A letter to my 16-year-old self

Inspired by a post on one of my favourite websites (which was inspired by another post on another website), I have decided to write a letter to my sixteen-year-old self, aka: the me who existed almost a decade in the past.

Dearest Christie:

Sorry to break it to you, but you don't want to be a veterinarian, or a doctor. In case you've forgotten, you mostly hate math and science (even though you're reasonably good at them). You'll find something much better suited to your interpersonal skills and interests, and you'll love it.

Major congrats on getting your drivers license on the first try, even though you lost the maximum amount of points. Thankfully, you'll hardly ever have to parallel park in the next decade. You'll actually marry a guy who is an excellent parker. You will, however, be stuck with that photo ID for another five years, so don't wear such a stupid sweatshirt. You look like a twelve-year-old. And even though you won't own a stick shift until you're in your mid 20s, listen to your parents and learn to drive one now. You'll save me a lot of hassle later on.

Speaking of parents, don't bother trying to keep that guy you dated a secret. They find out anyway. Just tell them from the get-go (as awkward as it may be). You won't, by the way, date him for very long. Be proud that you had the guts to ask him out, and then move on. You'll be pretty happy to not date anyone for a long time. And don't, by the way, say anything about how you'll never date a hockey player. You'll not only date one, you'll marry one. And you'll grow to like hockey. Better to get over it now.

As for getting married, you will. In high school, you'll think that you're going to get married by the time you're about 22. Eventually, you'll find that idea terrifying, and you'll plan to start taking applications from qualified candidates sometime in your late 20s, after you've saved the world (or at least most of it). You'll get married right in the middle of all that, exactly when you don't expect to. You'll be young enough to be below the societal average (and thus weird to most people), and you'll be old enough to be above your university average (and thus weird to everyone else). Don't worry. You got married at exactly the right time.

As much as you love it, stop reading all that mindless fiction, and start reading all the classics you'll have to read for your (surprise!) English major. You'll feel way smarter, which will be helpful, considering you'll get real tired of how flipping keen everyone is. Also: Stop caring so much about your grades. Sure, they're important, but you won't be valedictorian, and it isn't worth being mad about. By the time you graduate from university, you'll just be thankful to be alive. Your grades will be plenty high enough to get you into all the classes/programs you want. It won't take you long to realize that knowing the right people and being able to make small talk will get you way further than a 4.0 GPA.

Grade 10 will feel like the ultimate worst year of your life, but I promise: it gets better. You'll have tons of great friends, feel totally comfortable with who you are, and have no problem talking about the things you believe... once you get to university. Also? You buy your clothes too big. Your fear of having clothes that are too tight and uncomfortable is stupid. Buy things that fit. And you're doing the right thing by not getting hammered like everybody else. You'll drink alcohol eventually, and you'll do it in a totally healthy, non-intoxicated way.

Don't be angry at your Mom for being who she is, or your Dad for being sick. You'll live with a lot of regret in your adult life for all the time you didn't spend hanging out with your Dad, so hang out with him now. Watch The Thin Red Line, and all those other war movies you don't think you like. You'll be happy you did it, and you won't have to cry about not doing it later on. You'll also learn that it is okay to cry, but its also okay not to talk about things if you don't want to. That's not bottling, that's continuing on with regular life in the midst of challenges.

Being sixteen feels like the worst, but it won't last long. When you said you couldn't wait to be twenty-five, you had good instincts, because it is awesome. Painful, but awesome.

--- chRistie

Read difficult books.

If you have read my previous post, or talked to me at my part-time job in the last year, you will know that I have been on somewhat of a quest to find thoughtful teen books: books that focus on more than just romantic relationships between teenagers, and force the reader to consider complicated, real-life, ethical issues. This, of course, is in largely light of the societal obsession with Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series and the proliferation of the supernatural romance genre. I carefully respond to Twilight fans by saying "I already have one immensely-popular young adult book obsession (Harry Potter), and that is enough for me". I do my best to avoid confrontation when I can.

