In praise of the glory of the humble teenager as “hero”
A question many parents ask themselves, at least once, when their children hit those “problematic years”. Why would anyone remotely coherent and sane choose to work in a school, especially one with teenagers?
Schools are marvellous places; altruistic organisations where young minds are developed and children explore their philosophical outlook on life, the world and everything in between. Pragmatically, they are establishments where parents send children to be cared for while they work. Cynics say they are a place to send children so that parents can achieve some peace and quiet.
Nelson Mandela praised education as:
“The most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”
Mandela recognised that schools help young people to learn life’s necessities: how to read and write, how to communicate effectively, how to make friends and settle disputes and play sports, act, sing, learn an instrument, pass exams, make jokes, share adventures and develop kindness, resilience and determination. Mandela also recognised education as a tool for the empowerment of young people.
Einstein was more critical of schools:
“Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school.”
Does school make education more of a challenge? Arguably it does. Schools are full of teenagers; teenagers experiencing growth spurts, hormonal surges and huge developmental changes: physical, cognitive and emotional.
The teenage years are notorious for impulsive behaviour, recklessness, disobedience, subversive rebellion, strange clothing choices, dyed hair or long hair or shaved hair or a combination of all three. Monotone answers (if given at all), excessive sleep, shouting, defiance, a loathing of authority and a desire for irresponsibility. Teenagers are the anti-heroes of developmental phases, as bad as the infamous “terrible twos.”
Which brings us back to the question: Why would anyone remotely coherent and sane choose to work in a school, with teenagers?
A recent British YouGov survey asked almost 1000 teachers to cite the reasons why they worked in the profession. The top reason? 83% of teachers said seeing pupils develop and achieve. What is all the more astounding about this figure is that teenagers are not renowned for their good judgement, sensible decision making or respectful love of authority. They are not renowned for heroism. And yet, as teachers we love our jobs, we strive for our best to honour young people’s decisions and support them in their learning, support them on their hero’s journeys.
Since Einstein’s school days, educationalists have become more aware of the cognitive developments in young brains. We know that the rational part of a teenager’s brain is not fully developed, and won’t be until the age of 25. Teenage brains work differently. Adults think with the prefrontal cortex, the brain’s rational part, the part that responds to situations with good judgement and an awareness of long-term consequences. Unlike adults, teenagers process information with the amygdala, the emotional part of the brain.
Teenager’s brains are still developing the connections between the emotional and the decision-making centre. They often experience overwhelming emotional inputs which they find difficult to explain because their feelings are more powerful than the rational aspects of their brains. This can lead to shouting with frustration, denying homework ever existed in the first place and hating everyone, everywhere, all of the time.
A teenager’s brain also becomes more able to think abstractly. They can make plans and set long-term goals, they can develop an interest in the larger world, concerned with philosophy, politics, and social issues. Teenagers see the potential for independence and control, and, conversely, peer influence and acceptance becomes more important; they compare themselves to their peers. This can lead to insecurity, joy and anger - sometimes all at the same time.
The teenage years are also a period of growth spurts and puberty. Teenagers grow at a fast pace and their bodies go through changes which can feel overwhelming, frustrating and sometimes frightening. They can be more like gawky, clumsy spiders than graceful, heroic athletes or dancers.
So we ask again, why would anyone remotely coherent and sane choose to work in a school, with teenagers?
The response to the question, for me, is that it can feel quite magical to work in a school and just observe, over the course of a year or years, as these teenagers become young people. It feels magical to watch teenagers’ brains develop, as they discover the breadth and beauty of the world, as they create opinions and battle their impulsivity and make mistakes and learn from their experiences. James Sallis, in his novel Willnot, describes this: “Think of the energies required to bend…into conformance and hold them there." At the end of this piece is a link to a poem which encapsulates the celebration of life as a teacher and the joys of working with young people every day.
It is extraordinary and magical, as a teacher, to be a part of young people’s lives at this stage of their development. Being a teenager takes immense courage and energy, every single day, to face GCSE exams and A levels, to negotiate friendships and expectations and depths of feelings which seem inexplicable. Teenagers walk their paths every day with hope and joy and sometimes fear, yet journey on with energy and resilience. We are privileged to see those children emerge from the chrysalis of their teenage years and become young adults. We teach in schools, with teenagers, because it is an everyday miracle, to experience the glory of the humble teenager as they walk their hero’s journey.
