women whose shadows began to cross over the threshold of my home and marriage. Scared when a friend was diagnosed with cancer and my role was to stand solid, unafraid and focused beside her. Bereft when someone I loved deeply died. Reflective when I was in therapy once, twice and a third time again. Lonely and unsure when I uprooted my children and left my home to start a new life as a single mum. Terrified when my son first came home noticeably messed up in his head and in his soul.

All these times taking up a pen, or a key board, brought out the pain and helped me to see myself more clearly with each sentence. Then cringe in the rereading of it all.

I would far rather write an abundance journal. I tried at times, but whenever I've been so fabulously content, there's other tapestries to weave that don't involve me weaving sentences together.

So, when things were going smoothly in my life, I was more silent and still inside.

Lately, I've been working on being more silent and still in my parenting life, inside and out. In the midst of my fear for Teen1, or indeed for all three of my boys, I've been working on my sense of Faith. Faith that all will be well. I rest at night with that thought, letting the computer blink accusingly at me ('write, write, write', it blinks) without succumbing to tapping out thoughts, until I turn out the light at 11pm or 2am after Teen1 gets in the door. Then I go to sleep.

Wondering if worried parents could find an inner sense of Faith as an antidote for their fears for their children, what changes might occur.