Adolescence as a Common Ground

[This is my personal review of Richard Sennett's Respect In A World of Inequality.]

While Richard Sennett is, no doubt, a scholarly individual, he has two key problems with his newly-published book, Respect in a World of Inequality. What are those issues, you ask? While Sennett tends to present his topics in a beautiful and verbose manner, thoroughly creating intelligent discourse for his academic readers to speak back to, his two main problems are: the lack of cohesion of said topics and his ability to only allure a certain type of audience. Furthermore, Sennett’s novel, Respect, attempts to unify his personal memoir with social critique—without significant success, I might add. While he is able to refine his more grandiose topics (such as welfare, mutual respect, and self assertion) into detailed, intelligent expressions, the flow of Sennett’s writing is rather drawn-out and uninteresting. In attempt to avoid falling into a paradox similar to Sennett’s, I am only discussing one of the many claims in his novel, while also incorporating vital outside criticism to support my argument.
While the two main arguments in Sennett’s novel are welfare and respect, I believe the most captivating topic Sennett discusses is homelessness in adolescents, but first, allow me to digress: I feel as if it is the main consensus among my fellow classmates is that Sennett’s Respect is mostly disinteresting because it is “above” us intellectually. This is perhaps because the words themselves are difficult to follow, Sennett’s ideas are too heady, or we as late teens have not experienced enough of life to have a point of relation with Sennett to begin with. This said I believe that there is one point in Sennett’s novel that is worthwhile and easily accessible to students such as me: the topic of homeless in adolescents. While it is quite obvious that none of my fellow classmates at Quinnipiac University are homeless at the moment (not to say they never have been, for I do not know that,) we as adolescents ourselves understand the pretenses of being a teen, insofar as experiencing the trials and tribulations of finding our places in the world, forging our identities amidst a sea of uncertainty, juxtaposing the past and the present: our childhood versus the now.
Homeless or not, almost every late teen struggles to adapt as an individual, and consequently, each one of us attempts to push others as far away as possible in fear of not being capable of accomplishing these feats on our own. Sennett describes this situation perfectly: “Homeless adolescents are an extreme case of people who resist becoming spectators to their own needs” (Sennett, 176). Whenever adults or authority figures attempt to guide us in the correct direction, the reaction we have as teenagers is to rebel immediately due to the fact that we strongly want to prove ourselves. (And perhaps it also has something to do with previously discussed mood swings.)
In all seriousness, think about it. Let us consider the psychology of rebellion for a moment. In western civilization, it is commonly expected of adults to have a positive attitude regarding their children’s futures, often subscribing to the “anything is possible” ideal and attempting to bestow it upon their offspring (Allin, 1). Too often than not, though, these same children will see the adults in their lives participating in self-destructive activities such as drinking, drug-abusing, gambling, cheating, divorce, and other acts that break morals and ethics that were previously taught (Allin, 1). I ask, is it such a surprising choice for said teens to rebel? Psychologically speaking, teens are very easily influenced. In all actuality, it does not take much to sway our opinion or change our thoughts on particular subjects. With that said, teenagers are incredibly dramatic, too. (Not to say that adults are not.) Furthermore, with our mood swings, melodramatic nature, and desire for attention, it is quite easy for teenagers—perhaps even obvious—to rebel or “act out” against the disciplinarians of their lives.
Interestingly, there isn't much information regarding youth homelessness on the Internet, especially regarding children without homes in America, but why? It's not so surprising, as I doubt that many people want to know that 40% of the homeless in the United States are children under the age of 18. The Library of Congress reported in 2003 that 20% of these children lack appropriate medical care; 14% of these homeless youth are diagnosed with mental disabilities (double the rate of children living in homes.) 41% of homeless children without a home attend two different schools within a single year, while 28% of them attend three or more. Approximately 48% of youth living on the street reported having ever been pregnant. Are these numbers not affecting you? Consider, then, this QU 101 class as an example. Let each face run through your mind separately, take time to pause at each one, reflecting not only on our names, but our personalities, too. Say, for mathematical purposes, there are 20 students in our class. All of us would be homeless; eight of us would be homeless children. Out of the eight, almost four of us would be forced to attend multiple schools in one year. Half of us would become pregnant before we hit the age of 18. Maybe one of us would have a mental disability. Does this hit home? It should.
