The Challenges of Adolescence
Adolescence is a stormy yet sacred crossroads, a time of self-discovery, rebellion, and raw emotion—not only for our children but for us as parents. It is an age filled with questions and contradictions: a desperate longing for independence, yet an unspoken need for guidance; an external toughness that often masks deep vulnerability.
For parents, this journey can be one of heartache, uncertainty, and prayer—prayers, and more prayers. We pray for our children, that they find their way without losing themselves. We pray for ourselves, that we may be granted the wisdom, patience, and strength to guide them with love rather than force, with connection rather than control.
But prayer alone is not enough. Understanding is just as essential. Adolescents are not merely acting out—they are navigating a world that is shifting beneath their feet. Their struggles are real, and if we fail to grasp what they are experiencing, we risk making choices that drive them further away rather than drawing them closer.
This stage of life demands more than discipline—it demands insight, empathy, and a new set of tools. When we take the time to truly see, hear, and understand our children, we gain the ability to reach them where they are, not where we wish they would be. And that, more than anything, is the foundation for guiding them toward growth, resilience, and their own personal connection with Hashem.
But how do we accomplish this? How can we maintain authority without losing connection? How do we ensure boundaries without creating distance? These are the questions that will guide our discussion.
Parenting Tools: The Limits of the Hammer
There is a well-known saying: “When the only tool you have in the toolbox is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail.” This wisdom speaks volumes about parenting. When raising young children, a firm and authoritative approach—a “hammer”—can sometimes be necessary. Clear boundaries, immediate consequences, and direct discipline help shape behavior and instill basic values.
However, adolescents are not nails, and their struggles cannot be hammered into submission. When parents attempt to discipline teens the same way they did when their children were younger—by exerting more control, tightening the rules, and enforcing stricter punishments—it often backfires. Instead of compliance, it leads to resistance, secrecy, and rebellion.
Imagine trying to tighten a delicate screw with a hammer—it doesn’t fit, and the more force you apply, the more likely you are to strip the grooves or even break it completely. So too, the adolescent soul. Despite their outward defiance, teenagers are often grappling with internal struggles—self-doubt, emotional turmoil, and the need to establish their identity. What looks like rebellion is often a desperate search for belonging, understanding, and self-worth.
A Real-Life Example
Consider a 15-year-old who starts withdrawing from family conversations. A controlling response might be:"Why are you ignoring us? You’re being rude!"
A connection-based response could be:"I’ve noticed you’ve been quiet lately. Is everything okay? Let’s talk about what’s going on."
By shifting from criticism to curiosity, we invite them to share instead of shut down.
A hammer may force compliance, but it cannot nurture growth. And at this stage, growth, not control, is what our children need most.
Beyond Discipline: Understanding the Adolescent Mind
When it comes to guiding adolescents—especially those who are struggling—the most effective tools are not authority and discipline alone. While structure and boundaries have their place, the heart of adolescent education lies in a completely different approach: connection, trust, and understanding.
Adolescence is a time of immense internal struggle. Teens are navigating identity, peer pressure, emotional turbulence, and an intense need for independence. When they begin to pull away, take risks, or make poor choices, our instinct as parents may be to tighten control—to push harder, enforce stricter rules, or discipline more severely. But just as hitting a fragile object with force only shatters it, a purely disciplinary approach often causes more harm than good.
We see a parallel in the plague of frogs in Egypt: the more Pharaoh struck them, the more they multiplied. Force often fuels defiance. When we attempt to suppress a teen’s struggles with punishment alone, their resistance grows stronger. They may shut down emotionally, withdraw from communication, or find ways to rebel in secrecy.
Instead of reacting with force, we must lead with belief. Even when their behavior seems reckless or defiant, their heart remains pure. Beneath the surface, they want to be seen, understood, and accepted. Our greatest challenge, and our greatest opportunity, is to look beyond their actions and nurture their essence, showing them that they are valuable not because of what they do, but because of who they are.
This need for patience and belief in our children is not a modern idea—it is embedded deeply in the wisdom of Torah itself.
Addressing Parents’ Fear of Losing Control
Many parents reading this may wonder:
“If I replace discipline with connection, won’t my child take advantage of me?”
“How do I balance boundaries with trust?”
