How to Talk So Teens Will Listen & Listen So Teens Will Talk

by Adele Faber

  The response was immediate: “That would be wonderful!” … “Great idea!” … “I don’t know if I can get her to go, but I’ll give it my best shot” … “Just tell me when. He’ll be there.”

  We set three dates.

  As I watched the kids pile into the room, I immediately started matching children to parents, trying to figure out who belonged to whom. Was the tall, skinny boy Tony’s son Paul? He sort of looked like Tony. Was the girl with the friendly smile Laura’s daughter Kelly? But then I thought, No, don’t go there. Get to know these young people as individuals, not as extensions of their mothers or fathers.

  When everyone had settled down, I said, “As your parents have probably told you, I teach methods of communication that can help people of all ages to get along better. But as you well know, ‘getting along better’ isn’t always easy. It means we need to be able to hear each other and, at the very least, make an effort to understand the other person’s point of view.

  “Now, parents certainly understand their own point of view. But I think what many of them are missing—and that includes me—is a deeper understanding of the younger generation’s point of view. That’s where all of you come in. I’m hoping today to get a better sense of whatever it is that you believe to be true—either for yourself or for your friends.”

  The boy who looked like Tony grinned. “So what do you want to know? Just ask me. I’m an expert.”

  “Yeah, sure,” another boy snickered. “On what?”

  “We’ll soon find out,” I said as I handed out the page of questions I had prepared. “Please look these over, see what you’re comfortable answering, and then we’ll talk.”

  A hand shot up.

  “Yes?”

  “Who gets to see what we write?”

  “Only me. You don’t have to put your name on the paper. No one will know who wrote what. All I care about is your honest feedback.”

  I wasn’t sure they’d want to write after a long school day, but they did. They studied each question, stared out the window, bent over their papers, and wrote quickly and earnestly. When everyone was finished, we went down the list of questions together and discussed each one. Most of the kids read their answers aloud; others added their thoughts spontaneously; and a few listened quietly, preferring to hand in their responses in writing. Here are the highlights of what they had to say:

  What do you think people mean when they make a comment like, “Oh well, he’s a teenager”?

  “That we’re immature, that we’re all brats and a pain in the neck. But I don’t agree. Anyone can act like that, no matter what age they are.”

  “That all teens are trouble. But that’s wrong. It’s a put-down. There isn’t just one kind of teenager. We’re all different.”

  “They always say, ‘You should know better,’ or, ‘Act your age’ But this is our age.”

  “It’s demeaning and insulting when adults think so little of our capabilities.”

  “They think they know us. They say, ‘We had the same problems when we were young.’ But they don’t realize that times have changed and problems have changed.”

  What do you think is the best part of being your age—for either you or your friends?

  “Having more privileges. Fewer limits and boundaries.”

  “Having fun and doing what I like to do.”

  “Having boyfriends.”

  “Staying out later on weekends and going to the mall with my friends.”

  “Enjoying life without the responsibilities I know I’ll have later on.”

  “Getting closer to being able to drive.”

  “There’s the freedom to experiment, but also the security and love of your family to come back to when something goes wrong.”

  What are some of the things kids your age worry about?

  “Not fitting in.”

  “Not being accepted socially.”

  “Losing friends.”

  “Kids worry about what others think about them.”

  “We worry about the way we look—clothes, hair, shoes, brand names.”

  “Girls have to be skinny and pretty, and guys have to be cool and athletic.”

  “We worry about academic competition and having to do a ton of homework every night and passing all our subjects.”

  “Our future and getting good grades.”

  “I worry about drugs and violence and terrorists attacking us and stuff like that.”

  “I worry that there’s going to be a school shooting and a lot of people are going to be killed. It’s so easy to get a gun.”

  “Teenagers have a lot of stress. Maybe more stress than their parents. They can say whatever they want to say to us, but no way can we say what we want to say to them.”

  Is there anything your parents say or do that is helpful to you?

  “My parents discuss things with me, and we try to come up with solutions.”

  “My mom knows when I’m in a bad mood and leaves me alone.”

  “My mom always tells me I look good—even if I don’t.”

  “My dad helps me if I don’t understand my homework.”

  “Once my dad told me about trouble he got into when he was a kid. That made me feel better when I got into trouble.”

  “My mother talks to me about things to say if people want me to try drugs.”

  “My parents always tell me, ‘Have an aim or goal in life. As long as you have one, it will keep you on track.’”

  Is there anything your parents do or say that’s unhelpful?

  “They blame things on me that aren’t true. Also, when I tell them about something that makes me mad, they say, ‘Take a rest,’ or, ‘Forget about it.’ That really pisses me off.”

  “I hate when they tell me I have a bad attitude. Because no child comes into the world with a bad attitude. That’s not how you are inside. Sometimes it’s the parents’ fault. They can be a bad example.”

  “My parents criticize my study habits, which is unfair because I do okay in school.”

