Adolescents, Angst, and the Arts
I confess to having been an angsty teen. My own adolescence initially pushed me far away from teaching that age group, because, yikes, not only are they taller than me but also tend to be emotionally prickly. The laws of physics suggest that for every force there is an equal and opposite force; in my case, the more I pushed away from adolescents, the stronger the pull toward them actually became. So here I am, teaching middle school science and language arts.
Yes, they can be prickly. But they are also tender and dear. Montessorians consider adolescence and early childhood to be parallel planes of development. They share similarities in their chaotic, creative, ever-changing energies. Brains and bodies are shifting at a rapid pace, and the dysregulation that comes with constantly navigating that transition leaves toddlers and teens in tears. They need us to love them, to lean in more closely, to whisper: “You’re not alone.” They need us to open pathways for expressing their internal worlds safely.
This is why adolescence and the arts go hand in hand. Unrequited love? There’s a poem, or two, or ten thousand, for that. To be human is to yearn, celebrate, mourn, rage, and love. For an adolescent, being presented with the language, the music, the movement, or the image that somehow captures the messy ball of feelings inside reminds them that they are part of the grand story of humankind.
They add to this story with their own work. Our middle school poetry unit reliably receives eyerolls, avoidance, and discontented sighs. It also happens to be my favorite. During those weeks, students discover how much power a person can wield with just a few well-chosen words. They realize that writing dark, broody imagery isn’t a phase but timeless artistic tradition. For a moment, they shrug off the coat of cool and aloof. They perform love poems, giggling, embarrassed, delighted. They don’t just write, they gush with an openness that no other unit seems to unlock.
Maria Montessori identified culture, music, and the arts as fundamental spiritual needs for humankind. We thrive in settings that empower us to create, connect, and tell our story. So, yes! Teach Shakespeare to all the teens! Sing very loudly in the car! Keep your own angsty diary! Dance, a lot! Pick up your paintbrushes again! These are the stories of humanity unfolding before us. What an honor to witness them.
-Adrienne Baker, Middle School Guide