To an adolescent, there is nothing in the world more

Dave Barry once quipped with humor yet profound truth: “To an adolescent, there is nothing in the world more embarrassing than a parent.” At first glance, these words appear lighthearted, a jest at the endless struggles of youth and family. Yet beneath the laughter lies a universal reality: the age of adolescence is a time when the child longs for independence, yet is still tethered to the guiding presence of their parents. In this tension, the simplest gestures of love from a mother or father can feel, to the youth, like the sharpest humiliation.

The ancients understood this paradox of growth, though they clothed it in different symbols. Among the Greeks, the god Hermes was revered as the trickster youth—restless, clever, and eager to break free from the authority of Zeus. In this divine myth lies the reflection of every adolescent, who feels both the pull of obedience and the push of rebellion. The laughter of Barry’s words hides a deeper truth: that the shame of being seen with one’s parents is not truly about the parents themselves, but about the youth’s desperate struggle to be seen as an individual.

Consider the story of the Roman general Scipio Africanus in his youth. As a boy, he was guided by his father into the ways of duty and discipline. Yet it is told that in his younger years, he resisted, wishing to carve his own path, apart from his father’s shadow. Only later, when his own victories shone upon him, did he reconcile with the wisdom of the guidance he once resisted. In the fire of adolescence, the hand of the parent feels heavy; yet in the calm of maturity, the same hand is remembered as steady and life-giving.

The embarrassment of the youth is, in truth, the mirror of their fear. They fear to be seen as children, even as they secretly still need their parents’ protection. They fear ridicule from peers, who are themselves caught in the same turmoil of self-consciousness. They fear that their emerging identity will be overshadowed by those who raised them. Thus, the presence of a parent, meant to be comforting, becomes to them a spotlight upon their fragility.

Yet the wisdom of this quote is not meant to condemn the youth, nor to scorn their immaturity, but to remind us that this embarrassment is part of the sacred passage into selfhood. It is not cruelty that makes the adolescent roll their eyes or blush at their parents’ words—it is the trembling of a spirit trying to learn how to stand on its own. Parents, therefore, must not despair or grow bitter in this season, but see it for what it is: a necessary stage in the flowering of independence.

The lesson is this: to the parent, patience and humility are required. Do not take offense when your affection is rejected, for it is not rejection of love, but of dependency. Hold fast, love quietly, and remain steadfast, for the storm will pass, and the bond will deepen in later years. To the adolescent, remember that your parents’ presence, though at times mortifying, springs from love. One day, the same actions that now make you blush will be remembered with gratitude and tenderness.

Practical counsel can be given. Parents, choose your moments wisely—support from the shadows when needed, step into the light only when the child truly requires it. Adolescents, strive to see beyond your immediate shame, and recognize that the love of a parent is a treasure rarer than gold. Both sides must learn patience, for the bridge between dependence and independence is not crossed in a single stride but in many halting steps.

Thus Dave Barry’s jest becomes timeless wisdom: “To an adolescent, there is nothing in the world more embarrassing than a parent.” What seems at first a joke is in truth a parable of growing up: the push and pull of love, the clash between dependence and freedom, the fire of youth seeking its own form. And when the storm is over, both child and parent emerge stronger, bound by a love that has endured even the trials of embarrassment, and transformed into respect.