Friday, May 3, 2013

How do we help kids find their identities?

Every adolescent wonders, “Who am I?” Until they ask that question, they’re not really adolescents, not in a social-emotional sense. Identity is an anchor in our lives. What we do, how we behave, who we associate with, and what we value are all functions of what we say and believe about ourselves – who we are. The Search Institute says carving out an identity is one of the four key developmental tasks that all adolescents face.

What do Christians and Christianity have to offer preteens and early adolescents as they begin this journey of finding their identity? To begin with, let’s consider some pitfalls. In the 1960s, James Marcia famously identified four identity statuses. Kids in a state of identity diffusion had made no commitments as to who they were; the question wasn’t even on their radar screen, or they weren’t sufficiently bothered by it to act. Kids who were identity foreclosed had an assigned identity, but it wasn’t freely chosen. As a result, they hadn’t gone through the process of determining their own values and priorities. Kids who were in identity moratorium were wading through the classic “identity crisis”. Their values and interests might shift often as they jumped from one identity to another, looking for the right “fit”. Finally, kids who were identity achieved were those who had resolved the search for an identity and settled on one set of values and priorities and a future path that was relatively stable.

In brief, the four statuses can be summarized this way:
·      An Identity Diffused kid says, “I am…huh?”
·      An Identity Foreclosed kid says, “I am who others say I am.”
·      An Identity Moratorium kid says, “I am this” but secretly adds, “…maybe. But I might actually be this. I don’t know yet.”
·      An Identity Achieved kid says, “This is who I am.”

Identity formation matters because it lays the groundwork for the successful forging of intimate relationships. Quite simply, if I do not know who I am, how am I going to find close friends who complement that? If I cannot articulate and project an identity, how will others know if I am a match for them?

That’s why Erik Erikson, the American developmental psychologist, pegged identity vs. role confusion as one of his eight stages of psychosocial development, the one that specifically pertained to adolescence. Erikson theorized that we either achieve a solid identity during our teenage years, or we continue searching well into adulthood until we find one. And until we have it, we won't be able to settle into close, long-term relationships, such as marriage. The opposite is also true: prior to adolescence, it is neither developmentally imperative nor appropriate for kids to be locked into an identity. Kids under 11 aren’t generally worried about who they are in relation to the rest of the world. They’re kids, and they’re living a childhood that should be full of freedom: the freedom to try all kinds of things and either succeed or fail, the freedom to make friends with all types of kids, and the freedom to be without caving to the intense pressures to conform that they’ll face in adolescence.

That’s why too-early specialization is harmful for kids. You’re placing all of the identity eggs in one basket. A girl seems headed for stardom in basketball at age 12; if by 15 she’s burned out or injured, what’s left to fall back on? Now, I wouldn’t deny a boy or girl the opportunity to pour a lot of time into something they were passionate about: insisting that kids be “well-rounded” can divide their time and attention too much, so that they never have whole days to build models or play Legos or explore the library or discover art. Diving headlong into a new interest will open up doors to other interests, so parents should encourage it. (Within reason: buying a $300 guitar for a beginner is overboard when the $60 model will do.) But just as it’s dismaying to see kids who do “one thing” and only that thing too early, it also kills me to see kids who believe (because they’ve been told) that they can’t play baseball at age ten because they’re “not a baseball player”. That’s an inverse kind of identity foreclosure, happening even before the search for an identity has begun, and it is wrong. Let kids discover what they “aren’t” on their own. The world will be more than happy to reject them when they’re teenagers. They don’t need our help.

Here again, it’s helpful to remember how identity plays into relationships. Young kids (under age 11) generally are interested in the value of the activity: is it fun, and is it interesting? If it is, they want it. And every other kid who wants the same thing can be their “friend", because friends are people who share common interests. But from middle school-on, self-awareness dictates what I do. If it’s not “me”, I don’t do that. And neither do my friends. We share agreement about what works and what doesn’t, what’s cool vs. uncool. Friendships now have the potential to go deeper, because they’re based on compatibility (assuming that each person is putting forward a true self, and not a false self).

We see this shift in 4th-6th grade ministry. If we have a special event, 4th and 5th graders will ask, “What are we going to do there?” If it sounds fun, they’re in. But a 6th grader will ask, “Who else is going to be there?” If, as a 6th grader, I identify with the “they” who are going, I’ll probably join. If not, I probably won’t.

At our church’s preschool, they sometimes dress up in costumes. Or they turn music on outside and the kids dance. Can you imagine a preschooler refusing, saying, “I don’t dance.” Unthinkable! What do they mean, “they don’t dance”? Can they move their arms and legs, or bob their head? Then they can dance. But we understand perfectly well what it means when an adult says, “I don’t dance.” It means, actually, that they won’t dance because, well, it’s not them. This is a matter of identity. And when people who “don’t dance” suddenly break into dance, like at an office Christmas party, we’re shocked. Why? Because that’s not “like them.”

