Unpacking Adolescence

Written by Tracey Farrell

​Like anyone with an interest in youth issues (or just a proclivity to clicking on anything in Netflix’s Top 10), I recently binge watched Adolescence. A four-part drama series shot in single take, real time sequences, Adolescence follows a 13-month journey starting with the arrest of 13-year-old Jamie, accused of the murder of his school peer, Katie. In this post, I’ll unpack my thoughts on the first two episodes – note, there’s spoilers ahead, so don’t continue if you want to watch it unspoiled!

Each episode has a different focus, but one thing stays the same: they make us feel something - and feel it intensely. The first focuses on Jamie’s arrest and police processing. Along the way, we are subtly introduced to the nuances of today’s parent-teen relationships, with Jamie choosing his Dad to be his advocate, and Detective Bascombe grappling with getting his own son to attend school. In both relationships, there’s a sense that the boys feel unknown, perhaps seen but not heard. We see two busy working dads with two disconnected sons, each reaching out in different ways.

Interestingly, it’s a very male heavy episode, aside from the stoic Detective Frank, Jamie’s mum and sister, and the task-oriented nurse who shows glimpses of compassion, seemingly a nod to our sense as the viewers that ‘this can’t be true’. I can’t help but think this was done purposely, and I’m still thinking about what that means.

One part that stood out for me was the sequence showing Jamie’s mum incensed over the damage done to the house when the arrest took place. This preoccupation with something that seemed so trivial given the gravity of the situation, was a clever way to show us how at that point in time the worst outcome imaginable was that their house was damaged unfairly – because Jamie must be innocent.

Inconspicuously (but perhaps more obviously to those who work in (or oppose) criminal justice systems) it’s asking us to consider our views on age of responsibility and whether systems intended for adults can ever be suitable for children. What does it mean to be represented legally, or advocated for by someone you’ve never met?

The second episode sees us exposed to school, with a heavy emphasis on the police’s anxious need to uncover the ‘why’ of Jamie’s extreme violence. The chaos in this episode helps us feel the urgency of what’s impacting young people today. We’re introduced to the idea that schools are sites of chaos, unrest and harm. The lack of agency experienced by everyone, not least of all the teachers, shows us how very out of control everyone feels and the ways in which people try to take back control. I was left with a sense of desperate hopelessness, equally for the things we can see in plain sight and the things that are hidden including online bullying and recruitment into incel culture.

We also see the dawning realisation of Detective Bascombe recognising the distance between him and his own teenage son. He sees glimpses of just how incredibly hard and lonely his son’s world must be. Alongside the message of showing how pervasive the issue of parent-child disconnect is, this adjacent storyline shows us the difference between internalising and externalising behaviours – the ways in which children and young people defend against their pain. This idea is embedded that little bit further through introducing us to Katie’s best friend Jade. Clearly known to teachers and wellbeing staff, Jade is loud in her distress and pain. She finds it hard to accept comfort, again leaving me with the sense of hopelessness – how do we reach these kids, going through so much?

This episode also asks us to examine our ideas of the ‘perfect victim’ – the harmful idea that certain victims are more deserving of empathy and justice. A slight unveiling of who Katie was in the online world, and suddenly we’re asking ourselves if perhaps if it’s a tiny bit…comprehensible?...that Jamie did what he did. It doesn’t ask us to see it as forgivable of course, nor justified in any way, but uncomfortably it asks us, the audience, to notice the slight shift that happens when there’s some sort of answer to the ‘why’. Linking this more broadly to the overt toxic masculinity theme, it asks us to consider how a young man (seeking belonging at best and power at worst) might begin to believe their thoughts about women are right.

At the end of the episode, there’s a haunting choir song about fragility, sung as we watch Jamie’s dad lay flowers at the site where Jamie killed Katie. The choir is made up of young people from the school where the scene was shot, with a solo by the actor who played Katie. For those who love to go down rabbit holes after watching a drama like this, it is a poignant moment of realisation, deepening the emotions that we felt as we watched a man grappling with who his son is, and by extension who he might be. It’s here we start to feel the heavy weight of the parenting message embedded in the series. Adolescence is asking us as parents to think about the role we play in what’s happening for today’s children and young people (or was it just about boys as some commentators are suggesting?).
 
I was struck once again by the focus on decoding the meaning of emojis. Before I deleted social media, I would often see videos of adults ‘exposing’ emoji meanings, slang and codes used by teenagers. My next question is always ‘and what will you do with this knowledge?’ Will you actually talk to your child about it, or are we happy to settle that we know what children and young people are saying to each other? Let me know if you’d like me to write about this – I think it’s part of a bigger issue of how we connect with our kids.

The remaining two episodes tackle other huge issues – importantly, the silencing and overshadowing of victims and preoccupation with perpetrators. Where was Katie’s episode? And how might not having one mirror the way our world sees women? Again I have questions about the intentionality, or not, of this decision.

I can’t stop thinking about this series and more importantly, what we do with what it raises. What about you? What were your thoughts – I’d love to hear them.

PS. Normally I'd insert a purple heart emoji here, to signal compassion and care...but I guess until its apparent real meaning fades away from everyone's mind, I'll instead end with 'Take care everyone'. Until next time! Tracey x