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Family Circle (October 1957) "What Teen-Agers Expect from Parents" By James MacArthur as told to Jack Long To the 19-year-old actor son of actress Helen Hayes come letters from troubled youngsters all over the country. What he says about adolescent dilemmas and their solutions -- based on his life with his own parents -- has punch and point. I guess every generation has trouble figuring out the next one, but today there seems to be more misunderstanding than ever. Since Ive been in one movie, have just finished making another, and have had my name in the papers, teen-agers all over the country are writing me letters about the problems they have with parents. They pick me partly because I played the role of a mixed-up teen-ager in The Young Stranger. But the main reason is that a lot of youngsters feel their families dont really try to understand them. So they tell their troubles to somebody else. Some of the letters sound desperate. When my dad got elected to Congress three years ago, writes a 16-year-old boy, the nation may have gained a statesman, but I lost a father. He doesnt have time for me. Its just lucky I have good judgment. A 15-year-old Texas girl tells me that she learned from her best friend all she knows about how to act with boys. I realize that what shes told me should have come from my parents, she writes. Parents dont know were human! says one boy ... You have to have someone to idealize and confide in, writes a cute blonde who sends me her picture ... My folks wont listen to me, and they make fun of my friends. another girl complains. Most of these teen-agers dont expect me to solve their problems, and Im no one to give advice, even though I try to answer the letters. They just feel a need to communicate with someone. Maybe the following letter sums up the difficulty as well as any of them. Its from a 17-year-old high-school boy in Illinois: Dear Jim: My folks tell me Im not old enough to drive to Colorado next summer. Then they turn around and tell me I ought to get a vacation job -- now that Im grown up. Boy, is that confusing! Am I grown-up or arent I? When I point out the inconsistency, nobody pays any attention. Thats the complaint I get most often from both boys and girls: Parents tell them theyre grown-up one minute and treat them like children the next. When they want you to do something, youre grown-up, a college buddy of mine said recently. When you want to do something, youre still a child. I know thats true from my own experience, even though I was lucky in my choice of parents. Take the car problem in our family. Last year, when I was a senior at Solebury School, in New Hope, Pennsylvania, Mom and Pop told me that if I were graduated with satisfactory marks, they would give me a sports car. That really bucked me up, and I managed to get through all right and pass my college-board exams. Shortly before I was graduated, my father died. He was the writer Charles MacArthur; youve probably seen some of his plays and movies. I got the car I had been promised, but it wasnt until recently that Mom told me she and Pop had had a big discussion before buying it. They knew I could handle a car, because Id chauffeured them around a lot. But Mom worried about my driving by myself. Somebody advised her to have a governor put on the car so it couldnt go more than 40 miles an hour. What do you think of that idea? she asked my father. Look -- Pop said, you cant give a young man a chariot and then turn it into a baby carriage. That was the end of the discussion. It proved that Pop had confidence in me and didnt think I was still a child. Knowing that has made me drive sensibly. A classmate of mine actually was given a car with a governor. He went to a garage and had it taken off and a supercharger installed. He drives like a maniac and thinks hes putting over a good one on his folks. I feel its partly their fault, for they were treating him like an infant and an adult at the same time. I think any teen-ager who has had good driving instruction and has passed his license test should be trusted by his parents to have some judgment. If he hasnt, it must be due largely to their failure. Heres a letter I received from a girl whos a high-school junior in a New York suburb: What really makes me mad is my folks constantly laying down the law and then, when you ask why you must not do a certain thing, replying Because I say so. That really is the end! A lot of teen-agers, feeling that adults passing out thou-shalt-nots without discussing the reasons behind the rules is strictly for six-year-olds, expect parents and teachers to give them credit for a little sense. In your teens you know there still have to be family regulations, but often its like telling a baby not to put beans up his nose. Hed never think of doing it if he hadnt been told not to. When I was in boarding school, many of us got the idea that rules were made to be broken. Anything we were ordered not to do immediately became attractive. We werent allowed to smoke before we were 16, so naturally I did smoke -- and got put on bounds and given extra work. Drinking, of course, was forbidden, so a few boys tried that. I dont think they would have cared about it, except that drinking was about the worst thing you could do and meant expulsion. The severity of the punishment didnt matter. Some teen agers just have to rebel, and I notice this is especially true of those who come from strict homes. Parents ought to understand that being dictatorial with teen-agers is sure to cause trouble. Here again I was lucky. Naturally my mother knew Id been caught sneaking smokes at school. When I came home, she said, If you want to smoke, do it in front of me. Dont go and hide. After that I didnt care so much whether I smoked. Pop used a different approach. Ive smoked since I was 21, and I wish Id never started, he said. You ought