Yesterday morning started with a cup of coffee and a conversation with my daughter. She is an incredible, amazing individual – and whenever we talk, the conversation goes deep. She has a way of stirring up emotions and feelings in me, specifically unearthing that stubborn, enduring rebel side that’s lived in my chest since my early teens.
That rebel spirit didn’t just fade away with the morning coffee, either. It carried right over into the next day and I didn’t even realize it. I walked out to the car with a lighter and airier feel than normal the next morning, pulled out of the driveway without buckling my seatbelt, and gunned the loud car engine down the street and over the hill to Ocean Beach just for a fleeting, rule-breaking couple of minutes – and loved every bit of it. I drove the whole way without it, riding that strange, electric current of defiance.
Naturally, that mood demanded a soundtrack. I fired up Pandora, turned up Burt Bacharach’s timeless classic sung by B.J. Thomas, and belted “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” out loud. Reflecting on it, that song and that rebellious, lighthearted feeling always takes me right back to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (released in 1969, right as I was stepping into my teenage years) and my daughter reminded me of that time but I kind of just moved on to the noise of my life and didn’t think about it till that next morning.
Growing up, I often felt like raindrops were literally falling on my head, as if I didn’t quite fit anywhere. I was very much a loner. Sure, I had a few friends – lifers like Bill, and another dear friend Dallas – but my world was mostly my own. I didn’t march to the standard drumbeat. Looking back across a lifetime, people who know me might say that teenage rebel never really left. But as I reflect sitting in the car where I’m still smiling and singing, I said I need to share this because I am sure all of you reading this blog could say the same thing but my question is can the early teens of our current world say the same?
If I felt like raindrops were falling on my head back then, imagine what kids are navigating right now. Today’s early teens are handed a smartphone before they even know who they are, stepping into an algorithmic pressure cooker of social media, constant comparison, and relentless digital impulses. They are bombarded with curated perfection 24/7, leaving many of them feeling isolated, overwhelmed, and completely out of place. When you’re constantly connected to everyone else’s highlight reel, do you even think it’s possible to be a true rebel anymore? Do they know what it feels like to just step away, break the mold, and find joy in your own independent rhythm?
It makes me wonder:
What can we actually do for early teens – especially for me, early teen boys – to help them find their way when those heavy raindrops start falling on their heads? Maybe they don’t need another lecture or another screen-based solution. Maybe they just need real mentors, real conversations that go beneath the surface, and the permission to unplug, make mistakes, and find out who they are outside of the digital noise.
I don’t have all the answers, but I know they need us in their corner in a BIG WAY RIGHT NOW. They need our protection. So how are you helping the young people in your life navigate the storm?”
Who are you going to help today to “Start talking to the SUN”?
