by Sahara Stirling

Created on: July 22, 2008

I see them now, the stereotypical teens. A boy and girl stand in front of me, giddy as they show off their new drivers' licenses to each other and trade quips about whose picture is worse. They carry backpacks, filled to the brim with heavy textbooks and other school supplies, perhaps some sweaty sportswear. Both are in a hurry to go home and take their first real drives, even if only to grab some groceries.

But... where are their homes? Are the teens going to houses, apartments, or perhaps boarding school dorm rooms, where their license will wait until they go home and can access cars? Are these teens peppy, depressed, or solely focused on school? Do they prefer video games or books? Are they dating or not? Are they gay or straight?

I don't believe there is a stereotypical teen. There is no archetype that we can all collectively remember aspiring to imitate. I was a different person in high school than I am now, though my experiences then surely shaped my present self. My brother changed drastically halfway through high school. My mother, well, she was still a child in high school, having skipped two grades early in elementary school!

I went to high school at an all-girls private school. My brother went to an all-boys Catholic school. My two stepsisters went to the same co-ed public high school. If we suspended time and all gathered as 16-year-olds to find common ground, I'm not so sure we would.

At 16, I did fit a stereotype: the depressed teenage goth. One look and you'd assume you had me figured out. But behind my long black hair and black clothes, what would you find? That I worked in a public library part-time? That I played bass in a band? That I worked with a small community theatre? That I was a straight-A student?

My brother, at 16, was the exact opposite of me. Though by then I was out of high school and had just moved to another city, I heard his stories, saw his photos, and knew my brother had finally become a happy, well-adjusted teenager with a great group of loyal friends. He was a joker, kind-hearted and fun-loving. Still, at 16, he had never been on a date or kissed a girl, and he didn't until he was 19. Regardless, looking at him as a happy 16-year-old who loved a good prank, would you see that he, too, was a good student? That he loved hockey but was secretly heartbroken that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make the varsity cut and was limited to intramurals? That he worked part-time as a dishwasher, despite the private school rich kid

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