That’s not to say that young kids are completely amorphous and it does not mean you can make any kid into any thing (a corruption of the understanding of the role of nurture). Certainly we can classify kids as “quiet” or “high energy” or “artistic” or “athletic”. But design and later-chosen identity are not always the same thing, and this is key! My identity reflects the group I identify with. It’s the type of person I say I am, because deep down, it’s the type of person I want myself to be. The more this reflects who I actually am, the more integrity I have. Wearing the left shoe on your right foot won’t change that right foot. It’ll just give you sore feet.

So in one sense, achieving one’s identity is a narrowing: while you are saying yes to one thing, you are saying no to so many others. But in another sense, it is freeing, because no one can possibly be all things to all people. Achieving identity is becoming who you are and agreeing with it.

As kids enter this stage of forming an identity, what can parents and other caring adults do to help them? Here are some points to consider:

1. Christians don’t believe people are blank slates. Instead, while not denying the influence of environment, Christians believe that certain aspects of character are hard-wired into our design, and they are intentional. Nurture is not a process of adding components (as if building the perfect robot), but bringing forth and developing the strengths that God has given someone.

2. It’s essential that kids, when they are young, be allowed to try all kinds of things. That’s how they’ll discover not only what they’re good at, but also what they enjoy. They’re not always the same thing; I was a terrible golfer, but something felt good about being on a course and walking nine holes. I kept score, but it wasn’t the main reason I played. Put me in a tournament situation and I’d fall apart. Likewise, we who supervise kids’ involvement in activities must remember that, developmentally, the point is not to win, the point is to live. Keep score because that’s how games are played, but celebrate the effort and the process, rather than overemphasizing the outcome.

3. We can do great harm to young people when we choose their identities for them. It won’t work. In the short term, it might – but they’re just wearing someone else’s haircut. Remember that the refrain of an identity-foreclosed kid (sometimes unconsciously) is, “I am who others say I am.” Either they’ll continue down this road the rest of their lives (in which case they’re constantly looking to others to define them) or they’ll wake up one day realizing they have no clue who they are. Everyone needs to go through the process.

4. As a consequence, faith must be “their own” as they grow up. Let me be clear: by this I do not mean that young children cannot own their faith. A faith that’s not owned isn’t really faith at all. It’s not inappropriate to micromanage someone else’s beliefs – it’s impossible. It overestimates the ability of adults and misconstrues what happens when we learn. Without crossing ethical lines (i.e., brainwashing), you simply cannot control someone’s values and beliefs. At any stage of life, if we only give them a version of faith that equates to a set of adult-pleasing behaviors, but is divorced from relational spirituality (a capacity all human beings possess), we’re not teaching faith.

This leads to the most important point: Christianity is not an identity.

Certainly many Christians identify themselves as such. And we would hope that’s a label kids wouldn’t shy away from as teenagers. Didn’t Jesus say, “Whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven”?

So why do I say that Christianity is not an identity? Because Christianity is an inside-out religion.

I once demonstrated this at a chapel service at a Christian school. I began by putting on one of their football jerseys and then proclaiming myself to be a student of the school and a member of the football team. Clearly I was neither, and it didn’t matter if I wore the jersey or even the whole uniform. I was not, because in the eyes of the administration of that school, I was not, had not been, and could not be accepted as a part of that team. Not unless the powers that be gave their approval  - to me, or to anyone – could someone rightly call themselves or be considered a member of the team. And for me, more than half a life removed from high school, that would be quite a stretch! The administration would have to make a huge exception – an excuse from the normal rules – to get me in.

As Christians, that’s who we are: the exceptional ones. The “Power that is” – God – has stamped our application “Approved”, and not because we came to him with a perfect transcript or because we could run the 40-yard dash in four seconds flat. Only after we’re on the team do we get to wear the jersey; likewise, we must become Christians first (an act of God) before we can be Christians.

What does this have to do with identity formation? Everything! I think that we have too-narrowly construed what it is to “be Christian”. In some churches, everything – from the books you read, to the clothes you wear, to the music you listen to – is under scrutiny because “the Christians” are always on guard, suspicious for any sign you might give off that you’re not “with us”. As a result, certain types of people cannot fit in without conforming to the masses (unless they’re extraordinarily stubborn, obtuse, or self-assured). What types of people? Artists, astronomers, geologists, biologists, (non-praise and worship) musicians, filmmakers, public school teachers and college professors, skeptics, philosophers, and freethinkers, to name a few. This is an inevitable result of narrowing Jesus: a narrow Jesus results in a narrow gospel, where not only is the spiritual life only about getting saved, but where all of life is flattened to be just about "the spiritual" (as if you could separate that part from the rest of us). So if you can agree to be “like them”, you’re in. If you can’t, better try harder to change.

