Original URL: http://life.familyeducation.com/teen/communication/42922.html

Communicating with Teens in Writing

Notes (and E-mail)
In even the most harmonious of families there are those inevitable times when the lines of communication break down between you and your teenager. It is part and parcel of raising a teenager. When this happens, more than ever, we need to rise to the task at hand and stay the adult. That is, if we're not careful during these moments, we will behave like our teenager's equal by engaging him in debate and tit-for-tat dialogues:

—Your room is a disaster! How can you find anything in here?

—It's not a problem for me, I know where everything is.

—Well, I want you to pick up this mess before you go to bed tonight.

—Why?

—Why?!

—Yeah, why? If it's not a problem for me why should it bother you?

—Because I'm your mother! And you need to learn to clean up after yourself. That's why.

—I know how to clean up after myself. I just like my room this way. I mean, there's no fungi growing or insects crawling around. Yeah, it's messy, but it's not dirty, so why should it bother you?

—Young man, this is no way to talk to your mother! . . .

Catch your breath. I'm not saying that teenagers shouldn't have to keep their rooms neat; well, not entirely. I am saying, however, that engaging them as equals (especially when we are the ones who have regressed back to our adolescent years) is not very effective.

Think back for a moment to when your oldest child was around two years old. This was the first time, during some moment of frustration with your child, that you could hear your parents' words coming out of your mouth. Words and phrases that you swore you would never use with your kids. Young man, I'm your mother and you need to do what I say without question. Young lady, when I say come down for dinner, I mean right now, not in five minutes. It's quite a shock the first time that happens, and for some parents it even precipitates an identity crisis that lands them in therapy. For most parents, though, it's simply a wake-up call that demands more monitoring of the feelings and thoughts that course through our brains and the words that come out of our mouths. And for an intrepid few, it's a sign for a long overdue acknowledgement of the job their own parents did with them.

Years later, however, when you have a teenager in your home, you once again experience your parents' words and phrases coming out of your mouth, only this time it's different and your attitude has changed. Instead of feeling horror at this recognition, you find yourself agreeing with what your parents said to you years ago. But retroactively shifting allegiances to how your parents were during your own adolescence is reacting to your teenager's behavior as if you were still a teenager, not as your child's mother or father.

Still, though, even the most conscious parents will have many of these cross-generational interchanges with their teenagers. They are part of the landscape. Fortunately, so is the written word. And notes and short letters from parents to teenagers are the natural redeemers of these train-wreck conversations—when we've said something we can't take back and we sort of meant at the time, but with a little perspective realize that we deeply regret our overreaction. Notes help to reestablish order and tranquility in the parent-teenager relationship. More than anything, they invite connection:

Dear Ray,
These last few weeks have been rough between us. I've said some things I regret, and I hope you feel similarly about some of what you've said. I feel bad about this, but I'm not sure what else to do. I'm human and sometimes I just react instead of thinking things through more thoroughly. It's a difficult time, one that I hope in a couple of months we can look back on in astonishment. But for now, this is what we have to deal with.

But the reason I'm writing you this note is not to state the obvious; quite the opposite, to state what isn't so obvious. Despite what you might think and despite how you might interpret our recent interactions, I want to be crystal clear about one point: I love you. I never want you to lose sight of that fact. Sure, you're stubborn and self-righteous these days (a lot like me), but no matter what, I love you and am proud of the young man you are becoming. And I don't want you ever to doubt that one important point. It's just that right now, and I'm being frank, I'm having trouble liking you, but that has nothing to do with how much I love you and always will. I have no doubt that we'll get through this, but just don't forget how much I love you.

Love,
Dad

The father that relayed this story to me also mentioned how terrific he felt after writing the note late one evening and slipping it under his son's door early the next morning. He felt that he had communicated something important to his son. He felt that he was a good dad. He was sure it would have the intended impact on Ray, so he was caught off guard by his son's response later that morning at the breakfast table: Nothing. Ray didn't mention the note. Instead, he just slurped his cereal, grunted a "good morning," and read the newspaper. And he didn't mention the note later that day, either—on the car ride home from play practice, at dinner, or before going to bed.

For the next week, Ray said nothing, and his father didn't know how to bring it up. Then one morning, out of the blue, Ray's father heard the whoosh of a postcard sliding under his door. The handwriting was Ray's, but the post card had only two words written on it: Me, too.

Needless to say, breakfast that morning was like breakfast every other morning: Ray just slurped his cereal, grunted a "good morning," and read the newspaper. Neither of them spoke of the first note or the subsequent postcard, but the father did say there was more patience between the two of them and a whole lot more felt optimism about the future. Not all notes need be this poignant, nor should they be. More often they are about some mundane observation that for one reason or another you were unable to voice when you noticed it. The note is something little that tells them you are paying attention, believe in them, and are there for them should the need ever arise.

Hey, Sam,
Walking by your room last night I heard you laughing on the phone with some friend or another. I just love the sound of your laugh.

Hope you slept well. Have a good day at school and see you at dinner tonight.