  “I hate it when my parents yell at me.”

  “My parents work too hard. There is never enough time to talk to them. I mean, about everyday stuff.”

  “Parents shouldn’t always criticize and correct their kids. My brother was raised up that way. And now he has trouble with authority. He quit all his jobs because he can’t handle authority. I’m like that too. I can’t hear correction. I hate correction.”

  If you could give advice to parents, what would it be?

  “Don’t say, ‘You can tell me anything,’ and then freak out and lecture us when we do.”

  “Don’t say things like, ‘Are you still on the phone?’ or ‘Are you eating again?’ when you can see that we are.”

  “Don’t tell us not to do something and then do it yourself, like drink or smoke cigarettes.”

  “If you come home in a bad mood, don’t bring your troubles down on us or blame us for your bad day.”

  “Parents shouldn’t act nice on the outside and then at home call you names and hit you and take your respect away. If kids are mean, it could be because that’s what they see at home. So even if parents get frustrated and want to say something mean, they should really try to hold that back.”

  “Parents should believe in us. Even if we do something wrong, it doesn’t mean we’re bad people.”

  “Don’t criticize our friends. You don’t really know them.”

  “Don’t make us feel guilty if we’d rather hang out with our friends than be with the family.”

  “If you want your kids to tell you the truth, then don’t ground them for every little thing.”

  “Even though your kids aren’t little anymore, tell them that you love them.”

  “If there is some way to let your children experience life without being in danger, find that plan and follow it, because that’s what we need.”

  If you could give advice to other teenagers, what would it be?

  “Don’t do dumb things, like d
rugs, just to get other kids to like you.”

  “Be friendly to everyone, even the kids who aren’t popular.”

  “Don’t join in when kids pick on someone.”

  “Don’t get other kids in trouble by e-mailing bad stuff about them.”

  “Develop true, good friendships. Then when life is hard and you have no one else, they’ll be there.”

  “If you want your parents to give you a later curfew, start coming home on time.”

  “If your boyfriend says he’ll dump you if you don’t have sex with him, then you should dump him.”

  “Don’t think you can just smoke a few cigarettes once in a while and that’s it. Because my friend started out that way, and now she’s up to a pack a day.”

  “If you drink or take drugs, just know that you could be messing up your health and your future. Some kids say, ‘I don’t care. It’s my body and I’ll do what I want with it.’ But they’re wrong. It’s not just them who will be hurt. All the people who care about them will be let down and disappointed.”

  What do you wish could be different about your life—at home, in school, or with friends?

  “I wish my parents would realize I’m not a baby anymore and let me do more things, like go to the city with my friends.”

  “I wish my teachers would ease up on the homework. They all act like theirs is the only subject we take. We have to stay up so late at night to finish everything. No wonder we’re tired in class.”

  “I wish my schedule wasn’t so packed with studying and music lessons and that I had more free time to hang out with my friends.”

  “I wish kids wouldn’t act nice to your face and then talk about you behind your back.”

  “I wish my friends would all get along and not try to make me take sides.”

  “I wish people didn’t judge you by how you look or what you wear. That’s why I like to go online. Because then, even if you look weird or ugly, it doesn’t matter.”

  “I wish kids didn’t fight over stupid things like, ‘I saw you with my guy.’ Fights don’t solve anything. All that happens is you end up getting suspended, and then your parents punish you too.”

  “I wish parents wouldn’t pressure their kids to be perfect. I mean, we only live this life once, so why can’t we just sit back a little and enjoy being a teenager? Why do we have to excel all the time? Yes, we have goals and dreams, but can’t we reach them without all this stress?”

  When the last question had been answered, everyone looked at me expectantly. I said, “Know what I wish? I wish parents and teenagers everywhere could have heard what you had to say this afternoon. I think they would have gained some important insights that could be very helpful to them.”

  The kids seemed pleased by my comment. “Before we leave,” I asked, “is there anything we haven’t talked about that you think parents should be aware of?”

  A hand went halfway up, then down, then up again. It was the boy who looked like Tony. “Yeah, you tell them that sometimes we yell and say things that get them all upset. But they shouldn’t take it personally. A lot of times we don’t even mean it.”

  “That’s right,” said the girl whose smile was so much like Laura’s. “And tell them not to get crazy when we don’t clean our room or do stuff to help out. It’s not because we’re brats. Sometimes we’re too tired or we have things on our mind or we need to talk to our friends.”

  Another girl chimed in. “And ask the parents how they’d like it if the second they got home from work we’d say to them, ‘You left your dirty dishes in the sink again!’ or, ‘I want you to start making dinner right now!’ or, ‘No TV until you’ve finished paying all your bills!’ “

  Everyone laughed.

  “Actually,” she added, “my mother isn’t yelling as much since she’s been going to your class. I don’t know what she’s learning there, but she doesn’t go ballistic so much anymore.”

