Parenting Insights
It was a warm spring evening in 2010 when my daughter, Emily, and I found ourselves in Seattle, attending a vibrant pop culture convention. At nearly 14 years old, she was on the brink of adolescence, experiencing changes that both excited and bewildered her—much like every teen at this stage.
To bridge the generational gap, I allowed her to use my phone, a privilege that came with its challenges. My wife and I had decided against giving her a personal phone, making us seem like the villains in her quest for teenage freedom. Emily skillfully maneuvered my phone, texting and walking simultaneously, a skill that impressed me.
We had hoped this trip would help Emily disconnect from her tight-knit group of friends. It felt as though we were reconnecting; she listened intently as I presented my paper on pop culture phenomena. For those 18 minutes, her focus was on me, and I didn’t catch a glimpse of her thumbs moving across the screen.
After my talk, we enjoyed coffee and took a ride on the historic trolley to a local bookstore. I shared stories about the Beat Generation, introducing her to the likes of Allen Ginsberg and Lawrence Ferlinghetti. I bought her a copy of Howl, hoping it would spark a shared interest in literature. Later, at a nearby bar and grill, I let her sip my beer—just enough to feel a light buzz and share some laughs.
As we strolled into a local music store, I noticed she was back on my phone, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she was texting. Was it about the enjoyable time we were having or something else entirely? “You should buy that record,” she suggested, pointing out a Bloc Party album, and I went ahead with the purchase, hoping it might make me seem a bit cooler in her eyes.
On our last night, I surprised her with tickets to see The Black Crowes at the legendary Fillmore. I had long dreamed of visiting this historic venue, a mecca for music lovers. As we entered, I shared anecdotes about the great artists who had graced the stage, hoping some of that history would resonate with her.
Standing amidst the energetic crowd, I found myself shielding her from a nearby concertgoer who had lit a joint. “You can smoke if you want to. It’s all right,” she said, catching me off guard. I politely declined, reflecting on how my choices might shape her perception of me. Would she see me as cool or just another aging parent trying too hard?
As the intermission approached, fatigue set in. We decided to leave early, and I pondered her earlier comment. Had she merely been guessing, or was there a deeper understanding at play? These reflections lingered during our flight home, making me question whether I ever wanted to be the type of dad who would indulge in such experiences with his children.
Fast forward to a chilly Saturday night in 2015, and I found myself at a Black Keys concert with Emily once again. The unmistakable smell of smoke wafted through the air, and we exchanged knowing smiles. She stood the entire time, fully immersed in the music, while I settled into my seat, grateful to share this moment with her. After the show, I returned home to my wife, while Emily ventured off to meet her friends, straddling both childhood and adolescence.
In navigating these experiences, I recognized the delicate balance of parenting a teenager—allowing them independence while also cherishing the moments we have together. Concerts can be more than just performances; they are opportunities for connection, growth, and understanding.
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In summary, attending concerts with your teenage daughter can serve as a valuable opportunity to bond, reflect, and understand the ever-changing dynamics of your relationship.