The controversy about a 15-year-old British lad traversing across Western Europe, accompanied by a mate, piqued my curiosity. I had a similar experience at the same age, journeying with a pal across the United States on Greyhound buses. It was her first international expedition minus a guardian, whereas I was already accustomed to commuting between Manchester, France, and Germany via coach and rail for some years. We didn’t have mobile phones, and my limited money barely covered food during the trip, no credit card to lean on either. If I needed assistance, I relied on strangers, communicating in French or German as required.
Being raised by quirky parents as per the 1990s British norms, I developed an extreme independence that didn’t always prove beneficial. My hardships were a privilege; I carried loose coins, made my plans, all while the tickets were covered by my parents. No one hinted that I should be working instead of discovering Europe during vacation. As a consequence of circumstance, I matured into a pragmatic and accountable teenager, this grew more on the go.
Looking back now, it’s challenging to segregate hazards of traversing, from trials faced as a teenage girl in a bustling city in the early 1990s. I endured torment on the streets, a custom I pray is unimaginable now. The experiences were no different in Marseilles and slightly better in Cologne, compared to my daily route to school.
There were scary instances during lengthy stopovers at American bus stations in the dawn hours, but those were offset by impactful, life-altering talks with people I met. My fluency in French and German amplified, I managed to cope in several other languages. My judgement sharpened in discerning whom to trust; I was fortunate in this regard.
The level of menace experienced by a teen girl in the ’90s is hopefully unheard of now. My friend’s delightful carelessness set an unmatchable precedent. I’m neither encouraging nor criticising HRT but wondering if we are reverting to medicating women for annoyance.
Yes, the scenario could have gone horrendously awry, but the risk was equivalent while navigating through Manchester. Other places weren’t essentially more dangerous than my hometown. Given that my parents were usually on their tours and unreachable, they were unlikely to jump in as saviours in any jurisdiction. I carried my vulnerability and my self-sufficiency with me.
After two decades since my previous travels, I relocated to Iceland accompanied by my own young boys. It’s commonplace for Icelandic children as young as six to commute to school on foot, in the company of schoolmates or siblings. Their leisure time is spent outdoors, in parks and on the streets with their mixed-age mates, sans the watchful eye of an adult. Our residence was an apartment by the sea, a place full of potential risks for a child including the chance of falling off walls or docks into occasionally icy water. We had two alternatives: either allow our son to partake in activities with his local friends, or maintain his safety following English standards.
Our teacher questioned our parenting approach, unable to comprehend why we’d raise our child to rely on others for his physical safety and called it the most precarious set-up. The response was not just that I had limited trust in a six-year-old’s capability to ensure his safety, but also a desire for him to feel loved, to realise we cared about his wellbeing, that he not plunge into the sea. As a child, I had to ensure my own safety, coming to realise that my safety didn’t matter to anyone else.
That, I believe, lies at the heart of the debate over adolescents and independence. Since their mid-teens, my children have travelled solo on routes between Britain and Ireland, equipped with their own phones and credit cards. They moved between homes where they felt both loved and trusted.
Yes, there could be instances when things go awry but mishaps can occur even here in Dublin. Being a parent entails embracing worry as part of the role, along with the gradual transition of safety responsibilities from parent to child. I imagine that the exact timing of this transition can be assigned to individual families depending on their personal circumstances, as long as the act of loving care is properly executed.
And it begs the question: would the people expressing concern over a middle-class 15-year-old boy travelling with a rail pass display the same level of concern for all the lone teenage boys navigating across lands and seas via boats and trucks or by foot, in search of a safe haven?