Telling a teenager the facts of life is like giving a fish a

Arnold H. Glasow once spoke with wit and wisdom: “Telling a teenager the facts of life is like giving a fish a bath.” His words strike with humor, yet behind the laughter lies a truth that has echoed through generations — the truth that youth, caught in the tide of change, often resists the lessons their elders seek to impart. Just as a fish lives already in water and gains nothing from a bath, so too do many teenagers feel they already know the truths of life, and dismiss the counsel of those who have walked before them.

The origin of this saying flows from Glasow’s reputation as a humorist and keen observer of human behavior. He lived through an age when wisdom was passed from parents to children not only by books, but by fireside talks and lived example. Yet he saw how the young, overflowing with pride and certainty, often met such wisdom with rolled eyes or closed hearts. His humor was not meant to scorn, but to comfort the elders who try and fail, reminding them that resistance is part of growth, not a sign of wasted effort.

One may think of the story of Socrates in ancient Athens. He walked among the youth, questioning them, prodding them to think deeper about life, justice, and virtue. Yet many mocked him, resistant to the guidance he offered. Only later, when maturity tempered them, did his words grow roots in their souls. In this way, Socrates too discovered what Glasow declared: that teaching the facts of life to the young often feels as fruitless as bathing a fish, for the soil of understanding is not yet ready to receive the seed.

Adolescence is an age of rebellion, when the spirit seeks to assert its independence. The young do not wish to be told what they already believe they know, for in their eyes, their experience is enough. They are like the fish, swimming in their own world, blind to the gifts of wisdom surrounding them. The parent’s voice becomes a distant echo, and the teacher’s guidance a burden. Yet within this resistance lies a hidden truth: the young must sometimes learn by falling, just as a bird must test its wings by leaping into the wind.

To the elders, Glasow’s words bring solace. Do not despair when your counsel is shrugged off, nor think your wisdom wasted. The bath may be refused today, but the water of truth clings quietly to the skin. In time, when storms batter the spirit, those words you once spoke will rise again in the memory of your children, shining like a lantern in darkness. Seeds planted in stony ground may sprout later, when rain softens the earth.

To the youth, this teaching is both warning and gift. Do not be so quick to dismiss the wisdom of your elders, for they have walked paths you have not yet begun to tread. Their scars are your compass, their failures your shield. Even if you feel you already swim in knowledge, listen still, for wisdom is not just water — it is direction, it is strength, it is the current that may carry you safely through the rivers of life.

The lesson is eternal: patience for the teachers, humility for the learners. To parents and guides, speak with love, knowing resistance is part of the journey. To the young, open your ears even when your heart resists, for the truths of life are not burdens but treasures. Practice listening, practice reflection, and when advice comes, weigh it with respect, even if you choose your own path.

For in the end, Glasow reminds us that the work of teaching and the work of learning are not always aligned in time. What seems useless in one moment may prove vital in another. Let us therefore plant seeds of wisdom faithfully, water them with patience, and trust that in the fullness of time, the harvest will come.