In a world of stranger danger and hyper-caution, I don't often get handed an opportunity to talk to teenagers who are strangers to me. I had several chances to do just that over the last couple of weeks and found it irresistible.
I asked each of them what problem their generation faces that really needs to be dealt with right away.
I was not expecting any kind of consensus, especially given the diversity of the individuals. And the conversations were mostly impromptu, one-on-one. So they weren't influencing each other, either.
I talked to a 17-year-old girl, the proud owner of a perfect report card and high school resume as she was preparing for a scholarship interview, then to a boy who was much like her. I talked to a teenage boy who was shooting hoops in his baggy shorts and shaggy hair outside of the car repair shop his dad owns. I talked to kids in malls and while riding light rail and at the library.
I was careful to make the question about their generation. I didn't want filtering and have found at any age we're willing to tell what we think has gone wrong in someone else's life, less willing to address our own issues.
Because I'm the mother of teens, I know that substance abuse is scary-rampant. I know about girls as young as ninth grade who are pregnant. I know that many of my daughters' peers already date, although it's not happening yet at my house. And it seems that some of the youths I know are primarily raising themselves or, worse, trying to be responsible and in a sense raise their parents, who are emotionally absent, immature or addicted. It's more common than I would have believed.
Those answers wouldn't have surprised me. But that's not the response I got.
Nine out of a dozen kids answered: communication. They have plenty to say, but if they can't say it in a text message, complete with abbreviations and stylistic quirks, many of them can't say it at all. They know it. It even worries them a little bit.
Most kids don't like to talk on the phone any more, except perhaps to their parents, one of the girls said. And that's easier by text, too. They're often not even comfortable talking by phone to their closest friends. Yet they text constantly, a steady stream of "Hey," and "what's up?"
A dad told me his son was having some serious issues. He'd gotten involved with drugs and knew he was going to be in serious trouble if he didn't deal with it right away. He told his dad what was happening in a text message, then the dialog volleyed back and forth that way for a while. They are barely, the dad said, beginning to vocalize what's been going on and what they hope to do about it.
It's hard to get my own daughters' thumbs to stop twitching long enough to do other things. But I watched the oldest put off making a phone call for a school assignment until she was crunched up against a tight deadline because she hates the telephone.
Kids need to be able to articulate with words. They are right; we need to work on that.
But the texting frenzy is not without an upside. I hear from my daughters, although in brief spurts, more than I would if they had to call me. I'm apt to get a quick text when something's funny or sad or utterly random. I hear it in real time — and those messages light up my life.
Deseret News staff writer Lois M. Collins may be reached by email at lois@desnews.com. Follow her on Twitter at loisco.