Michael K. Meyerhoff, Ph.D.
One of the more interesting and important notions in the study of human development is the appearance of a critical psycho-social "crisis" at each stage across the life span.
The totally helpless infant must develop a sense of trust. The increasingly capable toddler must develop a healthy feeling of independence. The imaginative and creative pre-schooler must develop confidence in his capacity to take the initiative. The elementary school child must develop the belief that he can master the basic skills that will someday allow him to be a competent, productive, industrious member of his society and culture.
For the adolescent, the crisis concerns the issue of identity. During this period, the individual must develop a well-organized conception of himself made up of values and goals to which he is solidly committed. Unfortunately, for most teenagers, achieving a solid identity can be a difficult process. And the fact of the matter is that our particular society and culture doesn't make it any easier.
At the beginning of adolescence, most kids are in a state of identity "diffusion." That is, they do not have firm commitments to values and goals, and they are not actively trying to reach them. After all, everything in their lives is in flux. Within their families, they are constantly being made aware that they are no longer children, but they also are routinely being warned that they have a long way to go before they become adults. They are going from the familiar consistency of elementary school to the complex diversity of middle and high school.
Physically, drastic changes are taking place on a daily basis, and they are not even sure what to expect when they look in the mirror each morning. It is no wonder that they tend to be focused strictly on getting through the present day and can't devote much mental and emotional energy to considering the future.
Regrettably, it is not our general policy to give teenagers time to get their bearings and figure things out for themselves. Rather quickly, we put pressure on them to define themselves and make specific plans. What are your strengths and weaknesses? What are your interests? To what colleges will you apply? For what type of career will you begin to prepare yourself? Where are you going and what will you be doing for the rest of your life?
While some kids can answer these questions with a fair degree of certainty, most are totally clueless at this point in development. However, instead of giving them the time and space to explore the alternatives on their own and come to their own conclusions, we typically insist that decisions be made immediately so as not to waste valuable time and/or lose possibly fleeting opportunities.
As a result, many adolescents enter a state that is referred to as identity "foreclosure." Their personal ignorance and confusion makes them extremely susceptible to pressure and pronouncements from other people.
Since they do not really know who they are and what path to take, they allow authority figures such as parents, teachers, and guidance counselors, to provide them with ready-made solutions to these issues ‚ and those authority figures often are quite insistent that they accept these solutions.
But leaving adolescence with a foreclosed identity is a bad idea. Because the individual is neither comfortable with nor committed to the identity that has been chosen for him, he is likely to enter young adulthood feeling miserable about himself. This obviously is a major problem in and of itself.
Tragically, it is compounded when he faces the next life crisis which involves establishing an intimate, meaningful, and permanent relationship with someone else. As any pop psychologist will tell you, in order to love someone else, you must first love yourself. A foreclosed identity definitely undermines that process.
The more fortunate individual will shake off the foreclosed identity and spend some time in late adolescence and/or early adulthood in a state that is referred to as identity "moratorium." He will reject what has been chosen for him, and then will scrutinize himself actively and extensively while carefully and conscientiously studying the options available to him. Eventually, he will arrive at solid, self-selected conclusions regarding his values and goals, and thus will enter a state that is referred to as genuine identity "achievement."
Many mothers and fathers are alarmed by and extremely uncomfortable with a moratorium. They interpret what is going on as "wandering aimlessly" and again bring up the notions of wasting time and missing opportunities.
To the extent that they still have power over their child, they may insist on forcing him back into the foreclosed identity or perhaps push him into another foreclosed identity. At worse, this greatly intensifies the child's misery, and at best, it merely postpones the arrival of the child's rebellion.
That is a shame. The value of a moratorium cannot be underestimated. While the child may indeed spend a year or two or more in menial jobs and always-changing activities, he should emerge from the moratorium with a clear sense of purpose in his life, a finely-tuned focus and what needs to be done, and a strong determination to get where he wants to go. This virtually guarantees he will experience high degrees of both happiness and success in the remainder of his life.
In his best-selling book, news anchor Tom Brokaw describes the accomplishments of what he calls The Greatest Generation. These were the people who in late adolescence and early adulthood fought and won World War II. In the years following, these folks managed to do a host of incredible things in science, medicine, politics, business, the arts, and every other area of human endeavor.
An analysis of their stories reveals that their ability to be the best was based on the fact that the war constituted an enforced moratorium.
When they weren't struggling to survive the hostilities, these people spent a lot of time sitting in foxholes with nothing to do but contemplate the major issues concerning themselves and their futures. And they would all cite those periods of intense reflection, exploration, and investigation as the vessels of the moments in which their lives gained meaning and direction.
I also can testify from personal experience. At the time of high school graduation, I was headed for a college and career path that had been selected for me by my parents and guidance counselor. But it didn't feel right to me. So I chose not to enroll in the university that had accepted me, and instead took a year off to "find myself."
I recall my mother and father being absolutely horrified as they watched me do everything from flipping burgers to selling encyclopedias door to door while my peers were steadily progressing toward law school, medical school, and MBAs.
However, when I emerged from my moratorium, I was fully focused and highly energized. I finished college in only three years, earned my doctorate shortly thereafter, and then went on to enjoy a highly successful professional career and a delightfully contented personal life.
Meanwhile, many of my peers ended up dropping out of college after a year or two, taking their moratorium at that point, and then starting all over again at a later date. In other words, as it turned out, by going with foreclosed identities, it was they who actually spent their initial freshman and sophomore years wandering aimlessly and wasting time.
So if your kid is approaching the end of his high school career and is expressing disinterest in college and/or is talking about enlisting in the military, joining the Peace Corps, or pursuing some other activity that is not part of "the plan," try to relax and be patient. Life is not a race. It is a process. And many times, making way for a moratorium ensures that the process goes smoothly and produces the best possible results in the long run.
Michael K. Meyerhoff, Ed.D., is executive director of The Epicenter Inc., "The Education for Parenthood Information Center," a family advisory and advocacy agency located in Lindenhurst, Illinois. His e-mail address is epicntrinc@aol.com.
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