As a teen often in trouble it was the last thing in the world to want my parents made aware of my nefarious scheming and activities. I spent some of my earlier teen years following a loose code of conduct that involved a transfer of ownership' believing all was fair so long as I did not get caught yet two occasions stay in my mind to this day some 35 years later that serve illustrate a fundamental difference between parents of my generation as a child and consequences that seem absent today.
At the age of 12 on a hot day with no money, ice creams in a handy freezer of a local shop seemed easy for the taking however several steps outside the door a great hairy hand grabbed me roughly by the shoulder, I was turned around to face an angry Italian shopkeeper. "You gonna' pay for those ice creams boy?" he demanded. "What ice creams?" I retorted thinking this guy was too stupid to know I had several secreted under my shirt. "THOSE ice creams!" he said as he gave a firm blow to mash the now sticky substance across my chest and the evidence soon began dripping down the front of my shorts. I was made to clean out the back store room for a good two hours then sent home with instructions to make sure "you tell your momma now boy and don't let me catch you again!" Stupid as I was for taking them in the first place, I was not THAT stupid my parents would have no doubt punishment me far worse (or so I thought at the time).
A second (and last) occasion I was caught was at our local swimming pool shop where my name and details were recorded as I was unceremoniously booted out of the pool grounds. Promising someone would be dropping by that evening to have a chat with my parents the remaining day was very long and miserable. I knew I was doomed once my father was told but I was not about to hasten the event and so I waited in quite terror for the inevitable.
For the next week I jumped up at every light in the driveway expecting a knock on the door that fortunately for me never eventuated. Thinking back today I could not think of a worse punishment this had me on edge for over a week in fear of the trouble I would be in and it is clear the shop proprietors fully understood this and had no intention of bothering my parents. The punishment was fear of consequences and quite a long time to think things over waiting for the hammer to fall.
Fast-forward to the 21st century and no child can ever do wrong, so it would seem. Very few parents today believe or will even admit the possibility their child might just be a whole load of trouble and by the time children reach their early teen years they know far more about their rights' than their responsibilities moreover there seem to be few consequences no matter how bad the behaviour. I read in a recent weekend paper of two 16yo teens caught damaging several vehicles in a car park to the tune of many thousands of dollars. They were given a caution; no fine, no probation, no good behaviour bond a caution!
Teens in schools hold less and less respect for the authority of teachers and even go as far as open threats. Talking with teachers today is a story of horror. In a recent discussion with a teacher she relayed her experiences with a spiteful vindictive child making several baseless allegation that resulted in immediate suspension for some weeks while an investigation was conducted. The child was found to be lying and the teacher was reinstated but the damage was done and the incident recorded. Parents that were clearly oblivious as to the true nature of their child, or who took protection to the extreme limit of reason and common sense in this case instigated the action.
If a teen has done wrong and consequences are minimal or nil what message is this reinforcing for life as an adult? Prisons are filling fast with young adults wondering how they found themselves in their predicament and one common theme underpinning almost three generations now is a clear inability to accept responsibility for one's actions. It is always someone else's' fault and parents today reinforce this being overly protective to the detriment of their children and one casualty is truth.
As an epilogue to the ice cream story: Many years of shopping in this particular convenience store were a living nightmare memory fearing that one day the shop keeper who knew my parents quite well would mention my little indiscretion'. Aged 21 and several years after joining the military I entered the shop with my mother one day, the aging Italian once again, as he had done hundreds of times since the incident, patted me on the shoulder and said to my mother he's a "gooda" boy that one' my eyes stayed fixed to the ground as usual.
Here is the real insult: shortly before my father passed away we sat in a bar having a quiet drink reflecting on many things when he let me in on the fact he knew all about the ice cream incident. He told me he was happy the shopkeeper made me work to pay for the ice creams and Dad knew quite well the effect of not wanting him to know was having on me. Oh life is so unfair sometimes!