In the article “Why Raising an Adolescent is About Looking Past Your Child” by Ben Fulton, he explores the challenges and difficulties parents face while raising teenagers. He emphasizes that raising a teenager involves guiding the child through the wild teenage years and helping them through the more complex aspects of their development. Fulton starts by acknowledging that adolescence is a challenging time in life, filled with emotional ups and downs. In this moment of their lives, they are often adapting to changes in their identity, friends or relationships, and academic pressures. These transitions can often lead to misunderstandings between parents and their child. Fulton suggests that parents must find a way to focus beyond their child’s current behavior, but instead they should try to understand their challenges, dreams, and goals.
One of the key points Fulton makes is the importance of showing your child empathy. Parents need to remember that adolescents are still developing emotionally, physically, mentally, and psychologically. By putting themselves in their teenager’s shoes, parents can better understand the stress and confusion that comes with growing up. This understanding aids better communication and can strengthen the parent-child relationship. Fulton notes that recognizing their child’s individuality is crucial. Every teenager experiences adolescence differently, influenced by personality, social environment, and family dynamics.
Fulton emphasizes the importance of having patience with your child during this time. Parents may feel frustrated with their child’s behavior or choices, but it is important to remember that adolescence is a phase of experimenting and self-discovery. He suggests instead of reacting negatively to these actions, parents should view these opportunities as teaching moments for growth, Open conversations about mistakes can lead to valuable life lessons and help them learn to take accountability.
Adolescents are often trying to find their identity while managing the expectations of family, friends, teachers, and society. Parents can help their children navigate these pressures by creating a supportive open environment. By encouraging discussions about peer pressure and social dilemmas, we as parents can provide guidance that helps our children make mature decisions.
Lawrence Steinberg, an expert and author in adolescent development, provides insight that agrees well with Ben Fulton’s perspective on raising adolescents, Steinberg highlights the unique challenges, as well as opportunities, that arise during the teenage years. He states that this period is characterized by significant physical, emotional, and cognitive changes, which can create a sense of confusion and challenge for both teens and their parents (Steinberg, 2014). Fulton emphasizes that understanding these developmental changes is essential for effective parenting, and Steinberg’s research supports this by showing how parents must adapt their approaches as their children mature.
One of Steinberg’s main points is the importance of fostering independence in adolescents while still maintaining a strong support system. He notes that teenagers increasingly seek autonomy and are better equipped to make independent decisions (Steinberg, 2014). However, this desire for independence does not mean they do not need guidance. Fulton agrees, suggesting that parents should aim to promote open communication where their expectations are clearly expressed while also encouraging teens to express their thoughts and feelings. This approach builds a solid foundation of trust and understanding, allowing teenagers to feel secure as they navigate the difficulties of growing up.
Another important aspect discussed by Steinberg is the influence that peers have during adolescence. He points out that friends often play a critical role in shaping adolescents’ choices and behaviors (Steinberg, 2014). Fulton advocates for parental involvement in understanding their children’s social dynamics, which can help guide them toward positive choices. Steinberg’s research indicates that active parental participation can help mitigate negative peer influence, underscoring the importance of maintaining communication and connection (Steinberg, 2014). Together, both Steinberg and Fulton underscore the necessity for parents to remain engaged and supportive, which fosters resilience and prepares adolescents for the challenges they will face in adulthood. By prioritizing open dialogue and guidance, parents can help their teenagers develop the skills they need to thrive.
“Why Raising an Adolescent Is About Looking Past Your Child” by Ben Fulton highlights the notion that effective parenting is about understanding and supporting the adolescent as they transition into adulthood. By looking beyond their immediate actions and recognizing the broader context of their experiences, parents can foster a nurturing environment that allows teenagers to thrive. The article encourages empathy, communication, and patience, illustrating that the journey of raising an adolescent is not merely about managing behavior but instead about nurturing a healthy relationship that prepares them for the future, and can help guide them toward becoming confident and responsible adults.
REFERENCES
Fulton, Ben. “Why Raising an Adolescent Is About Looking Past Your Child.” The Common Reader, November 26, 2024, https://commonreader.wustl.edu/c/why-raising-an-adolescent-is-about-looking-past-your-child/.
Steinberg, Laurence. “Age of Opportunity: Lessons from the New Science of Adolescence.” (“Age of opportunity: Lessons from the new science of adolescence.”) Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014.
