Highlights of the Journey:
Reflections of Milton students on the growth of identity, cognition and judgment

Adults hope to see teenagers exhibit the best elements of adult behavior: predicting consequences, planning for the future, controlling negative impulses, appreciating nuance, understanding one’s self. Recent scientific advances are beginning to explain that development of these cognitive skills depends not only on genetic makeup and environment, but also on biology—the physiological development of the brain. While the specific interactions and the sequencing of events within this network of changes are still the subject of intense research, the truth is that teenagers experience an extensive reorganization of social, emotional and cognitive processes. A number of researchers pinpoint between eighth and eleventh grade as the time for the biggest shift in cognitive growth—advances in the connections between prefrontal lobe and other centers of brain activity.

Older Milton students, invited to talk about their progress over the last several years, agree. They detail changes or major refinements in their personalities, and can often point precisely to the time when the big shift occurred. Their views of the world are more complex; they apply a degree of self-awareness, humor and grace to their analyses that they admit was not present several years ago. Many are struggling with the concept of leadership and guiding younger students; they look back with keen insight and empathy at students who are earlier on the same track. Relation-ships have been and continue to be critically important, including the groupings and regroupings of friends that occur during high school; but they find that they now view others with more openness and appreciation for difference. They wrestle with expectations—their own, their parents’, their mentors’—acknowledging that they can set priorities now in ways they formerly could not. They can articulate general, long-range plans, plans that reckon with unique talents or inclinations they have recognized within themselves. While they note having outgrown certain dependencies and can articulate goals for the future, they are savvy about the abiding questions and challenges they confront as new members of the adult world.

I’ve changed

“As a senior you finally come in to your own—it’s a relief. As a senior, you are going to your own drumbeat; you’re not worried about stuff like where you fit in.

“During sophomore year I hardened up. I let things slide that shouldn’t bother me, and learned that it’s better to pick your battles. Going away [to a Milton semester-long program] helped, too. I’m stronger and more confident now; I developed self-reliance. I know how to think things through. Right now Milton seems to have been the right decision, but I do have a mix of hurts, anger and regrets.”

“I can see it [brain changes] happening. In Class IV, kids are trying to be someone they’re not, and it’s awkward. By the time they’re seniors, they’ve become a version of the person they were pretending to be. In my own case, my core personality traits are the same; I can identify with who I was, or see the roots, but parts of me are different. I’ve always been opinionated, for example, but now, even when something seems so obviously black or white, I know that issues are more complicated.

As a freshman, I may have expressed my opinions through abstract statements, but those statements were far more absolute than they would be now.

“I think the shift happens between sophomore and junior year. I can see around me that kids in my class have a new maturity. They see distinctions and nuances. Thesis statements for essays, for example, don’t have to argue for a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ The change is an intellectual thing and an emotional shift, too. We can see things more rationally now, even the points of view and the beliefs we don’t agree with. The change affects your relationships. In Class IV you’re thinking in terms of social cliques. When you’re working hard to understand yourself, it’s too hard to grasp another’s reality. Now I can separate from myself and understand another person. Seeing subtleties starts changing your worldviews; you can not justify your own or others’ actions in absolute terms anymore.

“You do need to see both sides of an issue, but you also have to find a balance. You need to understand enough about it in order to make a choice.”

Were you always this reflective? “No, I got reflective at Milton. I sit and think. But Milton students are practically preprofessional. They’re too focused on their academic identity. When I saw how Milton kids lead their lives—their drive for success, for straight As—I mellowed out. I’m motivated, but I pay attention to what’s important for the long run. You have to decide your own path. I’ve realized more of who I am at Milton because I’m forced to think about it. My identity is set: I want to be a person who is intellectual, athletic and sociable—in the sense that you reach out to people, and people respond to who you are.

“Earlier, I would judge people more quickly and put them in categories. Now I know I need to get to know people. Some people just have different goals. I’ve met some people who are very nice, but a couple of years ago I would have misjudged them; and others, who should have been friends because we have things in common like football and music, but we don’t click. Friendships are about deeper things, not just whether we have similar likes and dislikes.”

“I like to hang out, and have always hung out with kids society shuns. I step back and evaluate: ‘This kid’s being made fun of.’ Maybe it’s naïve, that some teenager always reacts when a kid may be made to feel badly, but that’s what I care about.
“Milton has shown me an environment, though, where people can be comfortable with who they are. Seeing that there’s a place where you can be who you are made me see that society isn’t necessarily so horrible.”

