What Threatens Our Youth Most?

I have a confession to make. I watch a lot of TV. Enter my home on any given weeknight, and you’ll find me on the couch with a blanket, a remote and something to eat. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t have a love for the written word. Being a writer affords me the passion, if not the necessity, to pick up the paper, a book or a magazine and read to my heart’s content. But after the kids are in bed and the kitchen’s cleaned, I indulge in TV talk shows and prime-time dramas to escape my mother-of-three, cul-de-sac existence.

And, granted, we have more channels, and hence much more junk. But in the aftermath of Sept. 11, it ain’t all bad, folks. Celebrity interviews discuss movie projects that, once halted after the tragedy, are now moving forward with a renewed sense of duty, patriotism and a need to contribute in a meaningful way. Prime-time storylines weave messages of tolerance and respect for Muslims in ways that are more relevant to viewers than in previous times. At the end of the hour, I am often reminded of the preciousness of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

The underlying theme in these new media messages is that basically everyone wants a safe, good life for themselves and their children. We want reassurance that our children will be free from terrorist oppression. But I’m not so sure that’s the enemy that is the most threatening to our youth.

In February, 15-year-old Charles Bishop flew a plane into a Tampa skyscraper and killed himself. Immediately the reaction was “It’s part of Bin Laden’s network,” and the chase was on to hunt down the fallen youth’s alliances. Later it was learned that he acted alone. Acquaintances described Charles as reserved with signs of depression. Conversely, his mother described him as happy and well-adjusted.

Then there’s John Walker Lindh, from my hometown of San Anselmo, in Marin County, being held for ties with Al Qaeda terrorists. Scratch the surface of a well-to-do family living in a privileged area and you find a young man with a few demons in the closet.

It seems to me that no matter how hard we try to batten down the hatches at airports and continue our state of heightened alert, the real danger to our youth is the lack of emotional intimacy from their parents. Granted, the troubles of Bishop and Lindh are probably deeply rooted, but as I parent, I know how much my emotional connection to my own children affects their well-being.

And I suspect that while Bishop and Lindh are extreme examples of young people in distress, my instincts tell me that if they had been well-grounded by a consistent, nurturing group of loved ones, these tragedies could have been prevented. But it seems to me we’re putting more of an emphasis on “staying safe”--that is, physical security--and overlooking the importance of securing our children’s mental well-being, by connecting with them on their level.

A classic example is how we begin in the early parenting years. Every time I’m at the playground, I see a parent reprimanding a child for being emotional. “Don’t cry,” the mother scolds her toddler, upset over a sand toy dispute. “You keep it up and you’re in time-out!”

Instead of acknowledging what the child is feeling, this reprimand teaches the child that unchecked emotions are unacceptable to the parent. Fast-forward to the teen years, and no wonder our kids withdraw and seek unhealthy outlets for their feelings.

Particularly in Orange County, I notice parents determined to “give their children every advantage,” in the form of a jampacked schedule that leaves little down time to just be with the child. How are we truly going to be in touch with our children when we’re so preoccupied with getting them to practice on time and getting first place in the science fair?

We have become so focused on what our children do that we are losing touch with who they are. That’s not to say helping our children achieve goals isn’t good. But substituting perfect attendance at soccer practice with real emotional intimacy can be disastrous for the child’s well-being.

We need to embrace our children’s emotions, honor them and help them cope. “I’m sorry you’re upset right now, and I know this is difficult for you” sure goes further than “Stop crying, we’re late for karate.” When we do this, we truly support our children, which is what unconditional love is all about.

The CBS drama “CSI” portrayed an airplane passenger whose unruly behavior leads passengers to think he is a terrorist. People descend on him and kill him. It’s later revealed that he was suffering from encephalitis and unable to communicate his physical distress.

I think in some ways we do the same thing with our children. Rather than taking five minutes to ask, “Are you OK?,” we bulldoze feelings because they interfere with the schedule or make us uncomfortable. I wonder what five minutes of compassion would have done for John Walker Lindh or Charles Bishop. The main character on “CSI” summed it up perfectly: “It took five men to kill this man. Maybe it would have taken just one to save him.”