Originally, upon being hit with these statistics, I had to wonder: while not many of us intimately know an individual who is homeless, a certain percentage of the population must, right? At the very least, whether or not a homeless individual has been emotionally involved with others in their respective communities, police and other authority figures must be aware of these individuals. Speaking from personal experience, the community I grew up in—Saco—knew of a certain female who was homeless most of her life. Multiple families in my community, including my grandparents, offered her a place to stay. Unfortunately, she refused, time and time again. Her stubbornness seemed petty to me. Shouldn’t a homeless individual take opportunity such as those in a heartbeat? How could a person with such a horrible living situation be so egotistical?
And then I read the section in Sennett’s Respect on youth homeless. Sennett claims, “As homeless people, [teens] need help which they cannot provide for themselves. As adolescents they are rebelling against authority and the controls imposed by adults; like all adolescents they are distrustful and cynical about the guidance they need” (Sennett, 176). This passage from Sennett made me truly realize how the young woman in my home community must have felt, being asked so often if she wished to be taken in. While my grandparents and other members of Saco most likely meant the very best by asking to help her, I can understand how the female must have felt—perhaps degraded, hurt, and lessened. Sennett asks, “How can [homeless youth] experience both support and autonomy?” (Sennett, 177) I think that is the main question here: how can we help the homeless without tarnishing their self-respect? Is it possible?
Sennett himself suggests that he hardly knows how to solve such a riddle. (This is entirely frustrating, as Sennett is, after all, a Harvard-educated urban sociologist.) Similarly, Alan Ryan, in his essay “Call Me Mister,” speaks on his frustration toward Sennett’s inability to provide answers to his own questions: “Sennett does not uncover one unequivocal concept of respect, does not provide a novel moral philosophy of mutual respect, and does not come up with a blueprint for a welfare state about which we could all feel morally comfortable” (Ryan, 1). Ryan’s not the only one who feels that Sennett only asks questions: other piece of criticism offered by Scott McLemee of the Washington Post Book World suggests, “We have plenty of wonks already, though, offering more than enough simple answers—so perhaps Sennett can play a useful role in re-tailoring the questions” (McLemee, 1). While it is annoyingly difficult to understand Sennett’s heady language in the first place, it is perhaps the worst part that he cannot offer a conclusion to his extensive sociological questions. So, what is the remedy to this socioeconomic crisis?
First, I considered the options. Could the government force the homeless youth into shelters, transitional facilities, or work? While that seemed like an obvious answer to me, it is not, as the Constitution would not allow such behavior. I consider another method: offering shelter, making housing enticing, providing necessities such as food and showers, allowing the homeless to choose to come themselves. But then, wouldn’t that leave them forever in the same position? If I should ever find myself homeless and given free shelter, food, and bathing, why would I ever attempt to “pick up” my life again? (For the record, I most likely wouldn’t, as I’m sure most would do the same.) Also, there is the problem of getting homeless teens to come to the shelters in the first place; they do not wish to get help at this point in their lives, and do not wish to feel demeaned by other members of society. Can we as a community provide sincere concern and care for these adolescents? After all, Sennett claims that these teens need structure and caring to their lives in order to survive (Sennett, 177). While I admit to knowing little about urban society, homelessness, or social criticism, I am quite aware of what it feels like to be an adolescent. On that ground, I can entirely relate to these individuals. My best suggestion for solving this crisis is to use the following idea: shelters nationally need to recruit local “ambassadors” both of parental age and a more youthful age (perhaps ages 18-20) to go out into the community and talk to homeless youths, developing a sincere and meaningful relationship. Over time, these shelter ambassadors should encourage the homeless individuals to check out the shelter, see if they like it, suggest they might be more comfortable there, or whatever else might need to be said to persuade the homeless youth to get off the streets, move into homeless or transitional shelters, and eventually get a job of sorts. While not practical, it seems to be the most fitting answer. Humans are not perfect, as we are rather intricate beings. Not every youthful homeless individual is going to accept friendship from a total stranger and then take his or her advice, but perhaps it would make a difference.
In light of concluding, I feel as if most of what Sennett has to say is rather unhelpful. As an exception, his brief chapter on the adolescent homeless is rather intriguing and provocative to me, as it is more feasible to relate to, as an adolescent myself. While he did not answer any of his questions, he did provide a bit of insight on the subject of homelessness, and brought up quite a few interesting questions regarding dependency and autonomy. The issue of self-respect and welfare will be a long-lasting one, and I anxiously wait the day someone is able to fully understand the intricate delicacy of the human mind and is able to fix the issue of homelessness among teens. Until then, I will find a common ground among my fellow community members (whether or not that is my age,) embrace diversity for the beautiful entity that it is, and most importantly, I will always be prepared to answer my own questions.