Month: March 2025
Reflection on Revision Process
At first the revision process felt like a wave of apprehension about sharing my work with others. Writing has always felt like a personal way to express myself, a piece of my thoughts and creativity. However, as I navigated through the peer review experience, I discovered that this vulnerability could lead to significant growth as a writer. Receiving feedback from my peer was where the revision process truly started. Her perspectives offered me insights that I had not considered.
In revisiting my work, I found myself going deeper into my description of my childhood memories. This was both challenging and rewarding. I spent what seemed like forever, reworking paragraphs, making sure that my sentences flowed and did not ramble on not making sense. Initially, I felt content with my first draft, believing that I had captured the essence of my memories. However, after receiving the peer feedback, I realized that while I had shared my feelings about family and tradition, I hadn’t fully immersed my readers in the specifics of my experiences.
I jumped back into my essay with a fresh perspective, focusing on the sensory details that could bring my narrative to life. I envisioned the kitchen not just as a backdrop, but as a heart of my family gatherings. I added descriptions of the vibrant odors of the spices, the sizzling sounds of the food cooking, and the warmth of the oven that seemed to wrap around us like a hug. These small touches transformed my writing, helping convey not only the atmosphere but also the emotions tied to those cherished moments.
This revision process taught me that writing is a journey. Each story I create has the potential to evolve and improve through reflection and the insights of others. I learned to appreciate the value of specificity and sensory details, understanding that they deepen the connection between the reader and my story. I will carry this knowledge with me, remembering that every revision brings me closer to expressing my ideas more clearly and effectively. As I continue my journey as a writer, I am grateful for the peer review experience that showed me these important lessons, reminding me that showing rather than telling can truly transform my stories into a vivid experience for my reader.
Essay 1 – Final Draft
Growing up in America, with summer vacations spent with family in Portugal was like Christmas all over for me as a child. My grandparents’ home was always filled with warmth, both from the love and the laughter that filled every room. I remember my Avó, Aida, in the kitchen, petite in size but huge in heart, preparing bacalhau (salted cod) for our arrival. The air was thick with the rich aromas of garlic and onions sizzling in olive oil, mingling perfectly with the fish scent of the cod. The smell of food filled every corner of the home, that is full of generations who had lived and worked the land every day to allow us to share this amazingly delicious meal together.
The kitchen was the soul of our home, a relatively small space decorated with rustic wooden cabinets and colorful hand-painted tiles that displayed art from our heritage and homeland. The large farmhouse table, built by my AvÔ, visibly worn from years of family gatherings, was always set with mismatched dishes, outflowing with delicious food that my Avó had lovingly prepared. It was here that we all reunited as family to share stories of the past year. My Avô, João, with his gentle nurturing soul, would sit by the door, gazing out into the garden, watching us kids play as if no time had passed. The sun beaming in through the window would cast a warm glow over the room, illuminating the smiling faces, creating a sense of love and togetherness.
Our family roots are deep in the soil of the Tras-dos-Montes region, where my grandparents, great-grandparents, and great-great-grandparents worked the land long before my time. The scorching summer days, filled with the sound of farm animals and tractors, would always seem to disappear with the vibrant glow of that amazing sunset behind the mountaintops. I would run across the fields with my cousins, playing hide-and-seek among the rows of corn, feeling the dirt under my feet and the sun on my skin. This land was not just a place, it was a living reminder of all we were and where we came from.
One of the greatest joys of vacationing in Portugal was the endless “festas” (festivals) that marked the days of summer. Each year, we would prepare for the Festa de Nossa Senhora, a local celebration in the village where we would walk in procession through the cobblestone streets, listening to the church bells ring, singing songs of prayer, and watching the colorful banners and beautiful statues make their way through the streets adorned with amazing local grown flowers. The whole village would gather, different families coming together to share in food, laughter, and dance. For us, it was a time to reconnect with distant relatives, to exchange stories of the year past, and to celebrate what it meant to be Portuguese and a family.
My parents taught me that family was not just about blood, it was about loyalty, love, and caring for one another. I remember many nights sitting with my mother, Isabel, as she knitted and watched her Novelas (TV soap operas) while she shared stories of her childhood, how she and her siblings would walk to school at an early age, how they were put to work in the fields from the time they learned to walk. But thorough hard work, dedication and preserving a fruitful life was born to flourish for years to come to spread among generations.
In Portugal, the sense of family extends far beyond the immediate. We were taught that even our neighbors were our family, a message rooted in the Aldeia, the small village where everyone knew each other’s names and stories. I grew up believing that to belong was to be a part of something larger than yourself, something that could not be broken by time or distance.
