The Desert

The theme of wandering the literal and figurative desert has been around since the beginning of literature. Odysseus wandered for 10 years after the end of the Trojan War. Jesus spent between 12 and 30 wandering (many scholars say part of that time was spent in India). Siddhartha wandered in the forest for 6 years, learning meditation and discovering the power of asceticism.

It’s not much of a stretch to view teenagers as experiencing their own wandering period. After all, they are no longer children, not yet adults. As someone who has lived abroad over the past five years, I can relate to the unsettled sense of being someone “without a country” (or, more positively framed, “a citizen of the world”).

It’s both a disconcerting and hope-filled feeling. Like adolescence, if done right.  

Too often, we view adolescents as either overgrown children or little adults. We forget that the period of adolescence is well-defined in its own right; thus it should be treated as such. Relational schools recognize that the teenagers in their communities are seeking, exploring, and searching. They understand that they need time and space to wander. 

The TEACH-R model comes into play when discerning how to best work with adolescents. They need trust given (when earned) in order to feel empowered. They require space to explore and wander both literally (through traveling outside the walls of home and school) and figuratively (through introspection). They require permission to learn who they truly are – to build a sense of appreciation for their authentic selves. They seek connection, even when it appears that they don’t. They demand hope from the adults in their lives…this hope must be sincere, or they will reject it outright. And they must have time for reflection in order to best grapple with the situations around them. 

Teenagers are wandering throughout their inner and outer landscapes. And they are alone in doing so. This isolation can pose anxiety in the adults around them. Teachers, parents, and other adults might see their need for self-imposed exile as a threat. “Why doesn’t my son talk to me anymore?” is a commonly-heard lament from parents of middle and high school students. This is a normal feeling, as it is rooted in a sense of detachment. Like with all losses, it requires acceptance, as if grieving something gone forever. 

Yet if the adolescent is given room to roam, reflect, and revel in the adult they are becoming, they will emerge solidly intact. This is why schools and families must align. They need to communicate with each other about the adolescent in their care. They need to connect and understand the value each environment brings toward shaping the young adult. They must support each other, team with each other, and trust each other that they are doing the best that they can. 

Without this trust, the teenager lacks a strongly supportive band of adults. They lose the security that comes with being vigilantly observed from a distance, and they step down their pathways feeling untethered instead of cared for. 

Let’s allow them to wander through their deserts independently yet not in isolation.