Pearls: Moody teens, looking back

EDITORIAL MUG: Matt Pearl

A former student of mine was engaging in a bit of self-effacing humor on social media the other day, laughing at an overly emotional post she placed on Facebook almost a decade and a half ago.

I clearly have no social media points of reference from my teenage years – it would be over a decade after I graduated high school that Facebook could come along.I do, however possess memories of my angsty teenage years, and several of my recollections are pretty laughable.

For example, I remember closing my bedroom door and playing music on my CD player, music with deep, meaningful lyrics. I guess I thought if the music went into my ears, then by some form of osmosis I would gain a better understanding of the world.

My dad fueled the fire, throwing the poetic sounds of his 1960s into my collection. When I’d play some Bob Dylan or Simon and Garfunkel, I was sure I was on my way to knowing more of what I was sure my dad had learned already.

When I was in high school, the grunge poets were blasting anthems that were less about social rebellion, and more about reminding everyone that money and materialism were evil. How these folks, who sold their music and became millionaires, were able to speak such a message without feeling like hypocrites is beyond me.

I remember receiving a heartbreak or two. I remember watching Dead Poets Society and wishing I could have a teacher inspire me to care more about what I was reading.

I remember dark rides home on a school bus after basketball games, sitting in the same brown (sometimes green) plastic seats that they still put into those enormous yellow transport tubes. I remember brooding because I was tall, but I wasn’t talented. I should have have 8 or 10 points tonight. Instead, I had two and missed a couple free throws.

Why was I such a brooding mess? Well, I know the answer now.

A couple of decades as an educator working with teenagers taught me many things, perhaps the greatest of which is this: teens are moody.

And moody I was. Sometimes when I think back on it, that whole time of life is just pretty embarrassing even to visit in the privacy of my own memories.

To be fair, though, why should it be? Isn’t everyone pretty much an awkward mess when they’re that age?

But along with my angsty poet stage, I also remember gaining a little confidence when I was about 16. I dated some nice girls, drove an old car and learned to grab a basketball rim. I went to college and made some friends and learned a lot from several wonderful teachers.

I got a teaching job and coached some basketball and met my wife and had a family. Somewhere along the way I gained 50 pounds and bought a newspaper company.

That same emotional kid, the skinny one listening to folk rock and trying not to feel alone, has kids of his own. I’m presently awaiting my kids to embark upon their own awkward stages. They’ll certainly have a dad who understands those feelings.

After I saw that former student’s post about her teenage fury, I did take a moment to feel downright thankful that social media didn’t exist when I was a kid. Knowing my 16-year-old self, I probably would have overshared and made a cyber-idiot out of myself.

No, I’m content with the occasional newspaper clipping or yearbook phot taken of me during my awkward teenage years. I’ll never understand my haircut or why I didn’t just wear smaller clothes that fit me better, but that’s just part of growing up, I guess.

Matt Pearl owns and operates The Tri-County Ledger.