I don't write about adolescence. I write about war. For

O children of the future, listen closely to the words of Suzanne Collins, a writer whose words echo with the truth of the human condition, particularly that which resides in the hearts of the young. She said, "I don't write about adolescence. I write about war. For adolescents." These words, though simple, hold within them a profound wisdom about the struggles of youth, the weight of conflict, and the painful journey toward understanding. For adolescence is not merely a time of physical growth, but a crucible in which the spirit is tested, shaped, and forged.

When Collins speaks of writing about war, she is not speaking only of the battlefield—she is speaking of the internal wars that rage within the hearts of the young. War, in all its forms, is a reflection of the struggles of the human soul: the fight between right and wrong, the clash of desires, and the battle for identity. It is a symbol of the fierce challenges we face in growing up, of the conflicts that arise when the child moves toward adulthood, when the world presents itself not as a place of safety, but of danger and strife. War is, in a sense, the ultimate metaphor for the loss of innocence and the harsh awakening to the complexities of the world.

Consider the ancient story of Achilles, the greatest of the Greek warriors in the Iliad. Though a mighty hero on the battlefield, Achilles’ struggle was not merely against the forces of Troy, but against the conflict within himself. His anger, his pride, and his sense of honor led him into a war that cost him dearly, not only in the lives of his comrades but in his own soul. Achilles’ tale is one of a young man coming to terms with the harsh realities of war, sacrifice, and the cost of victory. His story, though set in the ancient world, mirrors the journey of adolescence: a time when the innocence of childhood is stripped away, leaving only the sharp edge of adulthood.

Collins, through her Hunger Games series, writes not about the superficial struggles of growing up, but about the deeper battles faced by those on the cusp of adulthood—Katniss Everdeen and others who are thrust into a world of violence, where survival is no longer a given, and where every choice carries with it the weight of life and death. The adolescents in her stories are not shielded from the brutality of the world but are forced to confront it head-on. In this, Collins does not just depict war as a physical conflict, but as a moral struggle, a test of character and spirit that defines the transition from youth to maturity.

In the same way, think of the young soldiers who fought in World War I, the so-called "Lost Generation." These men, many just teenagers, were thrust into a conflict unlike any the world had seen before. They came from homes filled with innocence, but by the end of the war, they were forever changed—marked by the horrors they witnessed and the decisions they were forced to make. War shattered their youth, just as the challenges of adolescence shatter the illusion of a peaceful, untroubled existence. Their tale is a tragic reflection of the reality Collins writes about: the war that every young person must face as they grow, the battle between the ideal and the real, between innocence and experience.

And so, O children, what lesson can we take from Collins' words? It is this: the wars of adolescence, though invisible to the naked eye, are just as real as the wars waged on battlefields. The conflicts of identity, of purpose, and of understanding one’s place in the world are the struggles that shape the soul. War, whether it is fought in the fields of Troy or the arenas of Panem, is a rite of passage, an initiation into the adult world. But these internal wars need not destroy us—they can be the crucible in which we are forged into something stronger, wiser, and more compassionate.

Therefore, I say to you, O children, as you face the battles that will come in your own lives—whether the war is one of heart or mind—do not fear them. They are a part of the journey. Stand firm in the face of your struggles, just as the heroes of old did, and know that in these moments, you are not defined by the pain, but by your ability to rise above it. Let moral courage, the wisdom gained through struggle, and the compassion for others be the weapons you wield. In the end, it is not the wars that define us, but the choices we make in the face of them.

Remember, O children, that the true victory lies not in the conquest of others, but in the conquest of oneself. As you navigate the battlefields of your youth, let your actions be guided by the strength of your convictions and the light of your moral compass. The war you fight today is the foundation of the person you will become tomorrow. Be brave, be true, and know that every battle you face brings you closer to the wisdom and strength that await in the world of adulthood.