How backwards is that?

Now consider this from a kid/teenager’s point of view. You’re growing up, you’re spreading your wings, you’re taking on responsibility and preparing to launch and be on your own; in short, you’re moving away from a dependence on parents (by God’s design – see Genesis 2:24). And to underscore the point, you start to emphasize a little more all the ways you are different from your mom and dad. We all did this. But if the gospel preached to you is, “You must be exactly like us,” that’s a problem.

And this is why equating Christian education with the modern-day character education movement is such a travesty. Christian education is not just character education. Character development is one of the fruits of the supernatural relational dynamic with God, but it is a side benefit. It is not the goal. God is the goal.

Character education promises to turn out a certain kind of kid, and – ta-da! they’re all the same – and – ta-da! – every one of the virtues they hold happen to be the same ones adults prize because they make kids easier to manage. It makes them, in essence, little adults. Well kids aren’t little adults. And the developmental process, by which we grow from infancy through adulthood (and continue to grow) is not a product of the Fall. And that means that kids will do things as they grow that make them distinctly harder to get along with – and that’s not necessarily wrong.

Anyone who doubts this needs to go back to Luke 2 and read the story of boy Jesus in the temple. When Mary and Joseph were traveling back to Nazareth in a caravan, and realized after three days that they didn’t know where Jesus was – and that no one knew where he was – they hastily returned to Jerusalem, where they found him at the temple. And boy Jesus utters the memorable line, “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” This, in answer to the panicked question, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” Jesus gave his parents worry. He even spoke to them in a way that you and I might consider a little disrespectful. Yet in all of this, Jesus did not sin.

So it rankles me to hear things like, “Jesus doesn’t want us to be angry.” Really? I think Jesus does want us to be angry at some things, angry enough to act: Hunger. Injustice. Slavery. Oppression. What we really mean when we say that is, “I don’t want you to be angry,” because anger is an intense emotion and a disruption. It demands attention, and a constructive response. Jesus was troubled – even angry – by some things, and they should trouble us too. When we say we want kids to “be like Jesus,” it means all of him, not just gentle Jesus, meek and mild.

Too often “faith” serves as a straightjacket, narrowing kids to a prescribed set of behaviors. It’s a form of identity foreclosure, and we do that at our peril. Kids leave our churches for college and say, “You know what? That’s not me – and it never was.” How much better to grant that there’s great variety in the body of Christ?

Oh, God wants to change us. Make no mistake about that. The first thing to understand about identity from a Christian perspective is what Paul wrote in Colossians 3: “You died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” Well, isn’t that an argument for the narrowing that I was arguing against? I don’t think so. Because at the same time, you didn’t stay dead. God is birthing a new thing, a life “in union” with Christ. And the new life, lives!

A marriage is also a union. Two people come together and agree to start one life, together. Yet we would never insist that every married couple behave the same. Why? Because the marriage is a product of its ingredients. The husband and the wife each bring something to the union. When that union is healthy, it bears good fruit. It takes faith, but we must believe that nurturing a kid's relationship with God - inviting them, teaching them how to encounter God, giving them spiritual disciplines - is itself the engine of goodness. So preach that. Don't just preach goodness.

5. With all that said, the behavior of models is important to look to as we forge an identity. Why? Because only by seeing life lived out can we really make a value judgment about it. Who taught you sportsmanship? Did you read it in a book? Or did you watch someone you admired, and how they handled winning and losing and rules violations? (When I was growing up, my tennis buddies and I watched and looked up to John McEnroe, and...yeah.) Who taught you how to appropriately express anger? How did you learn to speak to your boss, and to subordinates?

This all gets modeled, and we pick up cues all the time. The Bible is not a how-to manual on behavior. The New Testament letters contain some “do’s”, but those are exhortations, not step-by-step instructions. So for a kid, what does it mean to be a Christian a college student? A Christian coach? A Christian businessman? What is Christian parenting? How does a Christian husband or a Christian wife behave? We are creatures of imitation. If you don’t believe it, listen to how expressions from popular culture creep into our everyday speech. (And you respond: “I know, right?” Exactly.)

Ultimately, assuming an identity is not just a statement about who I am; it’s a determination of who I’m going to be. So the role models I choose to pattern myself after matter. A lot. And a church can be a great place for kids to find role models who will guide them in living out life w/Christ.


In 1 Corinthians, Paul writes that he planted the seed of their faith, Apollos “watered” it, but that “God made it grow. Therefore, neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.” Kids need to discover who they are. Our job is to gently help them recognize the hand of God in all of it.