I was recently offered a glimpse into the frightening future of parenting teens when my 17-year-old sister came to stay, to help me move house. After two days of not-so-subtle chore avoiding ("Packing is just not my thing, Big Sis.") we started talking life paths. My sister spilled her most recent plan - to join the British police force and become a detective, thereby negating the need for A levels and university.
Don't get me wrong, a career in the police force is admirable. I just struggled to understand where this idea had come from. It just sounded like a good excuse not to study. "Well, I like to work things out, they employ 32,000 new recruits a year, and the only requirement is that you are 18."
No disrespect to my sibling. She is after all a teenager and her reality is still partly manufactured by Disney. Imagine a land called Teenucopia, where an aeroplane smoke trail scribbles "the sky's the limit" across the blue yonder. Of course it's beneficial for teens to believe the fruits of life are within reach, but surely they should be prepared to climb the tree, rather than sit underneath it, listening to their iPod, waiting for the apple to drop into their lap. And how do you impart this attitude to someone who only trusts the advice of her fellow Teenucopians?
I called my mother to find out how they were dealing with the situation. It was obvious that a good cop, bad cop scenario was taking place, with Mother saying, "How exciting!" while Father snorts, "That's never going to happen." When a series of Facebook updates alerted me to high dramas unfolding back home, I decided it was time for an intervention from Big Sis.
In preparation, I called Clare Smart, a counsellor at LifeWorks Counselling and Development (www.lifeworksdubai.com). She says, "There is so much pressure on teenagers at this time, especially expat teenagers - not only are they leaving home, but they are leaving the country, too. They're under pressure to get the right grades, make the right choices. If you don't, you disappoint your family, your teachers, yourself... it's stressful."
I can't argue with that. Choosing a course felt like a life-defining decision of colossal proportions at 17. "It's overwhelming," says Smart. "And scary. Schools put the pressure on, too, telling them these exams, these grades, will dictate the rest of their lives. All this change and responsibility means a lot of stress for teenagers, which puts them at risk of developing anxiety, depression and even mental health issues." Must tread carefully. "Be supportive. Don't trivialise her fears. Talk it through. Acknowledge the pressure - if you had to pack a suitcase, leave everyone and everything and start afresh, you'd be anxious too." Very true. "Tell her it's OK to be concerned, and that there's always scope for changing courses later. And remember, ultimately it's her decision."
I wait for the next status update cry for help and call the teen. The conversation starts gently, but within a few minutes, emotions are unleashed. She feels too young to make such huge decisions. It's too much pressure. Other people seem to know what they want to do, but she doesn't at all. So joining the police force just seems like an easier option than having to choose a university course and risk getting it wrong.
Smart's advice rings loud in my ears. I channel my inner Oprah, listen, empathise, and finish by saying, "At least university will give you another three years to think about it." Silence. I think I've struck gold.
The very next day, positive messages start flooding in from the teen. She has completed the Stamford Test on the UCAS website (www.ucas.com), which helps you choose a university course. She has applied for work experience. She's even spending her free period swotting up on next semester's history course book. She's excited about the possibilities on offer to her. And, no, choosing a course isn't that stressful.
Is this the same person? The change from anti-establishment rebel to excited university fresher is unbelievable. Smart was right - when it comes to teens, a little bit of listening goes a very long way. As a parent of young children living in fear of the dreaded teenage years, this is a lesson well learnt, well in advance, thanks to my little Sis. And now both our futures look a little sweeter.
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