18 is Artitrary

On the Internet I go by Renaissance Kid or Josiah Power.

I taught myself to draw, use computers, film and more at an early age. I was learning languages but our family had some hard times, so I had to stop and there was no other school I could attend.  At age 11, one of my videos beat out the adults and was featured at an International Women’s Rights Forum. My videos have also been featured on YouTube. 

Places like Orlando Tech and Full Sail still kept telling me I was too young.  They said I had to wait ‘til I am 18 to be part of their program, even though my parents told them they would chaperone me to the classes. 

Yet every day I hear how young people in America are behind in education; how other kids in other nations are ahead of us. These kids do not have to wait ‘til they are 18. There are many young people in America who are talented, but if they are not playing basketball, football, singing, acting, or dancing, they are not recognized for their talents. There is nothing wrong with those talents, but those are not my talents. 

See me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/RenaissanceKiDD and on YOUTUBE at http://www.youtube.com/user/xwushux

Why Don't Adults Listen?

The following was submitted to my website by Jessica M. from Ireland. I have a space there for people to share their stories of adultism. (please visit it at: margaretpevec.com/adultism).

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Recently I was at an event and ran into the teacher of an art course I took when I was 16. She is much older than me and has children my own age.

We had a conversation and she asked me when I was going to learn to drive. I explained that I probably won't for the foreseeable future because I have a neurological problem. Her response?

“Well, you'll have to learn sometime.”

I explained that no, that is a very irresponsible view to take because I could have an attack and cause a crash. I also explained what my neurological issue was and exactly why it makes driving dangerous. She laughed and said 'but you'll have to learn sometime, it'll put you at such a disadvantage.

What got me was the difference in social status between us as “adult” and “young person” and the fact that older people are seen as wiser and more worthy of being listened to, whereas younger people are often seen as not having anything valid to say due to lack of life experience. And here was this “older person who knows best.” actually advising me to endanger my life and those of other people.

 

Invading the Personal Space of Young People

The following was submitted to my website by Jessica M. from Ireland. I have a space there for people to share their stories of adultism. (please visit it at: margaretpevec.com/adultism)

An example of adultism I experienced and still feel strongly about is physical touch. As a child I remember adults seemed to think it was okay to openly touch me, hug me, or play with my hair, even if I didn't know them. I think the assumption was that if you're young, you don't understand boundaries, so they don't have to worry about overstepping boundaries with a young person. I have mild Asperger's symptoms and one of them is a strong aversion to touch. Being a child at the time, I didn't really know how to handle the behaviour except by recoiling or saying loudly and defiantly "I don't like being touched!" I was called "rude" and told they were just being friendly; that the appropriate response was to smile politely. I find that ironic, since if anyone behaved like that to an adult, it would be the person doing the touching who would be called rude and the adult would be quite within their rights to refuse the unwanted touch. Yet because I was a child I was expected to tolerate the behaviour and smile about it. My mother, to her credit, explained that it was okay to refuse physical touch but that I should do it in a calm and polite way, such as "Excuse me but I don't like being touched unless it's by someone I know well."

I also had teachers at school behave in this overly familiar way. They would casually take hold of my arm or even mess with my hair, and would act very shocked and concerned when I refused their touching. At one school there was actually a list of students' rights, one of them being "to refuse unwanted touches." Yet they didn't like it if I said I didn't like being touched and acted as if I were being rude just for asserting basic boundaries.

I still feel angry when recalling these incidents. They were the adults, I was the child, yet I was the one expected to tolerate their inappropriate behaviour, because they were adults therefore it was okay.

My Story

Part of my passion about adultism comes from my own childhood. I was raised in rural NE Ohio, granddaughter of Slovenian immigrants. We lived on five acres, at least three of which were wooded and adjoining other undeveloped lands. My two older brothers and I (and other neighborhood kids) had tremendous freedom to roam and explore the natural world. I remember having my first picnic in the woods, sitting atop a huge rock with my best friend Tommy, sharing Kool Aid and sandwiches, when I was 5 years old. I’m sure our respective grandmothers were keeping an eye on us, but as far as I was concerned, we were alone. There was a silent message from those two grandmothers: we think you’re capable, we trust you.

My mom and I were always close, but sadly, by the time I reached junior high, I had already decided I couldn’t talk to her about the stressful things that were going on in my life: my developing body and budding sexuality, being overweight, hating to be naked for gym showers, the overwhelming changes of going from my small elementary school to the bigger junior high in town. I wanted to wear nylons and tennis shoes year round; she wanted me in sensible shoes and socks. I thought I needed a bra; she didn’t notice. I was in love with the sexy boy from the next township over. She thought he was a hoodlum (she was right).

Now I know my brain was taking it’s second growth spurt and that my thinking had become more complex. I could tell that my mom didn’t have the answers I needed. I knew her opinions were static, unyielding. Furthermore, no one talked to their parents in those days (the 60’s). The culture did not support closeness of the sort I had in my younger years with my mom. She and I lived in two separate worlds. Hers was the world of adults, the “know it all” beings who were in control and had all the answers. Mine was the world of young people, who didn’t. She was pretty much oblivious to what was happening in my life, and I liked it that way. Our patterns of non-relating lasted well into my adulthood.

Young people have a lot to teach adults, and adults have lots of experience to share with young people. But adults can’t know the truth of the younger generation, because it is always changing. The saddest result of adultism in my life, and the lives of many other teenagers, is that I didn’t have my mom as an ally when I needed her the most. I simply couldn’t trust her to respect me as an individual.