Advice: Life Beyond High School

By Hara Estroff Marano

How do you get through to a high school senior who is suffering from senioritis (too much partying and beer, not enough exercise, not enough sleep). To his credit he is still doing fine in school as an A-B student. He has been encouraged to dig into his passions, but mostly this includes computer games and partying.

I'm not entirely sure it's possible to "get through" to a senior who has been quite responsible all along and fulfilled well the contemporary demands on high schoolers who are planning on continuing their education. The boy has accomplished what most families, schools, and cultures expect of high school seniors these days: to work hard to get good grades so they have a chance to get into a good college. This message is drilled into kids from early in their school career and reaches an inescapable fever pitch in high school. What's more, the fancier the neighborhood, the more the message is drilled into them from everyone and everything they encounter. Your son's college applications are in. Getting in is now completely out of his hands.

So the boy has reason to believe that he has done his share for God, country, and zip code. Small wonder he seems to feel entitled to let off a little steam, take all his pent-up pleasure needs and exercise them. What high schoolers have trouble grasping, despite a lifetime of hearing about college, is that there is life beyond high school. Life beyond high school remains a big hypothetical blur and the issues and crises that dot the high school experience seem to take up all the space in one's brain.

You are right to be concerned about the partying, getting high, the formless schedule—a certain tendency to go with the flow when the flow appears to be cascading downhill fairly rapidly. Significantly, your son's behavior has begun to interfere with the rights of others (late parties that disturb the neighbors, for example).

Indeed, it's time to intervene in some way. Cracking down harshly or delivering preachy sermons is not the way to do it—now or ever. It's admirable that you've been giving the boy some leeway, and perhaps that is the greatest leverage you have to mobilize his own sense of responsibility. You have been understanding and reasonable—and, I presume, you still are. You not only have the moral high ground here, you have a parental obligation to draw your son's attention to the actual and possible consequences of his current activities (for him, for the family, for the neighbors, and the local constabulary). No matter how vocally he might complain about you curbing the good times now rolling, your history of reasonableness will make it difficult for him to object in principle to what you might suggest.