Yes, I Wasn’t: A Ballad

“Don’t you talk back to me.”

These words (or any variation of them), spoken in any language, have probably been heard by the majority of hot-blooded teenagers roaming the planet. I’ve heard them spoken in harsh whispers—this delivery is usually most effective by parents reluctant to cause a scene—and in behemoth tones within the comforting walls of my own home.
Needless to say, our responses instantly switch to a defensive tone and the exchange of heated banter ensues. As volumes rise so does blood pressure and you can say goodbye to lunch money for the rest of the week.
Shortly after these bouts of ‘yes you were’ and ‘no I wasn’t’ are over, it feels as though parents automatically resort to labeling their child as going through that hormone induced ‘teenage rebellion’ phase, and it’s time to take the locks off their bedroom doors.
Either that, or their little angel is using hard drugs in between study breaks.
Yes, it’s true that among us there are little hell-raisers and those who live for the thrill of arguing, but I attribute this to more of an act of self-realization rather than a case of teenage disgruntlement.
Please allow me to elaborate.
At this time in our lives, we are barely scraping the surface of what it means to be independent. We are now pumping our own gas, preparing to move out/go to college, piercing things and—hopefully—by now we’ve established our own bedtimes.
When you really stop to think about the fact that this is your life and you are living it at this very moment, it’s difficult to willingly let someone dictate what you do, even if that someone changed your diapers back in the day.
Is it selfish to start thinking more about yourself? Am I being self-centered and deranged by the pressures of life, so much so that my normally cool as a cucumber composure is failing me?!
I hope I’m not alone in my revelation that my attitude isn’t changing, like my parents say, but that I am.

Victoria Gavia,
Copy Editor