It is crucial to clarify that connection is not permissiveness. Choosing to build trust does not mean letting go of rules, expectations, or accountability. Rather, it means shifting from a model of control to a model of guidance.
Boundaries still exist, but they are clearly communicated, reasonable, and built on mutual respect. Instead of focusing on imposing power, we focus on influencing through relationship. Teens who feel emotionally secure are far less likely to challenge boundaries destructively because they see them as acts of care rather than acts of control.
When adolescents feel respected, valued, and safe, they internalize discipline as self-discipline, learning to make wise choices not out of fear, but out of their own moral compass.
In this way, parental authority is not weakened—it is strengthened, because it is rooted in trust rather than fear.
Lessons from Parshat Teruma
This week, we read Parshat Teruma, where Hashem instructs Moshe to oversee the construction of the Mishkan—the sacred dwelling place of the Divine Presence. At the heart of the Mishkan stood the Aron (Ark), the vessel that housed the Luchot HaBrit (Tablets of the Covenant) and symbolized the centrality of Torah in Jewish life.
Upon examining the text, two striking anomalies emerge:
1. A Change in Command – Throughout the Mishkan’s construction, Hashem uses the singular command "ועשית" (“And you shall make”). However, when it comes to the Aron, the plural form "ועשו" (“And they shall make”) is used. Why the shift?
2. The Double Gold Coating – In Pasuk 11, Hashem commands: “You shall cover it with pure gold, from within and from without shall you cover it.” Why is the instruction repeated? Why does the Aron, more than any other vessel, require gold both inside and out?
At first glance, these details may seem minor, but they hold profound lessons about Torah, personal growth, and the way we relate to our children and students. By exploring these nuances, we uncover timeless wisdom about spiritual development, self-authenticity, and our role in nurturing the next generation.
The Symbolism of the Aron and Parenting
The Ramban, citing Rabbi Yehuda Ben Shalom, explains that the use of the plural form "ועשו" (“And they shall make”) in reference to the Aron teaches that Torah is not the domain of a select few—it belongs to everyone. Each individual, regardless of background or ability, has a personal connection to Torah and a role in upholding it.
The Kli Yakar expands on this idea, emphasizing that not everyone is able to dedicate their entire day to Torah study. However, each person can contribute in their own way—whether through financial support, emotional encouragement, or communal involvement—much like the partnership of Yissaschar and Zevulun, where one tribe devoted itself to learning while the other supported them. This teaches that we all have a stake in Torah; no contribution is too small.
The construction of the Aron itself reinforces this idea. Unlike the other Mishkan vessels, which were made of pure metal, the Aron was built from wood, overlaid with gold. Wood symbolizes growth, flexibility, and potential—just as a tree bears fruit in its own time, so too, each individual, each child, and each soul develops at its own pace.
This is a powerful parenting lesson. Our role is not to force our children into a rigid mold, but rather to nurture their growth, providing the right conditions for them to flourish. Just as a gardener does not yank on a sapling to make it grow faster, we must guide our children with patience, encouragement, and belief in their potential.
By seeing our children as trees rather than statues, we shift from a mindset of control to one of cultivation—fostering their unique strengths, allowing them to grow in their own way, and ensuring that their connection to Torah and their identity is one that feels personal, meaningful, and deeply rooted.
The Double-Layered Gold: Seeing the Inner Worth of Our Children
The double-layered gold covering of the Aron imparts two profound lessons—both essential in parenting and personal growth.
The first lesson teaches that true holiness begins from within. Hashem commands that the Aron be coated with pure gold both inside and out, emphasizing that external righteousness is meaningless without internal integrity. This is especially relevant in parenting, as children are highly attuned to authenticity. They do not merely listen to what we say—they watch how we live. If we want our children to internalize values, we must embody them ourselves.
A parent who preaches kindness but reacts with anger, who teaches honesty but bends the truth, who demands respect but offers none in return—risks losing their child’s trust. Adolescents, in particular, are quick to detect hypocrisy. If we want them to value Torah, resilience, and self-respect, we must live those values genuinely. We must walk the walk, not just talk the talk.
The second lesson is even more vital: Just as the Aron had to be covered in gold both inside and out, so too must we “cover” our children in gold—not just in what we see on the outside, but by recognizing the preciousness within.