“When you see younger kids—say seventh grade through ninth grade—you want to ask, ‘Did you lose yourself?’ They are saying ‘that’s me’ and I want to say to them, ‘that’s not you.’ They even sound lost. But they get there. Right now I question myself all the time, to make sure I stay in touch with who I am.
“My parents’ expectations are very clear. Their expectations are for me to set my own expectations, to take responsibility. We agree on that goal; I have to find the steps. If I fall five times on the way, that’s okay, as long as I get up. I have a lot going on: I’m an athlete, I’m involved in my community, and I commute more than an hour every day. My focus is on managing my schoolwork.”

“When you are 13 or 14 you have no idea what’s going to happen to you in the next few years. Imagining yourself as an adult, you think only about career choices. When I was younger, my thinking was more linear: I thought of going from high school to college to a job to a promotion. Now I’ve learned that there other things that are important, besides the commitment to school and classes—having a conversation about what is happening in the world, for instance. We know more people because of the Internet, etc., but we’re less connected to each other. So having an important conversation with someone makes me think, ‘I’m going to be late for where I’m supposed to be, but this is something I’ll take with me.’ It’s difficult to evaluate priorities correctly. And even as an adult, to assume that my own logic and point of view was reliably right would be arrogant. It’s important to know all the perspectives. Last year this happened, that I realized that. If I’m arguing with you, even a point where what’s right seems obvious, you may convince me if your evidence is good. Others have their beliefs, and their beliefs are based on something. It’s so hard to say what’s right sometimes.”

“As a freshman, I found Milton so different from my old school that even though I had never thought of myself as quiet, or shy, I was, here. It didn’t help that a program before school started connected me with a group of kids that became my only real group of friends. That meant I didn’t have to get to know anyone else. But the greatest change happened in sophomore year: Things just clicked in. I made different and better connections with other students, and had a new understanding about differences among people. My self-confidence grew, so that I said to myself, ‘Why don’t I just go for it?’ I joined things and ran for office and kept growing from that point.”

A smooth ride?

Growing up has never been simple. Many teenagers at Milton encounter daunting cultural or socioeconomic differences; others experience the disorientation of geographical change. Typical challenges include the constant effort to connect with others, the pain of disciplinary mistakes, the specter of illness or disability, the enduring burden of expectations: the School’s, their parents’, their own. Adolescents’ experiences, according to many neuroscientists, have fundamental shaping power during this “exuberant” period of brain restructuring. Milton seniors’ comments below outline what needs they feel along the road, what motivates them, what adults or friends do that help or hinder.

In 14 extensive interviews, certain themes were nearly unanimous. Teenagers hunger for respect and spot it (or its absence) instantly. They ask to be seen at once as an adult (a peer) and a child. Being seen by a trusted adult as a person with “potential” (their word) is powerfully motivating. They acknowledge and appreciate patient listeners, people who share themselves, and people who empathize well enough to know inherently what teenagers need—expressed or not. People who care enough to hold them to high expectations—or help them erase personal boundaries—earn praise, along with people who help them toe the line without judging them or nagging. Friendships, places, events and opportunities outside of class serve crucial needs.

The environment

“There are such extraordinary friendships in the dorms—with students and with faculty. The support there is tangible. Dorm life slows you down, centers you. It’s easier to be vulnerable in the dorm (and you need a place where you can be vulnerable); everyone is vulnerable there.”

“The way adults communicate sends messages about respect. The ‘we need to move on’ theory doesn’t respect me as a student leader. I was so disappointed with that.”

“I listen to people’s stories; it’s through their stories that we really learn about them. Milton at its best is kids’ willingness to share themselves with others. They extend themselves; I appreciate that.”

“I wrote an essay about how you have to put yourself together for increased physical presence—like birds or animals get puffed up? If you’re rich, money does that for you. Rich kids don’t need to do this.”

“I think if kids sense an adult is in their corner, they’re receptive and responsive. My dorm head, for instance, is someone who has a way of checking up on me—moving me to get things done without nagging. He’s kept me on the ball; he’s the first one to come to me if he thinks I’m having a problem.”

“People especially important to me have been supportive, accessible, and they’ve listened. My dorm parent talked with me one time for four straight hours. He said he didn’t want to quit until we were on the same page.”

“My coach reminds me of people I know at home: I’m not intimidated by talking in my face—he’s direct and straightforward. I am more comfortable if you show me you’re confident. If you’re not confident, I worry about you as a person.”

“When I was a freshman and adjusting to being at boarding school far away and to whole new academic standards, my English teacher saw something in me; I responded to that. It was the seniors, though, who were what I aspired to be. They would sneak down to talk to me at night after lights out, they were inclusive, they wanted to be friends with ‘the little guy’—and these guys were varsity athletes, and performers, and musicians and writers. Now the younger kids are looking up to us.

