An Adolescent Father

AN ADOLESCENT FATHER

Recently I found a beautifully bound and presented folder which was
labelled "Autobiography of 11 years". My eldest wrote it 5 or 6 years
ago. It read:-

"I am 11 at the moment. My name is Caroline Louise Chanson. I live at 8
Arliss Gardens, Seffington, Wiltshire. I love; Newcastle Utd, Sport,
Chocolate Chips, Writing Stories, shopping, Spice Girls, Peter Andre,
Neighbours and Casualty. I hate; picked onions, gerkins, spots, Take
That, washing or drying up, and wearing glasses. So basically that's
me. Read on to find out about: my family, my friends, more about me and
occupations!

I have a sister, Alison age 8, 9 on March 13th, I normally argue with
her. I also have a brother, Nathan, Nat for short, who's 5, 6 on April
the 9th. He's o.k. Then there's mum, Jill age 37, 38 August the 1st.
Last but not least Dad, 36, 37 February 5th. He always jokes and makes
up stories of his past that usually aren't true. So that's my family
for you (pickie on back).

My best friends are; Donna Reed, Leiticia Wilde, Kelly Williamson, and
Susan Green. Susan's a year older than me, but the others are in the
same year, at the same school as me. Other friends in school are; Bobby
Bryan, Jennifer Smith, Harriet Shackleworth, Peter O'Donohue, &;
more! I hang about with Jennifer, Donna, Harri, Leiticia and Kelly most
break and lunch times at school.
I do quite a lot with my friends. They are Great!

I go to St George's primary school around the corner.Y6. There are 3
classes. I play cello, I've taken Grade 3. I have a lesson on a monday
before school. I'm quarter Malayasian. I am Christian, but we don't go
to church every Sunday. I also have expensive taste!

To keep busy I go to ballet on Monday and Wednesday, I am also in an
orchestra, we rehearse on Tuesdays. I am also a guide. We meet Tuesday
7:30pm - 9:00pm. I go to football club after school, at school on
Wednesdays, I sometimes go swimming on Thursday late. I enjoy all my
activities a lot."

- * * * -

How things can change. Isn't it a crime that such bright sparky
innocence can vanish in such a short space of time? I must be an
accomplice to the crime, because I am the parent, the responsible
adult, the potential role model, the guardian of the innocence of my
off-spring, I am custodian of their morality. I must be guilty for
contributing to the killing off of such ebullience or at least there
can be no doubt that I am guilty of the lesser, but no less tragic
charge, of letting such ebullience be destroyed. What did I do to stop
it? Was I even aware it was happening. Have I been so wrapped up in the
complexities of my own world that I didn't notice her world changing?
If I hadn't by chance come across the folder, would I have remembered
that glorious age at all? And do I have the ability, do I have the
energy, the will, the interest to try and rediscover some of that
simple happiness of the recent past?

"I love; Newcastle Utd, Sport, Chocolate Chips, Writing Stories,
shopping, Spice Girls, Peter Andre, Neighbours and
Casualty&;#8230;"

What does she love now? When did she become an introspective, cynical
teenager? Was I there when it happened? How can things change so
drastically? How can things change so drastically in such a relatively
short period of time?

"I have a sister, Alison &;#8230; I normally argue with her."

Sibling rivalry has been replaced with vicious jealousy. I understood
the cause of the problem. Their personalities are so different but
underneath it their characters are so similar. So why did I do nothing
to stop the differences and similarities from festering into hatred.
Why didn't I interfere, as I did needlessly with so many trivial
things. Why did the cat fight get out of hand. Why were the scissors
lying so near. Why can't the doctors find a way to repair Alison's
spine so that she can get out of that wheelchair. And why, can anyone
ever explain just WHY has Caroline never shown any remorse.

"Dad &;#8230; always jokes and makes up stories of his past that
usually aren't true."

The rapport we had is well and truly dead. People talk about kids
growing up, why don't we warn people that they grow apart from you as
well. That little passage shows how much we were on the same wave
length and we'd spend plenty of time in each other's company and
enjoyed doing just everyday things together. Now she'd cross the road
to avoid me. Now I hardly every see her. On the rare occasions when she
is at home, she'd almost exclusively skulk in her room. We just don't
communicate any longer. By that I don't mean that we don't understand
each other, I mean that we literally don't talk to each other. We just
have nothing to say. We don't share any simple interests. She certainly
doesn't want the benefit of my experience, whereas I yearn for her to
seek out my advice.

"I do quite a lot with my friends. They are Great!"

