Coming of Age

Peter L. Felton 02-28-2011
Prof. Tabachnikov ENG 101

COMING OF AGE

In literature there are many themes that we find over and over in many cultures and from many periods in time. One of these reoccurring themes is the “coming-of-age”, when a young person goes through the transition from childhood to adulthood and has a significant life experience. It is clear that these coming of age stories are crucial component of our self-conceptions and representations.
There are a lot of “coming-of-age” stories that we know. We’ve read them in books, seen them at the movies and on TV, and in plays. A young person confronts the terrifying idea of growing older, leaving youth for adulthood, and dealing with a world far more complicated than he or she had thought it was. Sure there is pain to be encountered along the way, but in most of these stories the person eventually sees maturity as a reward and painful growth as a passage into a new world filled with prospects and promise. I think when entering adulthood, instead of grieving over the loss of youth, we should revel in newfound possibilities. The “coming-of-age” story then is not a tragedy, but a heartwarming tale of growth and fulfillment.
One reason for the popularity of this theme is simply that it is a universal experience. Everyone, no matter when or where they were born, has to grow up at some point, and being able to read about someone else’s experience can provide young readers with something that they can relate to, and it provides older readers with memories of the past.
The teen years are when the coming-of-age process is most obvious, when young people are perched precariously on the brink between childhood and adult responsibilities. It is then that most young adults are making decisions, which will have tremendous influence on the shape of their lives to come. When I was about the age of four, I would wake up in the morning for school, brush my teeth and get washed up, and by the time I came out of the shower my clothes would be there for me to put on. My pants were always ironed, shirts always nice and crisp and everything matched. I never asked who did ironed my clothes or why. I just thought that was the way they were. What four years old would ever think of questioning it? I would go to the kitchen table and there would be a bowl of my favorite cereal waiting for me just waiting to be eaten. I wasn’t allowed to pour the milk myself so it would already have the right amount of milk poured in it. When I finished my breakfast I’d put my bowl in the sink but it would never be there when I came home. But this didn’t last too long. I was in fifth grade when I was about ten years old. In the few years that past I started to like the clothes that were picked out for me less and less, so I began to dress myself. But once I started to dress myself I realized that clothes aren’t always wrinkle-free before you put them on. There was this little machine called an iron that took them out. But since I was old enough to pick out my clothes, I automatically was old enough to have to iron them. And ever since I started to iron more and more responsibility came to me. I had to do chores and help fix things around the house with my dad. It was like an explosion of responsibility. As I grew older and hit my preteen stage I started hanging out with friends more and started to rebel. I wasn’t doing my chores, I was staying out later and later, and by the time I was 14 I stopped coming home every night. I was at the age where I could get a job and make my own money, so that is exactly what I did. By the time I was 16 me and my best friend had saved up enough money to move out together and get a small studio, so that’s exactly what we did. But we thought it was going to be all fun and games. We were hanging out with friends all the time, going to school when we wanted to, going to work and spending our money to get wasted when we weren’t at work. At the age of 16 we were living up until reality kicked in when we had to pay rent. I was making enough money to either pay bills or have fun, so I had to give up my fun and pay bills. It seemed like the older I got, the more I would have to take responsibility for my actions and the more responsibility I had. This is the stage when having my clothes picked out for me and having to do chores didn’t seem so bad. By the time I was 18, I was engaged to my high school sweetheart and we moved away to start a new life in Pennsylvania. But any where you move responsibility follows you. Not only was I paying rent, now I had utilities as well. Since I was older I was able to find a better paying job. I was making enough to keep the bills paid and there was always extra for leisure, but I was at work all the time so I rarely got to enjoy it. After a few years I decided to get rid of some of the “grown-up” responsibility and moving back home. In our own lives, we are constantly trying to find our place in the world and discover what our purpose here is. Now I am 21 and attending my first semester of college four years after I graduated high school. It is now that I realize that my “coming-of-age” started too early but it was by my choice, even though I don’t feel like I have fully transitioned to the next stage yet. There is one thing that I have learned in all these years and that is not regretting anything. We must learn from yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow, so that one day we can find where we belong.