“The people I really learned from were the guys I worked with during the summer. They were a maintenance crew—I didn’t let on that I was a prep school guy—but working with them every day, we became great friends. I learned so much about respect this way.”

“I’m really so self-absorbed. We’re all so entitled. We think we’re doing a good thing when we’re doing our homework. That’s for yourself.”

“My experiences in the last few years helped erase boundaries that existed at home: like between being an athlete and being serious about art.”

Outlets

“I love to play with my teammates. It was always hard work; we never gave up; we depended on each other and communicated in special ways with one another. It was my favorite place to be a leader. I respected them and they looked up to me.”

“I love the outdoor program stuff because the activities are challenging, but you go at your own pace. It’s a totally different way to relate to adults: they’re older, they’re the experts, but there’s no reason to be formal, and we have to trust each other.”

“I’ve gotten interested in photography: through photography you develop your eye for life. It’s kind of a metaphor for your point of view. You can limit yourself and take a deeper look, you can cut things out, you can bring things in.”

Teachers

“My best teachers have looked at me as someone with potential; that gave me confidence. They know what I’ve been trying to say and they help me say it. They’re offering to teach me something and they’re open to me—they’re even willing to learn something from me.

“My football coach has been important to me: He’s a straightforward guy. We connect because football really matters. He’s committed, and I am, too. He’s at my back and at my side, all the time.”

“This teacher showed me what I could do. He gave me the tools. He made every kid feel special—that they had great potential. He helped you learn how to express yourself. He has a gift, and he saw that I have that gift, too—of reaching reticent, vulnerable kids. He allowed me to use that gift in class. He knows what each person in the class has to offer. He lets you know that your voice matters, that he respects you.”
(About a teacher) “I was young, and immature, and perhaps expected more from her than was fair. She asked for my help with another student and I gave her that. She said she respected me, but it didn’t feel like she did. Finally, this year I realized I had grown past needing her. It was a relief to know that I didn’t depend on her.”

“You can feel his support, his presence for you, his confidence in you. You know he’ll be there for you; he’s loving of everyone. I can talk with him about my feelings and worries, and he gives great advice.”

“She was probably the reason I stayed around, freshman year. She was supportive but tough, old-fashioned, you could count on her. She was hard on you, but I needed that and I could tell it was because she cared about me.”

“The person who mattered most to me had a way of making himself seem not superior, but a friend. He was able to help people when they didn’t really even say they needed help. He had a perception of what we were going through (that is, growing up) and didn’t lose sight of what was happy in our lives.

“I respond to people who have a childish spark, who remember that they were once young, and that it’s necessary for us to have fun.”

“The person who affected me the most was a teacher and a friend. I felt rewarded by him, for the way I thought, or read. I felt empowered.”

Parents

“They were driving the car and I was in the back seat; now I’m driving.”

That teenagers count on their parents is no surprise. However, during this period when impulse control is less than reliable and consequential thinking is only just coming within reach, parents typically hope for more impact on teenagers’ lives than teenagers allow. Brain development supports survival skills at this time: the need to establish independence, to separate, to seek out the new. At the same time, a brain that is transforming itself so significantly is exceptionally open and vulnerable, hence parents’ desire to control teenagers’ exposure and experiences. The tension is ancient. Seniors at Milton have typically reached the point of frontal lobe development that enables them to articulate the “big picture,” refined concepts of their parents’ roles and their values.

Milton students see parents as part of their journey. They witness changes in their parents as they do in themselves. Parents have figured greatly as sounding boards, and as reliable advocates. Their expectations, however, are often a key tension and source of stress for teenagers. Knowing more about who you are, and what you hope to find in the next stage of education and life, means you now may need to move parents from a position they’ve held throughout high school, or maybe longer. As for parents’ personalities, don’t doubt for a minute that teenagers have analyzed parents’ traits.

“I see this in my father and that in my mother,” they often say, and “as an adult I’d like this combination of attributes— and I’ll leave these other aspects of my parents behind.”

“I got closer to my parents when I left. Maybe now that I’m older there are more things for us to talk about, or maybe not seeing them as much makes me appreciate them more. This year, things are different. They are more open to my doing what I want to do. They realize that I am my own person.”

“My parents have given me the sense that they will support my decisions. They let me know they believe I’m ready to make decisions. They show their confidence in me and they’re proud of how I’ve changed and grown, and of who I am.”