Where are those "friends" now? It must have been within a matter of
weeks of writing this that Caroline started to have friendship
problems. I think the basic problem was that she got too possessive.
One of the "best friends" clearly realised this and exploited the
situation just for the primitive thrill of feeling the exercise of
power of one individual over another. She built Caroline up and then
for sheer devilment set everyone against her. It got quite nasty.
Caroline was desperate. Yet within weeks this other little madam
enticed Caroline back into her close friendship. Once again she
cultivated Caroline's feelings and then dashed them. I remember it so
well. I could see what was going to happen but, as hard as it may be,
sometimes a parent can't interfere, they have to stand by and watch as
their child gets hurt. Sometimes there is no other way to learn the
hard lessons of life. What happened in the end was that over a period
of two days this little madam sent other "friends" to repeatedly knock
on our door and ask for Caroline and to then tell her they "all" hated
her. After a while Caroline got over it, after a fashion. But from that
point forward she was always a more guarded person. A huge part of her
natural vivacity disappeared for good. I don't know if she'll ever
realise that this period of her life caused me physical pain.

Some of those "best friends" are turning into nice human beings. But
Caroline has taken a different path. Whilst they all went on to the
local secondary school, she had to go further afield so as to avoid
them. Ours is a small town and this makes her stand out and leaves her
somewhat without local friends.

And what became of Bobby and Peter? They were nice enough lads and are
developing in to pretty decent young men. Okay they were only kids, but
aged 11 they wouldn't overtly stand beside Caroline when she was having
problems with the girls and needed some support from her peers. Of
course now that Caroline has blossomed, they chase after her but she
blanks them completely, and I don't criticise her for that.

And what about our part as parents in all this? Like every parent you
always act on instinct doing what you feel is for the best. And like
almost every parent you spend the rest of your life wondering whether
you were right.

"I'm quarter Malaysian. I'm Christian. I have expensive tastes."

The pride in being different, in being quarter foreign is now replaced
by the need to fit in with the crowd. So she'd now deny being quarter
Malaysian and if the truth be known, and if you listen to some of her
new "friends", and if you listen to what's implied by some of the
things she herself says, you'd have to say that, despite having brown
skinned grand-parents, she's now quarter racist.

Christianity has gone along with all other meaningful beliefs. I'm
happy with atheists, but they've got to be good atheists. I can't
accept intellectually lazy atheists like Caroline. And yet she has the
brain power to reason it out, to think it through, to examine the
evidence, to compile and test her ideas, to establish some moral fibre.
Instead she's there by default. Her atheism has no value.

Expensive taste has led the way to petty shop-lifting. She hasn't been
caught. She denies it when I've confronted her, but she knows and I
know. Lots of people say that this is a phase that lots of kids go
through. But if you knew what a decent child Caroline used to be, you'd
be dismayed. If you knew how much effort I'd put in to demonstrating
the benefit of good values and sociable behaviour, then you'd be
devastated. The worst of it is that to me honesty is relative. If
someone thinks nothing of pinching a few bits from a shop, then their
crime is not as bad as someone who does exactly the same thing but
knows its wrong. Someone who steals out of desperation or depravation
does not commit the same crime as someone who steals exactly the same
amount for reasons of greed. May be this shoplifting is a phase that
will pass but even so I condemn myself for not instilling strong enough
values in Caroline so that it would instead have been a phase that
passed her by.

"I am also in an orchestra, we rehearse on Tuesdays."

One of the redeeming features that Caroline retained during her decline
was that she continued with the cello and orchestra. At the time she
wrote her piece she was clearly talented but she took music exams less
and less frequently and although she always passed them, her marks got
poorer and poorer. We did not suspect anything more than a gradual loss
of interest.

Caroline would catch the bus after school to a neighbouring town where
the orchestra rehearsed. Rehearsals were scheduled for two and a half
hours, and one of us would always go and pick her up. She'd usually be
waiting, with her cello. Although I do remember that once or twice she
forgot to take her cello in to school with her but she said she'd been
able to borrow a spare one when she got to rehearsals. Such was our
innocent trust that we never suspected for one moment the complex lie
that lay beneath this simple explanation.

One day I was going to collect Caroline. There was a major roadworks
with a detour en route so I planned to set off earlier than normal.
There was also a chore I wanted to run on the way so I allowed a little
more time still. As luck, bad luck would have it, the roadworks had
finished and I forgot about the chore I'd meant to do, consequently I
arrived at the music centre earlier than usual and via a route I hadn't
used before. Rounding an unfamiliar corner I saw Caroline sitting on a
bench, laughing with some much older lads. She was smoking. They were
drinking from cans of lager. In a moment she saw me and knew I'd seen
her.

In the car on our way home, she pleaded and reasoned. But all she
seemed embarrassed about were the boys, the lager, the smoking. I was
unable and have still been unable to get her to understand that none of
those things really bother me, it's the deceit that hurts. I can't tell
her mother, so it's now a guilty burden that I share.

You've read what she wrote at 11, read it again you'll see the
personality and potential that was there, there are no clues about any
latent faults or problems, there were no warnings of the heart-breaking
changes that would soon start. It's horrible having to give up on your
children. Next time I hear on tv, a tearful mother of some brutal
murderer defending, beyond all reason, her monster child as basically a
good kid that just got a little misled, I'll have a lot more
sympathy.

"I am 11 at the moment&;#8230;"

and in a moment it's all gone.

? Martyn Jansen, 2001