Love,
Mom

And,

Susie,
While I was drinking my coffee this afternoon, I was watching you and Oscar [twelve-year-old Labrador retriever] play together in the backyard. It brought back memories of when we first brought him home, when you were just three. You were so responsible for him back then, and you still are. It was just great watching you two play together—brought back great memories.

Thanks.
Thinking of you.

Love,
Dad

The advantages of writing notes to your teenagers are twofold. One, writing notes involves you more in your teenager's life. You are actively making observations and taking time to communicate them in a way that your teenager can take in. You are doing something concrete to strengthen your connection with your teenager. Two, you are respecting your teenager's world. You know he is self-conscious and defensive, so you write a note because it slips by the self-consciousness and the defensiveness. You also give him the best opportunity to take in fully what you have written—he reads it in privacy somewhere, in his room or car. And best of all, it's something that he can keep and refer to in the future, perhaps even when he is down on himself or his relationship with you.

To a lesser extent, the same is true for e-mails. Often the short e-mail from work while your daughter is at school or sitting down to do her homework serves the same purpose. At a time in her life when she is overly defended and often inaccessible, you are exercising your creativity to reach around her defenses and let her know that you both see her in her best light and still believe in her. This is the kind of understanding support teenagers need from their parents. Notes and e-mails are not intrusive and don't even require responses. From your teenager's perspective, can you imagine a more wonderful way to stay connected? Notes and Teddy Bears
Remember the teddy bears, dolls, and blankets that were so special to your kids when they were toddlers? Many a family trip was delayed if your daughter couldn't find her favorite doll or your son couldn't find his special blanket. Then, when they reached school age, many of you made sure that this distinguished object of affection accompanied your child to her first day(s) of kindergarten. The teachers at the school understood and expected this onslaught of cuddly animals and blankets, and silently nodded in affirmation as you began to explain why Todd was clutching his ratty old blanket. No words were necessary.

Psychologists have named these wonderful exhibitions of love and trust transition objects—a terrible name if ever there was one. These manifestations of security were essential to your child's well-being way back then, and at certain times will resurface as important once again. When going into a new situation with relative strangers, your fifteen-year-old will regress and take comfort in her proven transition objects. That is, as she embarks on an overnight at a friend's house or a week at camp, she might grab that old teddy bear and toss him in with her other luggage.

My thirteen-year-old was preparing to go to her first boy-girl party at her best friend's house, where she and a couple of the other girls were going to sleep over after the party. On the way out, we had an argument about how she was dressed—in my opinion her shirt was too short and her spaghetti straps too thin. She disagreed, strongly. After lots of give and take, we finally compromised on a different top, not my first choice by a long shot, but not hers, either. When her ride arrived, she was quick to run out the back door, shouting "Bye" over her shoulder. My husband and I just looked at each other. Our little daughter was growing up. We sat together quietly. As he was about to say something, our daughter sprinted back through door, up the stairs, and into her room. A moment later, she emerged with her favorite childhood stuffed animal, Sally. As she flew past us for the second time she said, "Can't forget old Sally. See you in the morning. Goodnight." My husband and I looked at each other in disbelief at the incongruity of my thirty-minute argument with her over her provocative clothes and her teddy bear. Then we shook our heads as it dawned on us that for her, there was no incongruity.

Every parent will hold in their mind's eye snapshots of their teenagers simultaneously reaching forward into adulthood and backwards into childhood. Practically speaking, your teenager's need for these childhood objects of security pop up at the most unexpected times. But for the most part, teenagers are upgrading their transition objects. And believe it or not, some of these updated transition objects are your notes.

I still remember packing for the beginning of my freshman year at college. I had everything and was doing a quick run through, just to be safe, when I saw the manila envelope filled with the notes that my mom and dad had written me through high school. We had never talked about them, but I had saved every one of them—I had even re-read most of them a bunch of times. Anyway, for some reason I just popped the envelope into one of my bags.

Later on, after I got to college and settled into my dorm room, I stayed up late re-reading all the notes they had written. They just made me feel good about myself, and they helped me to remember who I was. I'm naturally shy, so meeting new people at college was pretty scary for me and I was worried about losing myself as I got to know these strangers. But the notes from my mom and dad helped.

For those first few weeks of college, I must have re-read those notes four or five times. Each time they seemed to go into my soul a little more deeply. . . . I'm a junior now and I haven't looked at them since my freshman year, but I'm never going to throw them out.

We all need our little transition objects when we enter a new environment: family photographs, mementos from the past, favorite art pieces. Your teenager is no different. If you want to include yourself in your teenager's box of transition objects, then writing notes is one of the most direct routes.

In this same vein, when your teenager graduates high school (it will happen sooner than you think) and moves away to his first apartment or off to college, you need to exercise your creativity in forging this distant connection. One of the best suggestions I ever heard (and this is applicable to summer camp as well as all other extended stays away from home) is to pack in their luggage a disposable camera and self-addressed stamped envelope. Then, during the first days they are away, ask them take to pictures of their surroundings and who they are spending time with and send the camera back to you in the S.A.S.E. Once you develop the photos, make a collage and envision them in their surroundings, then when you talk and e-mail with them you are familiar with their new set of references. It's a great help.