As I grew older, I realized my parents left Portugal in pursuit of opportunities abroad, but the pull of our homeland was always there, especially in the quiet moments when I would miss the sound of the cattle strolling by or the sight of the thickly settled mountains fading into the sunset. It was once I returned to Portugal after my grandparents had passed away, that I realized just how much I had inherited from this place without evening knowing- its quiet strength, its deep roots in tradition, and its unspoken values. Going back felt like reconnecting to a part of myself I had feared I lost. Sitting with my parents, feeling the warmth of the land and the heartbeat of the
family, I finally discovered that Portugal, its scenery, its people, its stories was a big part of making me who I am today.
Now, as I watched my own son run across those same fields of my childhood, I think of all the generations before me and the responsibility I feel to carry forward the traditions of my family. I taught him how to make Caldo Verde (kale soup), showed him how to gather grapes for the wine in the fall and told him stories of his great-grandparents. This is not just a collection of memories, it is a way to honor my past, to recognize the sacrifices my parents made for my sister and I and to preserve the value of family, culture, and love that have made me the woman I am today.
The kitchen was the soul of our home, a relatively small space decorated with rustic wooden cabinets and colorful hand-painted tiles that displayed art from our heritage and homeland. The large farmhouse table, built by my AvÔ, visibly worn from years of family gatherings, was always set with mismatched dishes, outflowing with delicious food that my Avó had lovingly prepared. It was here that we all reunited as family to share stories of the past year. My Avô, João, with his gentle nurturing soul, would sit by the door, gazing out into the garden, watching us kids play as if no time had passed. The sun beaming in through the window would cast a warm glow over the room, illuminating the smiling faces, creating a sense of love and togetherness.
Our family roots are deep in the soil of the Tras-dos-Montes region, where my grandparents, great-grandparents, and great-great-grandparents worked the land long before my time. The scorching summer days, filled with the sound of farm animals and tractors, would always seem to disappear with the vibrant glow of that amazing sunset behind the mountaintops. I would run across the fields with my cousins, playing hide-and-seek among the rows of corn, feeling the dirt under my feet and the sun on my skin. This land was not just a place, it was a living reminder of all we were and where we came from.
One of the greatest joys of vacationing in Portugal was the endless “festas” (festivals) that marked the days of summer. Each year, we would prepare for the Festa de Nossa Senhora, a local celebration in the village where we would walk in procession through the cobblestone streets, listening to the church bells ring, singing songs of prayer, and watching the colorful banners and beautiful statues make their way through the streets adorned with amazing local grown flowers. The whole village would gather, different families coming together to share in food, laughter, and dance. For us, it was a time to reconnect with distant relatives, to exchange stories of the year past, and to celebrate what it meant to be Portuguese and a family.
My parents taught me that family was not just about blood, it was about loyalty, love, and caring for one another. I remember many nights sitting with my mother, Isabel, as she knitted and watched her Novelas (TV soap operas) while she shared stories of her childhood, how she and her siblings would walk to school at an early age, how they were put to work in the fields from the time they learned to walk. But thorough hard work, dedication and preserving a fruitful life was born to flourish for years to come to spread among generations.
In Portugal, the sense of family extends far beyond the immediate. We were taught that even our neighbors were our family, a message rooted in the Aldeia, the small village where everyone knew each other’s names and stories. I grew up believing that to belong was to be a part of something larger than yourself, something that could not be broken by time or distance.
As I grew older, I realized my parents left Portugal in pursuit of opportunities abroad, but the pull of our homeland was always there, especially in the quiet moments when I would miss the sound of the cattle strolling by or the sight of the thickly settled mountains fading into the sunset. It was once I returned to Portugal after my grandparents had passed away, that I realized just how much I had inherited from this place without evening knowing- its quiet strength, its deep roots in tradition, and its unspoken values. Going back felt like reconnecting to a part of myself I had feared I lost. Sitting with my parents, feeling the warmth of the land and the heartbeat of the
family, I finally discovered that Portugal, its scenery, its people, its stories was a big part of making me who I am today.
Now, as I watched my own son run across those same fields of my childhood, I think of all the generations before me and the responsibility I feel to carry forward the traditions of my family. I taught him how to make Caldo Verde (kale soup), showed him how to gather grapes for the wine in the fall and told him stories of his great-grandparents. This is not just a collection of memories, it is a way to honor my past, to recognize the sacrifices my parents made for my sister and I and to preserve the value of family, culture, and love that have made me the woman I am today.