The central point about which everything now revolves is the coming to maturity of the sexual system. It is as absurd as it is harmful to ignore the fact that this is primarily what the change means, and that with the physical power to become a parent there normally appears, either initially or with greatly increased force, the sex appetite. This is normally true of both boys and girls, though the forces that have gone to make our present civilization have, at least in many cases, made the physiological sense cry subordinate in the girl, and occasionally this is also true of the boy.
There is no period in the life of the human being when he so needs help in certain ways as now, and no time when it is so difficult to help him, as every youth now more than ever before affords an individual problem. One of the difficulties attending this period is the tendency to unsymmetrical growth. Oftentimes the body shoots up with amazing rapidity, this quick growth of bone and muscle drawing heavily on the whole system; parents recognize the condition by saying the child has outgrown his strength. He has often outgrown much more than this, for his intellect may not have been able to keep pace, and we not infrequently have the anomaly of an adult body with the mind of a child. No one is more conscious of this incongruity than the subject himself, whose anatomy seems to have run away with him. This rapid growth is generally marked by excessive development of some parts over others, so that the child becomes clumsy and awkward. If the subject is a boy, the sudden change in the size of his vocal chords often causes a distressing "breaking" of the voice which adds materially to the general sense of disharmony.
Those who have not experienced this sudden and unsymmetrical development can have little idea of the trials of the young soul going through it, a suffering so great that suicide is often seriously contemplated as the only solution. And all this turmoil is kept within the heart of the sufferer. To the outsider the boy, the girl, is merely "cranky" or "contrary." If not constantly nagged at and reproved for his awkwardness at home, he is sure to have it ridiculed by his schoolmates, particularly by those of the opposite sex. He cannot help being round-shouldered and loose-jointed, with protruding shoulder-blades and awkward motions; and the pathos of it is, he thinks he must always remain so, an ugly failure and a laughing-stock to the community. The effect this has upon him will depend upon his temperament. Very sensitive and fine natures often instinctively seek to cover the real trouble by exaggerating the defects in every way possible,—making believe they do it all on purpose, and acting the clown and the ruffian, giving way to the irritability natural to the condition with a sort of reckless despair which is sure to be misunderstood and censured by those he loves best. When this stage is reached, it is easy for him to imagine himself a social outcast, a useless encumbrance that nobody loves, a clumsy dolt that nobody likes to have about. Again he may become sullen, morose, resentful, and suspicious toward all about him. Or, a timid nature may become more timid, shrinking, weak of will, and despondent concerning life in general; or the subject may show an exaggerated egotism which seeks by sheer intrusion of self to force everything else aside.
In the course of a few years he grows out of these difficulties, but the suffering he underwent may have made such an impression upon his excessively sensitive nerve centres that he never entirely recovers from it, and may be controlled by it in ways he does not suspect all the rest of his life.
It is needless to say that a large part of this suffering could be averted by knowledge on the part of the parents and of other adults with whom the youth comes in contact, as well as on the part of the youth himself. What he most needs in his "awkward age" is sympathy, patience, firmness, and instruction, and his physical defects should never be ridiculed. Perhaps nothing is more helpful to youth at this stage than to have its vagaries treated seriously. Wonderful dreams of future glory and accomplishment, remarkable theories of the universe, astounding schemes for impossible inventions, new Utopias, wild adventures, and at times even questionable escapades are the natural and luxurious growth of the newly stimulated imagination. They do no harm, and are a safety valve which should be understood. Honest sympathy, where sympathy is merited, will give weight to warning and disapproval, which would have no weight at all if the whole fabric of the imagination, which is so real and so precious to the imaginer, were condemned without discrimination. These dreams of youth are often the real stuff out of which the fabric of life is later to be woven, taking new forms it may be, but getting their inception there. Some one has said that if the facts could be known, the thought germs whence finally came the steam engine and the electric telegraph were probably conceived in the brain of an adolescent; and we know that poets are born at that age.
Many of the dreams of the youth may seem fantastic and ridiculous, but if the adult can only remember that they are not so to the dreamer and that this is a phase through which he is passing,—a phase which in most cases will pass entirely, leaving only, so to speak, a glow behind,—he will be more sympathetic and thus more helpful. If he can also realize that these dreams of the youth are an expression on the highest plane of the creative instinct which is in a sense controlling his body, mind, and soul, these vagaries, far from being ridiculous, will be recognized as worthy of the deepest respect. Now, too, the parent who has won the full confidence of the child through confidential talks on sex matters can without difficulty instruct him in the meaning and control of the new forces that are at work upon him.
The whole subject now changes. It becomes personal, and his thoughts are clouded by new problems and by the imperious demands of the body. According to the nature, inheritance, and previous habits of the youth these demands assert themselves. And now is the time of greatest danger from ignorance. Even though the boy has been well taught up to this age, if he is cast adrift now on the turbulent sea of desire and allowed to gather information from the sources all too available, there may occur a split between the thought of his childhood on this subject and the thought of his adulthood. If he is not allowed to drift, however, but given a chart and compass, the knowledge he has already of how to sail his ship will enable him to make straight for the right port, which he will have a good chance of reaching, no matter how stormy the seas he may have to traverse. With the right knowledge now, the idea and the ideal of his childhood may become the idea and the ideal of his manhood. If the child's thought of the subject has been unworthy, the danger of forever enshrining a wrong image in the soul of the adult is greater, and the difficulty of placing there the right one is enhanced.
The outward signs of the girl's development are usually explained beforehand sufficiently to enable her properly to care for herself. It is unnecessary to add that this should always be done, as nothing is more unjust than to leave her in a state of ignorance where the natural expression of her maturity may fill her mind with fears which may affect her nervous system ever after, even if they do not lead her to do acts which may permanently impair her reproductive vitality, and injure her health in other ways. All that she needs to know about the proper care of her person should be told her in the most considerate yet explicit manner, as should whatever is told her upon any part of the subject. It is a mistake to be vague now. Whatever is told concerning the reproductive processes should be said with the greatest clearness, leaving no room for brooding and imagination. And here, too, the wise parent will take into account the phenomenon of desire, which, so far from being abnormal in the girl, is normal in the truest sense. It may not play an important part in her life at this time, and often it does not, but again it may. Nor is the girl of whom this latter is true in any sense less fine or less worthy; perhaps on the contrary she is the best product of her race. Nor should she be afraid or ashamed of her nature, but only helped to understand and take care of herself and of her powers.
With the youth at this period the changes that fit him for his new place in the world are generally ignored. He does not know what is normal and what abnormal in his physiological development, and is often the victim of groundless fears that use up his strength or send him in despair to seek assistance from the most easily available sources of information, those baleful writings and despicable quack practitioners everywhere soliciting and alarming youth, and whose career forms one of the saddest commentaries on the state of our civilization.
The young man should know the truth about himself. He should understand the vast range of the change that is taking place in him, and that no two individuals necessarily develop just alike, either physically or mentally; and he should understand what are its normal phenomena, and how without fear to recognize and control deviations from them. Many parents direct the boy to go at once to the family physician if he is troubled or puzzled in any way. A few moments' talk with a wise doctor may save much useless worry. The more nervous and sensitive the boy at this time the more likely he will be to suffer from imagined troubles, and the greater his danger of falling into real ones.