to consider what some authorities claim may be the possible effect on your health 20 years from now, not just the fun you can have smoking today. Then he let me make my own decision. And so I smoke. But I dont do it just because my parents forbade smoking. I thank my father for not just saying, Dont do as I do -- do as I say -- and letting it go at that. He and Mom were always willing to explain things -- and to listen. Thats one thing teen-agers feel they have a right to ask -- that their parents pay attention to what they think and feel. A lot of parents are like the father in The Young Stranger -- always too busy to talk to a son except when the boy is in trouble. My mother Helen Hayes MacArthur is one of this countrys greatest actresses. (A lot of people smarter than I am agree about that.) Sometimes at our home in Nyack, New York, she locks herself up all day studying a role. Once, she deserted a houseful of guests and hid in the garage with the script of Victoria Regina. When shes busy, shell answer the phone in a different voice, pretend shes a maid, and say, Mrs. MacArthur isnt here. But shes never too busy to talk to me if theres something on my mind. Our conferences usually take place with me sitting on the edge of Moms bed, either in the morning when shes having breakfast or at night over a snack. Were quiet and relaxed then, and nobody else is around -- which is important. We talk over serious problems, such as we did a while ago when I was discouraged about my work as a freshman at Harvard University. My grades werent too good, and I wondered if I should quit and go to work. I had movie offers, and I was also busy part of the time editing a teen-age magazine. Why do I really want a diploma? I asked Mom. You cant do anything with one except frame it. Mom didnt give me a pep talk or make fun of my doubts. I didnt go to college, she said, and I dont know whether it helps anyone become an actor -- if thats what you decide to be. But Ive always believed in trying to win your battles in life. Perhaps you should win this one and finish your first year. Then you can decide whether you want to go back. I won the battle and got through. I worked on my second movie -- Walt Disneys The Light in the Forest -- last summer, and its back to college for me this autumn. Perhaps if I wind up as an actor, Ill be a better one for knowing history and economics and literature and a little more about the world we live in. If Mom hadnt listened to my troubles and given me good advice, I might have made the wrong decision. Im surprised by the number of letters I get from youngsters who say Dont quit college or An education is something no one can take away from you. I wonder where people get the idea that teen-agers arent concerned about getting educated. A 16-year-old girl wrote to me recently from Maryland, saying, Parents dont realize that adolescence is not a happy time of life. Theres so much we have to learn in such a short time: All the decisions -- where to go to college, what kind of career to aim for, jobs, dating, and maybe getting engaged -- that have to be made in order to plan your whole life. Yet my folks dont take any of this seriously. They say Do this and Dont do that, but theyre talking at me, never discussing things with me. From Illinois a 17-year-old boy wrote me that he was going to quit school and run away from home because, he said, My folks wont trust me to do anything on my own. Theyre trying to protect me from life. Im no psychologist, but from knowing myself and other teen-agers, Ive learned that the more were treated as children, the more well carry on a war for independence. I was pretty obstreperous myself, and my folks and I had disagreements over the hours I had to get home, my friends and their conduct, schoolwork, clothes, fresh talk, manners, and all the other problems of growing up. But we managed to work these things out because I never felt there was anything I couldnt go to my parents and talk about. I believe thats the confidence a teen-ager needs most of all. One thing we didnt have any trouble over was money. I was given a regular allowance, and we agreed on the things I had to pay for -- which is the way most teen-agers want it. Usually I came out ahead at the end of the week because I just naturally pinch pennies. I didnt learn that from my mother. Shes been known to start for 5th Avenue to buy herself a new winter coat and to come home with a French painting. She adds up her yearly accounts and finds she spent a terrific amount on her garden, and nobody can figure out where the money went. Im thankful, though, that my parents never gave me the idea that money was something to throw around for show. When I began to go out at night, my folks were smart about regulating my hours. They didnt make hard and fast rules and say, Home at 10 Fridays. Home at 11 Saturdays. Instead Mom or Pop would ask me where I was going and when the dance or movie would be over. When will you be home? one of them would ask, and Id explain the plans. We arranged the schedule, by common agreement, and I never felt they were dictating to me. I believe thats the way teen-agers like to be treated. Of course, I realize its not always parents who are wrong. Youngsters, too, can be pretty impossible. One afternoon when I was 13, I asked Mom if I could go downtown in Nyack, and she said no, that she wanted me to do something at home. I went upstairs where Pop was writing and said casually, Im going downtown to meet some of the fellows. Okay? Sure, he said. Be back in time for dinner. When I came home, they were both waiting for me. Jim, Pop said, did it ever occur to you that its wrong to try to make fools out of your father and mother? He explained that when either of my parents told me to do something, he or she was speaking for both of them. He was real cool about it, but Mom blew her stack the way she does. I never tried a trick