Lisa Sloane recalls of her teenage years that nothing remarkable accompanied her transition to adulthood besides a shift in biology. When her daughter Eliza entered the same life transition a couple of years ago, Lisa sought to do things differently. Religious ceremonies that celebrated coming of age weren’t a good fit for their family, so Lisa would have to create something anew. “I called the moms of the girls who were in the seventh grade with my daughter at Mountain Laurel Waldorf School,” says Sloane, “and got them together. We talked about our own experiences at that age—how there was no honoring, no acknowledgment, a real sense of aloneness. We didn’t have many people to look toward to offer guidance.”
These mothers envisioned something better: a multigenerational sisterhood of sorts, to support their girls as they moved out of the nest. “We wanted to give them a safety net of women besides their mothers,” says Sloane, “where the girls could spread their wings in new ways and discover themselves.” Around that time, Sloane met David Brownstein, director of Wild Earth Wilderness School in New Paltz and one of the men in a mentoring network in the area for young men and boys. (See Chronogram’s December 2009 issue, “A Mentoring Community.”) Brownstein recommended Amy McTear and Hilton Purvis, both of New Paltz, as creative, positive role models who might help the mothers create something for the girls.
McTear is a mother of two daughters and a spiritual counselor and sound healer, who also brings her music and art to children in public schools “to empower and revitalize the spirit of children.” A few years earlier she and some of the mothers met for a while, each month at the full moon, with their daughters to support the girls at this critical time. “We wanted to strengthen our daughters against the fairly negative image of the female they get from the popular culture,” McTear explains. “A lot of research proves that girls dumb themselves down and become submissive after a certain age. We didn’t want our daughters to lose their vitality, their power.” McTear was happy to devise a program for the Mountain Laurel girls.
Hilton Purvis was already involved in the mentoring community of her sons and husband in New Paltz, and was delighted to cocreate a coming-of-age process for girls. “I wish more kids could have this,” she says. “There is something about the pivotal age of 13. So much happens so fast after that—there is so much in media, computers, and some really poor stuff to distract them. The goal is to develop consciousness in kids earlier.”
The Power of Challenge
McTear and Purvis planned out a program of nature adventure for the half-dozen girls that lasted a year and a half and ulminated with a weekend rites-of-passage ceremony. Says McTear, “We wanted the girls to be who they truly are, to stand in the world and give their gifts in the greatest way. We met once a month for a long day, sometimes overnight in the woods. We covered survival skills, so they could feel strong and capable. We talked about such things as body image, self-esteem, and relationships with parents, the opposite sex, and self. Among the requirements we had of them was to find something they really loved, and learn about it with a mentor, then teach that to the community. They also learned about their ancestral backgrounds.”
Eliza Sloane, now 13, describes one feature of their outings: talking circles. “To start off each meeting we would have a check-in circle about how we were doing, and what was going on in our lives. It was one of the basic things we did, and it was a kind of stress reliever. Then the group leaders would bring up a topic they had planned ahead that we’d talk about. It was different from the sorts of conversations girls my age would have, where there is no grown-up. We were seeking advice a little.”
Sharing personal things with others can be a challenge, but it’s also growthful and bonding. The same was true of the outdoor activities. “Some of the activities were hard for a lot of us,” Eliza recalls, “testing our boundaries—things like building a fire with only one match, swimming one at a time across a lake that was muddy and murky, and going for hikes and staying overnight. But once we did them, we liked it.”
Eliza’s mom knew that resistance and self-doubt was coming up now and then for the girls, “but we all decided to keep moving forward, because we had a sense it was going to be really important—and it was. They were developing a higher consciousness so they could walk into the world at large with awareness rather than just getting caught in the glitter.”
Besides outings, the girls each met regularly for a year with a mentor, or “auntie,” with whom they learned about a specific topic or skill of each girl’s choice. Topics included photography, horseback riding, interpersonal dynamics, and others. Part of their rites of passage was giving a public presentation about their learnings. Lily Bergstein mentored with Jerilyn Brownstein to explore the realm of dreaming. “She is such cool woman, and we are still good friends to this day,” says Lily. “We would meet every week for a solid year, go on walks, talk about dreaming. At our rites of passage I wrote this long speech about dreaming in two ways—literally, like making your dreams come true, and listening to your dreams in your sleep.” Lily values how much the girls’ instructors, Purvis and McTear, were remarkable mentors as well. “We got really close to them, and I felt like I could trust them so much. I learned how to make a close bond of friendship.” She also learned how to deal with disagreements. “The girls had their bickerings and fights, but we would mediate them with Hilton and Amy, so I leaned some really good skills.”
Rites of Passage
Same-gender gatherings and wisdom sharing are ancient and widespread features of human societies, with rites-of-passage ceremonies a common feature. While macabre and dangerous ceremonies may come to mind, a rite of passage is simply a prescribed challenge and honoring of young people as they cross the threshold into adulthood. For the girls, the rites of passage ceremony was their last weekend of the program, and included keeping a fire going alone all night in the woods.
