Adolescence is not merely a phase of growth: it is a profound redefinition of relationships
There is a precise moment, often silent, when it happens. The child who until recently sought contact and closeness begins to pull away. The door to his room closes, but the gesture means far more than the physical space it defines: it marks a shift in balance. You are no longer the centre of his world. For many parents, this is an unsettling transition. In a context like Italy's — where children are few, long awaited and often the only one — adolescence is not merely a phase of growth: it is a profound redefinition of relationships. Just when the adult feels the need to be more present, he realises he matters less. It is within this tension that Alberto Pellai's reflection takes shape. During the first meeting of the "Adolescence" Project, he reexamined the educational role within the transformations of our time, putting forward an inspiring challenge that inverts the method and reclaims words such as waiting, effort and time — restoring them as faithful allies.
A TRANSITION THAT SHAKES
The period between the ages of 10 and 14 is not a simple transition. It is a powerful internal restructuring that affects emotions, behaviours, and the perception of oneself and others. Pellai uses a striking image: a "tsunami". Something that breaks previous equilibria and forces the search for new ones. This is not rebellion for its own sake. It is the result of a non-linear development: emotions accelerate, while the capacity to manage them is still under construction. Hence the intense reactions, sudden shifts and apparent contradictions. In reality, it is the sign of a system in the process of reorganising itself. In this scenario, the need for space becomes inevitable. The body changes, habits transform, and the bedroom takes on a new meaning: it becomes territory. That gesture — closing a door — is not a rejection, but a declaration of autonomy.
The risk of over-protecting
Faced with this change, many adults react with apprehension. Not so much out of a lack of love, but out of an excess of fear. Fear that their children will suffer, make mistakes, fall behind. It is here that Pellai introduces one of his most provocative insights: not everything that is difficult needs to be eliminated. A certain degree of imperfection, obstacles and frustration is necessary. It is what allows real competences to be built. Without friction, no strength develops. When every difficulty is anticipated or neutralised, the implicit message is clear: you are not capable on your own. And so, in the attempt to protect, one ends up weakening.
If adolescence is a turbulent phase, the point is not to avoid it. It is to understand how to navigate it. To be the stability while the other oscillates. To do this, however, one difficult thing is required: not allowing oneself to be infected by anxiety. A parent who loses emotional control does not help the other regain it. On the contrary, it amplifies the disorder. True educational presence lies in the capacity to remain, to not react immediately, to wait for the intensity to subside. It is not distance — it is a different form of closeness.
What makes everything more complex is the current context. Today, behind that closed door, there is not only solitude or silence. There is a digital universe that intercepts needs, emotions and relationships. The smartphone is not a simple object: it is an environment. And in a phase in which the brain is particularly sensitive to immediate gratification, that world becomes enormously attractive.
The risk perceived by adults is one of subtraction: the child is physically present, but mentally elsewhere. Yet simply prohibiting is not enough. It is necessary to build credible alternatives — real experiences that restore value to direct contact.
A wish
After describing the challenges, Pellai was invited to leave a wish for young people. His answer was simple: do not avoid hardship. It is from here that everything comes back together. Because in those words lies a cultural reversal: growth does not come from the elimination of difficulties, but from passing through them. Life, from this perspective, does not become meaningful when it is easy, but when it allows us to discover within ourselves the resources to face it. It is a clear shift in outlook: not protecting from everything, but accompanying through experiences. Not chasing external models, but building inner solidity. The wish unfolds along a precise line: have patience. Accept that the time of growth is not immediate, that what today appears arduous may have a meaning that will become clear later. It also means renouncing shortcuts: avoiding the numbing of emotions, the circumventing of difficulties, the stepping back when something puts us to the test. There is then a concrete, almost physical invitation: stay in reality. Go out, meet others, live experiences. Because it is in contact with the world that identity is built.
Those words, though addressed to young people, also speak to adults. Because to truly support this journey means accepting a degree of uncertainty, relinquishing total control, tolerating mistakes. It means remaining present without intruding. Being a fixed point, even when one is no longer the central one. In the end, what remains is not an educational technique, but an existential stance: choosing what makes us grow, even when it is harder. For oneself and for one's children. And perhaps this is the deepest meaning of that wish: not to make the road easier, but to become capable of walking it.