All that being said, it is fairly obvious that more teens are reading, or at least that reading has become more acceptable in the teenage world. I remember distinctly being one of a handful of students in my graduating class who actually read books for enjoyment. Suffice it to say, my high school years are now quite a few years behind me... but it is good to see how quickly ideas can change!

Some people would say that, although teens are reading, what they're reading isn't worthwhile, or that they should be reading more non-fiction. I for one am plenty thankful that teenagers are reading in general; we can work on what they're reading once they're willing to hold a book in their hands. This brings me to the Wall Street Journal/NPR discussion of young adult literature, starting with Megan Cox Guordon's article "Darkness Too Visible", in which she highlights the darkness (and thus the danger) of recent teen lit. Guordon was subsequently responded to by Christopher John Farley with "Should Young Adult Books Explore Difficult Issues?" (to which I think the obvious answer is a resounding YES!). All of this "no don't read it!"/"yes you should!" hullabaloo was appropriately encapsulated in a recent NPR interview, "The Dangers, Values of Dark Teen Lit", between Guordon, Farley, author Patricia McCormick and librarian Candice Mack.

First of all, I love that the spirit of the conversation was focused on the fact that what teens are reading is important. Thank goodness that people have come to such a logical conclusion. And I do understand Guordon's perspective--that too great of a focus on the so-called 'darkness' of the world may cause us to lose sight of the light. However, I find it extremely difficult to think that keeping teenagers (or children for that matter) from reading or even hearing about the dark things that occur every day will do them any benefit. In fact, when I someday have children of my own, I intend to take Farley's approach: read books with my children. Now granted, 15-year-olds probably don't want (or need) story time with Mom and Dad, but I should hope that I can at least read books at the same time as my children.

The "I can't see it, and thus it doesn't exist" methods employed by far too many parents is doing obvious damage to the emotional, intellectual and ethical development of their children. It is all well and good to want to keep your children safe, but being safe and being ignorant of reality should not be synonymous. As Farley mentioned in the interview:

I think that if you start talking about cutting off exploring some of these topics in the world of literature, these topics won't disappear, they won't disappear from the kids' lives, they won't just disappear from the world, and certainly other forms of media will be ready to explore them in less interesting ways.

Being able to read well is more than just a practical skill to use in everyday life. Reading about fictional (or non-fictional) ideas that aren't easy to deal with allows teenagers a safe place to ask questions and develop strategies for dealing with difficult experiences. Obviously Hogwarts doesn't exist (though I'm sure there are some people who beg to differ in their love of HP, which I understand), but the challenge of maintaining friendships during stressful periods in life does exist. Obviously there is no such thing as the Hunger Games, but feeling the societal pressure to look/act/think a certain way is one hundred percent real.

I have great hope for teenagers. And I, like Patricia McCormick, understand that the teenagers of this generation do care about what is going on in the world around them. I know this because the students I worked with last year raised $10,000 to build a school in Africa. They obviously care. And, because they care, I think adults need to do as McCormick suggests:

[a]long with reading those books with them, that if we join them in efforts to address things like homelessness, teen pregnancy, incest, violence, that sort of thing, rather than take aim at the books, to join them where they are on their quest to make the world a better place.

Reading fiction, whether it is well-written or poorly written, dark or exuberant, allows teenagers to continue that quest to make the world a better place. If they read about a terrible world, perhaps it will cause them to realize the blessing it is to live in our world. Or, perhaps they will realize how similar that terrible, 'fictional' world is to the one in which we live. Regardless, I whole-heartedly support teens reading dark books, and not-so dark books... all on the condition that they have someone to safely discuss the book's ideas with.

On that note, a few reccomendations, all of which I have read myself. In no particular order:

• Divergent by Veronica Roth
• The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins
• The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
• The Giver by Lois Lowry
• Graceling by Kristin Cashore
• His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman
• Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
• The Book Thief by Markus Zusak*

* This is the only listed title I have yet to read, but I still include because it has won more than a dozen awards, and one of my former co-workers (who has reputable taste in books) adored it. I promise it's filed under "to read" in my Goodreads account.

--- chRistie