Teenagers are a pretty disdained social group, and often rightfully so. They are surly, pretentious, selfish, annoying people and the universe tends to reject them. But, I have found myself just barely out of this near decade-long period of turmoil and now in a life where the students I work with are just a couple of years behind me. At this time in our life (I include both myself and the students) we are just birthing our egos, we have very little direction and no answers (perhaps not even proper questions). Being a "young adult" is unspeakably hard. With the discovery of identity, destiny, and freedom is also shame, fear, and loneliness. Without even really touching on the fact that the students here have the added obstacle of special needs, I can assert that the birth of adulthood is painful.
I haven't updated my "charming adventures in England" in over a term now. There is really more than I can tell you. I guess I would just like to report that despite my grandly courageous gesture of moving across the ocean - I have very little idea of who I am or what I am doing. I guess the relieving part is that the students don't really either. I struggle with almost every action of every day obsessively searching for meaning and purpose and soul-discovering clarity. But my life is not going to suddenly erupt into the final chapter of a coming-of-age novel. Instead, every day I must simply encounter and recognize the souls of these young adults around me, dealing with their own struggle for independence, self-knowledge and purpose. I encounter them, offering no answers or help - merely a recognition that each is a real, whole person. We bounce our uncertain reflections off each other - over meals and basket-weaving, and walks to the grocery store.
I'm not really a grown-up. But I am real.
ps. This was vague and a little self-absorbed, I think. But that is the mark of a young adult. Forgive me.