Lily, who loves being outdoors, recalls, “After I did this 15-hour solo, I felt I had such a strong connection with the Earth. You’re with the whole entire Earth, not just yourself. It does get spiritual—it’s almost like the Earth tucked me under, and as I rested, it would let me know every now and then when my fire was going out. When I go outdoors my spirit feels so young, and Grandmother Earth is so old.”
That same weekend each of the girls’ fathers read a letter, aloud to the girls and others gathered in their honor, about the gifts his daughter brings to the world. To further acknowledge the girls’ emerging into adulthood, a ceremony symbolized the weaving of a supportive web among the girls and women, to replace the single maternal cord, which had been symbolically cut at the very first meeting.
Rites of passage are remarkably powerful, says McTear, especially when it takes people a bit out of their comfort zone. “I’m not of the mind to force people into it—I believe in people coming to it with free choice. But if we don’t push past our level of comfort, we don’t know how unlimited we are. Even though some of their girls had been having feelings of panic and anxiety that they couldn’t do it, they were glad they followed through.”
Linking Generations
Lily is now continuing her outdoors adventures in White Tail Trekking, a backpacking program offered through Wild Earth Wilderness School that has a strong mentoring presence from instructors in their twenties and others in their fifties. “I am very into women being able to do just as many things as men. We’re learning so many skills. So far we’ve done two sessions of camping for two nights each. On one trip we went through five streams in two miles, in the snow, and just as the sun was setting we went into survival mode to set up camp and stay warm. On the other trip we slept in a yurt on the Appalachian Trail, where it was very toasty inside.”
The program coordinator for White Tail Trekking is Amy Little (whose daughter, Sarah, was among the rites-of-passage girls). Little extols the value of mentoring and nature combined. “In nature, the girls can really experience aliveness and take some risks that build their confidence. There is this edge they can go to, where the elements are very raw. All teenagers take risky behaviors, and being able to challenge themselves in the environment is really an amazing thing. So when the pressures of popular culture are out there, the girls are much more equipped to be strong and self-confident.”
White Tail Trekking is designed to model multigenerational connections by having mentors of two generations for the teens. Esperanza Gonzales is one of the younger mentors (in her twenties) and is herself in a program, Wolf Initiative, with women a generation older. “They are mentoring us, and we’re working on how we communicate as a mentor for girls,” she explains. “We treat each other with respect and care, and that trickles down to the younger girls.”
Whatever Gonzales learns—both in skills and in relating among generations—she can model for the teen girls just below her on the age scale. “We had a three-day-campout training and initiation for the 12- to 15-year-olds, who we invited to be counselors for the younger kids at Wild Earth. We gave them challenges to tap into their talents and deepen their connection to nature and themselves, and strengthen what they can offer the younger children. It’s an amazing program and a wonderful community to be part of.”
What’s more, young people in multigenerational mentoring programs are reviving an endangered perspective: appreciating elders. Gonzales sees it firsthand: “If the elders are taking care of the folks just below them, and every generation is taking care of the generation below, a connection is created that goes both ways. Every time we have an elder as a guest, they get the first meal and the best seat. There is a very real reverence for the elderly in the kids who have grown up with this. We are told to respect our elders, but you have to see it modeled or it’s not going to happen.”
Growing a Community
Girls and women in mentoring relationships describe rich and enduring connections. “With all the families I’ve met along the way,” says Gonzales, “and the little girls and teens, it’s become more about the between times than the formal programs. It’s about being like an older sister. We go out to movies, have dinner, and become everyday friends. The same for the older men and women, like when they call or stop by when I’m sick, or have me over for dinner—the relationships really start developing.”
Of this community-weaving phenomenon, Purvis perceives that “we’re trying to recreate something that used to be naturally occurring in tribal settings or extended families. It’s not a new concept, but now the nuclear family keeps us separate in some ways.” Purvis is not suggesting we live in tribes of old, but rather cites a new community paradigm, as described by West African elder Malidoma Somé in his books Of Water and Spirit and The Healing Wisdom of Africa. “He talks about how such harmony will be created when tribal and modern cultures come together. The modern world has so many ways we can be connected to each other that tribes did not.”
Others in mentoring communities concur that there is healing and hope, not just for us but for future generations, if we expand and weave connections this way. “Mentoring is a recalibration, a recommitting to being a village on this planet,” says Little. “We need to participate in creating the kind of culture that appreciates what we have. I choose nature as the arena, but there are opportunities for mentoring anywhere you listen to one another, and ask what gifts we can give to each other—even if it’s simply the gift of kindness. I have mentors, most of them older than me, but some are younger, and I learn from them, too.”
To start a mentoring community, Little suggests we start by asking those friends who would make good role models to talk to our children, teach them something, or spend time with them. “It’s not just for our own kids,” she says, “but for the rest of the planet.” And as Eliza Sloane, a wise young woman already, counsels, “For people who haven’t had this kind of experience yet, it’s never too late.”
Resources:
Wild Earth Wilderness School www.wildearthprograms.org
This article appears in March 2010.