  “What your mother and all the other parents are learning,” I said, “are the same communication skills I look forward to sharing with you next week. We’ll be exploring ideas that can help people get along better in all of their relationships.”

  “All?” one of the girls asked. “Does that mean with our friends too?”

  “With your friends too,” I assured her. Yet there was something about the way she asked the question that gave me pause. I hadn’t planned to focus on friends in our next session, but suddenly it occurred to me that maybe I ought to. Maybe I should take my cue from the kids. Hearing their many comments today about the importance of their friendships jolted me into a fresh awareness of how much emotion teenagers invest in their interactions with their peers.

  “How would you all feel,” I asked the group, “about using our next session to see how these communication skills might apply to your relationships with your friends?”

  No one answered immediately. The kids looked at one another and then back at me. Finally, someone said, “That’s cool.” Heads nodded in agreement.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” I said. “See you next week.”

  Six

  About Feelings, Friends, and Family

  “Move your ass, retard!”

  “Shut your face, trailer trash!”

  The words hit me as I made my way past groups of teenagers milling around their lockers at the end of the school day. The guidance counselor ran down the hall toward me. “I’m so glad I caught you!” she exclaimed. “You’re meeting in 307 today. Don’t worry, I contacted all the kids and told them about the change.”

  I thanked her and hurried up the stairs, trying to avoid the stampede of pushing, shoving kids who were racing down.

  “Ouch, watch where you’re going, dirtbag.”

  “Watch yourself, loser.”

  “Hey, butthead, wait for me!”

  What was going on? Was this the way teenagers talked to one another today?

  By the time I got to room 307, most of the kids were already there waiting outside the door. I waved them in and, as they were settling down, described what I had just heard. “Tell me,” I inquired, “is this kind of talk typical?”

  They laughed at my naïveté.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked.

  “Nah, it’s just joking around. Everybody does it.”

  “Not everybody.”

  “But a lot of kids do.”

  That stymied me. “As you know,” I said, “my work is about relationships. About how the words we use to communicate affect the way we feel about each other. So I need to ask you, seriously, are you telling me you really don’t mind getting up and going to school each day knowing that there’s a good chance that before the day is over, someone will call you a ‘loser’ or a ‘dirtbag’ or something worse?”

  One of the boys shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  “Me either,” someone added.

  I couldn’t let it go. “So no one here objects to this kind of talk?”

  There was a short pause.

  “I do sometimes,” a girl admitted. “And I know I shouldn’t because my friends and I, we always call each other names, and it’s like we’re just kidding around. You know, having fun. But if you fail a test and someone calls you a ‘retard’—that happened to me once—or like the time I got a bad haircut and my friend said I looked like a weirdo, then it wasn’t so funny. I made believe it didn’t bother me. But that was on the outside.”

  “What do you think would happen,” I asked her, “if you didn’t make believe, if instead you told your friends how you felt on the inside?”

  She shook her head. “That wouldn’t be good.”

  “Because? … “

  “Because they’d put you down or make fun of you.”

  “Yeah,” another girl agreed. “They’d think that you were too sensitive and that you were trying to be different or better, and then they wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore.”

  Many hands flew up. People had a lot to say:

  “Bu
t those aren’t real friends. I mean, if you have to be phony and pretend you don’t care, just to fit in, that sucks.”

  “Yeah, but a lot of kids will do anything to be accepted.”

  “That’s right. I know someone who started drinking and doing other stuff only because his friends did.”

  “But that’s so dumb, because you should be able to do what you think is right and let your friends do whatever they want to do. I say, ‘Live and let live!’ “

  “Yeah, but that’s not the way it works in real life. Your friends have a lot of influence over you. And if you don’t go along, you could be cut out.”

  “So what? Who wants friends like that? I think a real friend is someone you can be yourself with, someone who doesn’t try to change you.”

  “Someone who listens to you and cares about how you feel.”

  “Yeah, someone you can talk to if you have a problem.”

  I was touched by what the kids were saying. Their friends were so important to them that some of them were willing to give up a part of themselves in order to be part of the group. And yet they all knew, on some level, what gave meaning to a mutually satisfying friendship.

  “We must be on the same wavelength,” I said. “Ever since our last meeting, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how the skills I teach to adults might work in teenage relationships. You made it very clear just now that the quality you most value in a friend is the ability to hear, accept, and respect what you have to say. Now, how can that idea be put into practice?”

  I reached into my briefcase and pulled out the material I had prepared. “You’ll see several examples here of one friend trying to get through to another. You’ll also see the contrast between the kind of response that can undermine a relationship and the kind that gives comfort and support.

  “Let’s go over these pages together,” I said as I distributed them to the group. “Would any of you be willing to act out the different parts?”

  There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. They all wanted to “act it out.” Amid bursts of laughter, they read their parts with energy and dramatic flare. As I sat there, looking at the illustrations and listening to the voices of real kids, I felt as if I were watching an animated cartoon.