like that again. Sometimes Id ask Mom to try to get something out of Pop for me, but shed always say, Well talk it over together. There was never any further misunderstanding among us. Many teen-agers tell me they resent the way the folks treat their friends. A lot of youngsters used to hang around the street corners in Nyack because they couldnt have a good time at home. At our house on the other hand, the crowd was always welcome. If I wanted a bunch in, I could have the basement recreation room, or if Mom and Pop wanted to watch television down there, I got the living room. One of them always stayed somewhere in the house when I had friends in, but the folks were never nosy -- just careful. One night all the lights were turned out in the living room, and Mom opened the door and stuck her head in. Is anyone here? she asked, and some wise guy said, Nobody but us mice. Mom flipped the lights on and said theyd stay on. I didnt blame her. When I was about 13, I had one pal who was fresh to Mom. Pop told me not to invite the boy home any more. If I cant bring him here, Ill see him outside, I said. I ought to be allowed to pick my friends; I dont mix with yours. Pop thought that over. All right, he said, see him outside. But anyone who comes here will have to show some respect for your parents. Strangely enough, I soon dropped that particular friend. If Pop had put his foot down and forbidden me to see him, Id probably have kept on doing so just to show how big I was. Thats the way teen-agers are. Many youngsters tell me that their parents wont let them go away during vacations and take summer jobs. Im no authority, but from my own experience Id say that was a mistake. Mom first sent me to a summer work camp in Colorado when I was 13. Before that she often took me with her and my late sister Mary when they worked in summer stock. When I was 16, I got a vacation job at a summer theatre on Cape Cod. I made $35 a week for working about 11 hours a day, seven days a week. I ran the parking lot, painted stage sets, and was assistant electrician. By the time I had paid for my room and board, my net profit was zero. But I dont think you can count the value of a summer job in dollars and cents. In my own case I learned something about the theatre, and the experience may have helped me choose a career. Summer work can help anybody develop judgment and figure out what he wants to do. Believe it or not, youngsters write me that their parents sometimes discourage them from taking vacation jobs and tell them they ought to enjoy life while they can. I wonder if these parents just dont want their offspring to grow up. During my final year at Solebury our anthropology teacher offered to take a bunch of us on a summer safari to Africa after graduation. He had lived in Africa, and he made it sound exciting. A lot of fellows wanted to go and asked their parents permission. Mine said yes, but most of the others said no because they didnt think teen-agers could take care of themselves in Africa, even under the leadership of an expert. I was proud that my folks had confidence in me, and I was sorry the safari never got organized. Instead I went to Hollywood to act in The Young Stranger. It was the best-paying summer job I ever had. Many teen-agers write me to ask what I think about rock n roll. They tell me their parents consider the craze a symptom of juvenile delinquency that should be stamped out. Personally I like rock n roll. I was discussing it recently with one of my professors at Harvard. He told me that 20 years ago, when Benny Goodmans band brought to Cambridge something called swing, the teen-agers of that day almost stomped a dance hall into the Charles River. It must be some of those same teen-agers, 20 years later, who are telling their own youngsters that rock n roll is degenerate. Another thing that teen-agers and parents argue about is the question of going steady. When I was in boarding school, there was a rule against it -- which is an example of the way adults think any problem can be solved by making rules. I was president of the senior class, and I meant to abide by the school regulations. But I also had a girl Id been going with for two years. The solution was fairly simple: Joyce and I didnt go steady after it was forbidden to do so; we just didnt go out with anyone else. I got a letter on this subject the other day. Why cant parents be consistent? a girl in Georgia asked. My folks opposed my older brothers engagement because hed known the girl only a month. Now, Ive been going steady with a boy for two years, and they oppose that. I say that our getting to know each other well is the best insurance for marriage. If we cant get along, well find out now and not after were married. But the folks dont seem to understand. I dont know the answer, but in my case I think Mom used the right tactics. As soon as she knew I was interested in Joyce, she invited her to our house. The first summer I went to Hollywood, I asked Mom if I could drive my car from Nyack, and she said yes. Them Mom decided that she, too, would go to California, and she invited Joyce to go along in her car. They got to be good friends on that trip across the country. Mom says they know each other as well as people of different generations can. A girl in Kansas wrote me: I want someone to explain that we arent all juvenile delinquents, that we have problems and need understanding -- but most of all that we are people! Ive never had that problem with my own parents. My folks always assumed I was an individual with a life of my own to lead. They made the road to maturity -- which Im still traveling at 19 -- as short and straight as possible. If I get off the track, I can never blame Mom and Pop. They gave me the most important thing a teen-ager needs to prepare himself for life and marriage: A happy home to grow up in. |
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