Chantal - Have Laptop Will Travel

Sammi started texting me about a week ago, and since then, it’s been in my head every night before I go to sleep.

Sammi’s 16. I barely remember 16, but through our emails and texts, she’s sort of become a younger sister to me, and I’ve been trying to remember what it was like to be that age. Given I’ve not yet met her, I often feel embarrassed by acting like an older sister, but what I feel, above all else, is the desire to give her some guidance and help her to live the best life she can. I never spent much time bothering to be a teenager at the time, so maybe I’m the last person to be advising her, but I want her to know that there’s so much more out there awaiting her in a few years’ time.

I remember having a choice between two high schools, one which was nearby, but where they piled the pressure on excessively, and another, further away, where the reputation was higher and the pressure was more subtle. Having attended a primary school where they’d had to scratch around for extracurricular projects to keep me occupied, and let me skip as many year groups as needed, all I felt at the latter school was a profound lack of interest in my classmates. During my A-levels, I eventually chose my subjects based on the relevant teachers, and spent the rest of my time teaching photography, or working. As soon as I finished my exams, I flew to Holland for a few days, then on to France to work.

It’s two and a half weeks later now, and 2 o’clock in the morning. I spent nearly an hour on the phone to Sammi earlier, and chatted to her a few times earlier in the week. I’ve suggested she put herself up for auction on the Fuerteventura Forum, as I get concerned about her home and school situation, but maybe it’s simply that she’s a different type of teenager from when I was her age, and that the generation gap is simply too large. I’ve often discussed with friends over the years about the differences between what was available when we were growing up and with present-day kids and teenagers, and she truly brings it home to me.

So I’ve become her surrogate big sister. She’s the age I was when I met Katie, who took over a lot of the mothering my mother wasn’t around to do. I remember asking Katie a few years ago what I was like when she first met me, as I no longer remembered; though I don’t remember what I said, I have a vague memory that I was busy rediscovering the world and London in particular, whereas Sammi is stuck in a village outside Sherborne and hating it.

I’ve been thinking over the last few weeks how I’d develop this piece, and I figured it’d be advice to the teenager that Sammi is, to the teenager I was who is still somewhere out there.

Anybody who knows me knows I dislike my grandmother – for who she is, for how she treated my mother, and lastly, for her feelings towards me – but when I was 14, I heard some valuable advice from her, not that I particularly appreciated it at the time, only now: ‘Don’t be in such a rush to grow up. You’ll be grownup for so long, enjoy being young while you can.’

Over the years, I’ve reminisced over my school and university years, kicking myself violently for not appreciating them more at the time. I’ve chatted with Sammi that, yes, I disliked most of the girls at my high school, but rather than get involved with their petty obsessions, I ignored them. I had so many friends in the years above me that nobody was that sure which year I was actually in. But as my family knows all too well, I’d happily blank anyone I disliked. It may have meant that I left with few ties, but at least I was able to give myself the freedom to be friends with those I chose, as and when I wanted. I was also lucky to have a near-full-time job outside of school, and I fast built up friendships with my colleagues and the customers there, to offset the daily teenage angst I never had any time or patience for. Sammi’s assured me that there aren’t any ‘outsiders’ to hang out with at school, but I’m hoping that, in time, they’ll emerge, and she can find healthier friends to spend her time with, those less obsessed with the petty minutiae that constitute the teenage world, and those too involved with their pain.

She’s bored with me nagging her about considering university, but I accept that that’s part of where she is now, and that not going to university in 2 years doesn’t necessary mean that she’ll never go. She’s so disillusioned with her life as it is now, and what it has to offer her, that I want her to understand that two years of working hard, really trying, opens up options for her and would give her a shot at leading the life she wants to lead, as opposed to an extension of the life she’s living now, and is clearly dissatisfied with. Not only that, but university is a wonderful experience, something that she would fully deserve after 18 years in Thornford, or whatever her village is called. The world consists of more diverse people than the ones in her high school, village, Sherborne and Yeovil, and it’s overly shortsighted to assume that that constitutes the entire world. Maybe university does represent an enormous amount of hard work to attain the necessary grades, but as she knows, I don’t believe that any excuse is acceptable in selling oneself short just to save themselves the extra effort and work involved. We all have dreams; I find it hard to believe that anyone could dream to end up a receptionist in Yeovil, at best.

I think what I miss about high school and university, besides not having to worry about rent and bills, was the freedom I had to explore anything I wanted for free, the opportunities which were on offer which I ignored, always expecting I’d take them up the following year or once I’d finished studying. Not all schools or universities are as well-funded as mine, I accept, but at least there you could get a head-start on what you enjoyed the most, so that you could continue after graduation with a hefty background behind you, if not an advantage over other candidates, at least a wealth of positive memories. Whether it was photography, acting, journalism, music, dance, (or extreme sports), they were there for the taking – as was an open-handed ‘Yes’, as opposed to the ever-present ‘No’ that London specialises in. It’s too easy to take those opportunities for granted at the time, if only because we believe that they’ll always be there. I’m old enough to not expect a world where rent, bills, catfood, cat litter and unexpected debts don’t exist, but, for all the holes in my memory, I won’t forget the days when none of those mattered, that the money I earned was my own, and that the endless stalls at Freshers’ Week seemed superfluous.

Finally. Sammi’s read my piece ‘Wallflowers’, so she knows how I feel about people experiencing the world they create. There is no need to hate the world you are in, unless you genuinely want to; the only thing or person to be affected is yourself. If there are elements which hurt you or which you dislike, then discard them. If that’s not an option, then reconcile yourself to them in whichever manner it takes to leave you at peace and somewhat happier. If it’s the overall situation, then do what you can to make the most of it, to take from it what you can, and to prevent it from hurting yourself too much. Nothing is forever, not living at home, bitchy friends, problems at school, crappy jobs – it’s up to you to decide what you want and how you want to achieve it. But when you get bogged down by the little things, you reduce yourself to the only options available to you at that level. If that’s what you want, then so be it, but it’s a shame, as life is too short as it is to waste it by selling yourself short. Apart from crappy recruitment agents, the main thing holding us back is ourselves.

Okay, so that wasn’t quite ‘finally’. Eckhart Tolle wrote that most of human dysfunction is based on too much focus on the past or future, and not enough of appreciating the present for what it is. I’ve never managed to read too much of his book – some tasty fiction luring me away every time – but there’s also a danger of becoming too immersed in the present to the extent that you can’t envisage any future. Or allow yourself to dream of a future other than the one you’re currently building for yourself. The days of job-for-life are over; everything is short-term – school, friendships, plans, dreams. So put your energy into that which matters, that which makes you happy, and avoid the toxic elements which are there for temptation. Think about what’s good in your life, and about what you want, and don’t let anything tell you you can’t do it.