Remember reading the classic, Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? I’m reminded of this tale when listening to parents of tweens. As a middle school teacher I would have been confused, by this phenomenon of temporary schizophrenia, had I not experienced it first as a mother.
Jonathan was the child that every parent and teacher wanted to clone. He was kind and thoughtful to others; he was obedient and respectful to the adults in his sphere. He got along with most everyone. He was a good student but enjoyed success in other areas, too. And, he was generally responsible. This was the eleven-year-old that kissed his parents good night and went to bed.
But, another eleven-year-old boy emerged from that room the next morning. He looked like Jonathan. His voice sounded the same, but some altered universe had apparently taken hold of him during the night. He awoke with a sneer on his face and a snarky response to our every question and comment at the breakfast table. Who was this child? I thought he’d just awakened on the wrong side of the bed. I soon realized that this was to be our new norm. As weeks passed, I became more and more confused by this strange version of my son. I recall one particular incident in which he proudly showed me a completed school project he was to turn in that day. I was impressed and sure his teacher would be, too. The project was to represent a large percentage of his grade that term, so this was important. But, when he returned home and I questioned him about it. He just said, "I didn’t turn it in. I couldn’t find it." What did he mean, he couldn’t find it? I saw him put it into his backpack that morning. He was now insisting it disappeared. I went through the bag carefully straightening each wadded up paper that I found, discarding a banana peel and a couple of Goldfish in the process. And, I did discover other pieces of overdue work, but not the project. It couldn’t just vanish. While my frustration level was at its peak, Jonathan seemed nonchalant. What was going on here? I felt as if I’d been transported into the pages of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic. Mr. Hyde had taken up residence in our home.
When I was later teaching eleven-year-olds in sixth grade, I noticed there seemed to be a transition in my students around the mid-point of the year. They came to me as children in August, but when they returned from Christmas break, something significant had occurred to many of them during that two week period. Mr. Hyde or Miss Hyde had emerged. They were now tweens! Within the next month, parents began to call for conferences. Generally, the conversation would go something like this:
Have you noticed any changes in my child lately? He/She is like a different person. What happened to my sweet child? Help me! I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve tried everything, and I don’t like what I’m seeing.
At this point, I looked like the wisest teacher in the world. Why? Because I realized this was the norm for most tweens. I was able to relate the story of my own child’s transition. I recommended the parents be firm but consistent. If they followed this advice, knowing I would do the same at school, they could expect their Dr. Jekyll to return home eventually. It encouraged them to hear that after two years my sweet child came back. Mr. Hyde, with all of his unpleasant traits, went to bed, and a teenaged Dr. Jekyll joined us for breakfast the next morning. He was a welcomed sight!
Each year parents left this conference feeling somewhat better. They realized this was not a permanent condition, and it was not a result of some parenting flaw of theirs. They knew I was committed to helping with the same firm consistency they would apply at home. Though each child is unique, a transition is going to take place. It is God’s plan they transform from children to more mature teenagers toward becoming independent adults. For some the change is drastic. For others, it’s more subtle. The transition time is different. Jonathan’s took two years, a long two years, but there’s no set timetable.
Parents would often come back to see me a year or two later. They would offer thanks for the support and tell me their sweet child had returned. It was just a journey that was, at times, unpleasant for the whole family. But, I was usually told the wait was worth it.
What about you? Are you dealing with a tween? Do you have one of your own? Maybe you have a tween grandchild or a classroom of them. If dealing with a tween is causing you frustration, anxiety, or confusion, take a deep breath. Take it all to the Lord, and rest in Him. And, if you listen closely, I expect He will confirm what I have conveyed. Your child is going through a natural process of change. Yes, it is difficult. Yes, it impacts the entire family. You may feel overwhelmed, but it’s temporary. He/She is as confused as you are, and your love and consistency are needed, if not appreciated.
In Psalm 102:17 we read, “I call on you my God, for you will answer me; turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.” Remember this, He hears you. You’re not alone. You can do this! And, your sweet child will return home.