“My parents expect an Ivy League school, and I don’t know how realistic that is for me. Not only are my chances of getting in questionable, but I’m asking whether it would be the right place for me. You have the sense that you owe it to them—who you are directly results from the situation they put you in—but you do become your own person.”

“My mom is compassionate, organized and bilingual (which I want to be). My dad is wise, experienced, a good listener, and a real presence in a room. People want to hear what he has to say. My family has helped me set my own goals.”

“My dad has worked very hard his whole life. He’s proud that I’m at Milton, and he has very high expectations. He wants me to know that this is a great opportunity and it’s my responsibility to make the absolute most of it.”

“My parents don’t beat around the bush. They make their expectations clear, and I don’t call a whole lot of shots.”

“My dad (a doctor) is quiet and reserved; has the immigrant work ethic. He has the sense that by doing well in school, by trying your best and working hard, you can get what you want. He both pushes me and helps me. I work like he does, and I’m a perfectionist. I want to carry on his values, but not the way that he does. I want more balance.”

“I really relied on my parents when I was far away and had lots of challenging transitions. They helped me—almost every day in the beginning—in the struggle to get my feet on the ground; they just wanted me to be happy and I could count on them for reliable support. Both my parents work a ton. They’re really involved in their work. That seems like a fuller life to me than using money just to play hard. They’ve blended together work and family and balanced them.”

Stretching for the horizon

Speaking of abstract concepts, what about dreams for the future? The cognitive development that occurs during adolescence has been tied to frontal lobe changes that appear on brain scans over those years. “The job of the frontal lobe, Dan Keating of Emory University has been quoted in Primal Teen as saying, “is to integrate the social, emotional and intellectual ramifications of things.” Milton seniors have apparently reached the level of maturity that involves wrestling with concepts of self and society. They are thinking far more broadly than their immediate self-interest, the focus of younger teenagers.

To a person, Milton seniors fervently want, as adults, to understand people, connect with people, help people. Does that goal relate to having recently discovered how complex and interesting people are? Does it relate to the teachers they admire, whose skill is in making connections? They hold the tender hope that they will not compromise themselves. They speak of balance in their lives. They are also clear about what adult characteristics have been disappointing to them. In short, they are planning—a newly developed area of expertise.

“When I was 13 or 14, I thought I would go into finance, like my brothers and father. Now I’m not sure. I have dreams, and a deeper appreciation of things I had not fully tried before, and while I know I need to be realistic, I may need to do something more unconventional, riskier. I’ve made some challenging changes, and change, while hard, is important. I’m glad I did; I’m not sure I made the transition all that well, or that it is finished (I’m still finding that out), but after having worked through this much, the rest will be easier: I have the basic steps, now.”

“I don’t like it when adults tell us how to live our lives, that you should act on what you believe, and then they don’t follow through themselves.”

“The most important thing to me is my integrity. I want to be true to myself, not caught up in those things that are prevalent in society, like greed, mainly. I can’t get caught up in small things.

“I was very disappointed by an adult who didn’t want to get involved in a project for intellectually delayed children, but used a roundabout way of telling me ‘they’ weren’t interested. Why wouldn’t someone want to further a child’s development, or even her own?

“I find it difficult when adults, who have all this time to develop opinions, and to think of all the questions—and all the answers—dominate the discussion. There’s no room to develop other opinions.”

“In the future, I would like to help people. I’m skeptical, though, about whether I’ll be able to follow through. Actually, I would like to be a writer.

“Zadie Smith (young prizewinning British novelist who spoke at Milton) really inspired me. What she said was eloquent. She knew who she was and what she liked and disliked. She was not afraid of criticism. She was down to earth, honest, humorous, and had an aura—a real presence.”

“It’s upsetting to me when adults look to fulfill kids’ sense of entitlement, the ‘what more can I do for you’ approach.

“There are many things I’d like to study that I haven’t yet. My dad’s an anthropologist, for example, and I like asking those questions.

“I’ve had to get past the idea that some people at home haven’t had the same opportunities I’ve had. I had trouble with that idea. Milton has certain expectations of me, and I wanted to help set higher expectations for others. Now I know that you have to focus on your own stuff—and then you can get back and help.”

“What’s important to me is to be able to understand other people, to make real connections, to understand myself and be happy—find emotional and intellectual achievement. When I look back, moments that were most important to me were moments of emotion that were real. Times I truly regret were not sad times, but times when I had deadened my emotion. I don’t necessarily want to be happy all the time, I want to explore the limits and the ranges of experience: to live a life in which you feel things, for real.”

Cathleen Everett

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