While walking to the self-checkout at Walmart the other day, my son and I passed through an area that smelled very strongly of marijuana. Showing my age, I mentioned that it smelled like we had just walked through a Cheech and Chong movie. Of course, my son had no idea what I was talking about. But on the way home, he said, “You experimented with marijuana in high school, right?”
“Yes,” I answered. I told him that I had first smoked pot when I was 13 and had smoked it several times in high school. I never really liked it, I admitted, but my usage was born out of rebellion, like most of the things I did back then.
As a parent, my job is to keep my son safe
My son is a junior in high school and has not touched alcohol or other drugs. He has Asperger’s and is very frank and direct in his conversations, so I’m confident that he will tell me if he ever does. But with teenagers, things can change quickly.
As a parent, and particularly as the parent of a special-needs child, I consider it my number one job to keep my son safe. And part of that job is to help him make the right decisions. I’ve always tried to be honest with my son about my own past. To do otherwise, I believe, would be hypocritical. One thing I remember from my younger years is how much teenagers loathe a hypocrite. If you lie to your child and they find out, they’ll hold it against you forever. And they will find out, because teens sniff out lies like bloodhounds.
I made a lot of mistakes in my teenage years. Probably more than most kids. I’d like to use my experiences, good and bad, to help guide my son through his own turbulent teenage years. In fact, my mistakes and regrets are probably more valuable in this regard than the things I’m proud of.
I find it best to tell him the whole story. Not details – he doesn’t need to know the name of who I first got high with behind the gazebo before a junior high school dance. I just try to express my honest thoughts and opinions about what I’ve done and haven’t done.
I am honest with my son about my history with alcohol
I’ve been honest with him about my history with alcohol and what I’ve learned. Both of my parents were alcoholics. Alcoholism runs in our family, which puts him at greater risk of becoming dependent on it. He’s never seen me drunk. But for a lot of years, before I met my wife, I drank heavily.
As with marijuana, I started young, when I was around thirteen. When my son recently asked if I’ve ever had a hangover, I told him that I have had thousands of hangovers. He stared at me in surprise, and with some disappointment. Sometimes it’s difficult to sugarcoat the truth.
There are a lot of bad things that can happen from drinking. One night of drinking, one mistake, can change your life and the lives of others forever. But you can also have a lot of fun drinking. If it wasn’t fun, teenagers wouldn’t want to do it.
I explain how quickly alcohol pulled me in
When talking with my son, I make clear that I often had fun when drinking. And that’s what is so dangerous about it. I had lots of friends who drank, too. But they could take it or leave it. Just normal teenage experimentation. For me, I loved it from the first sip. Well, maybe not the first sip. It tasted awful. But alcohol pulled me in quickly.
He understands the risks as well as I do. Maybe better, because he spends a lot of time researching the impact of alcohol and other drugs on the brain. He plans to be a psychologist and it seems as though he is going to be very prepared.
He and my wife, who is currently pursuing a master’s degree in counseling, have long conversations about what drugs do to certain parts of the brain. They sometimes use me as an example. Not sure how I feel about that, but I suppose it’s nice of them to include me.
I don’t pretend to know everything. The information I’m giving him is more personal experience than facts gathered from research. Maybe my experiences can help him. I wish someone had taken me aside to give me an honest talk when I was younger. I wish I’d felt loved and confident enough to ask the difficult questions that most teenagers have. I can’t change the past, but I can try to change the future. My son’s future.
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Gary Sprague
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