Teenagers, especially struggling ones, often feel insecure, lost, or unseen. They need to know they are valued—not for their achievements, but for their essence. Instead of focusing on their mistakes, we must focus on their potential. Just as the gold coating of the Aron did not change the wood inside but rather elevated it, our role as parents is to elevate our children through love, belief, and encouragement.
Criticism and discipline have their place, but true transformation happens when a child feels valued. Encouragement, trust, and a deep-seated belief in their worth nurture self-esteem in ways that discipline alone never can. When we see the gold within them—even when they cannot see it themselves—we give them the strength to rise to their own greatness.
May we all strive to see and reflect the gold within our children, allowing them to shine in their own unique way.
Gentleness Over Force: Lessons from the Mishkan
The construction of the Mishkan and the Beit HaMikdash followed a striking rule: no hammers, no iron tools, no harsh force (Rashi, Shemot 20:22). The holiest place on earth was built with deliberation, precision, and quiet reverence—not with loud banging or aggressive force.
This teaches a powerful lesson: true sanctity is not forged through coercion, but through gentleness. If even Hashem’s dwelling place required a careful, delicate approach, how much more so the human soul—especially the soul of an adolescent.
The adolescent soul is sacred, yet fragile. Like an unfinished sanctuary, it is still under construction—full of potential but easily damaged by harshness. While it may seem turbulent on the outside, inside, it longs for connection, belonging, and understanding. If we attempt to shape it with force—through excessive discipline, anger, or rigid control—we risk shattering what is most precious.
Instead, we must build our children the way the Mishkan was built: with patience, with care, and with the understanding that growth takes time. A sanctuary is not constructed overnight, nor is the heart of a child. When we replace force with faith, criticism with compassion, and control with connection, we create an environment where our children can thrive—not out of fear, but out of a genuine desire to become who they were meant to be.
Like the Mishkan, every child is a dwelling place for holiness. Our role as parents is to help them build that inner sanctuary—not by hammering them into submission, but by guiding them with love so they can become a home for their own divine light.
The Power of Connection: The Baal HaTurim's Insight
The Baal HaTurim highlights a profound truth about the adolescent soul: it must be connected to something. It cannot exist in a vacuum. A teenager will either anchor themselves in meaningful relationships or drift toward external influences that may lead them astray.
The Torah presents us with two contrasting paths. Mishlei (22:15) states, “Foolishness is bound up in the heart of youth”—indicating that without proper guidance, a child’s natural inclination may lead them toward impulsive, harmful choices. On the other hand, in Bereishit (44:30), we see the ideal alternative: “And his soul is bound with his soul.” This verse describes the deep, unbreakable bond between Yaakov and Binyamin—a connection so strong that it became a source of life itself.
This insight is critical. If a child lacks a strong parental bond, they will inevitably attach to something else—whether it be friends, social media, toxic relationships, or destructive behaviors. Every adolescent is searching for identity, validation, and belonging, and if they do not find it at home, they will look for it elsewhere.
As parents, we are the vaccine and the cure against negative influences. A child who feels seen, valued, and emotionally safe at home will not need to seek that validation in unhealthy places. Trust, love, and open communication are not just nice additions to parenting—they are the foundation upon which a child’s emotional and spiritual well-being is built.
We must actively work to bind our souls with theirs—through patience, deep listening, and unwavering support. When they know they have a home that accepts them, guides them, and believes in them, they will be far less likely to seek belonging in places that cannot truly sustain them.
Connection is not just a parenting strategy—it is the lifeline that keeps our children anchored, resilient, and strong.
Conclusion: Parenting with Love and Patience
In today’s world, discipline without connection often leads adolescents to hide, deceive, or build walls of emotional distance. A hammer may enforce temporary compliance, but it also fosters secrecy, avoidance, and resentment. True growth, however, does not come from control—it comes from empowerment, trust, and unwavering love.
When teens feel seen, valued, and safe, they no longer feel the need to rebel simply to be heard. They become more open to guidance, not because they are forced to comply, but because they trust the hand that leads them. Our goal is not to break their independence, but to strengthen their resilience. Not to demand respect, but to earn it through love, patience, and belief in who they can become.
As parents, mentors, and educators, may we learn to see past their struggles and into their souls—to approach them not with judgment, but with compassion, wisdom, and faith. May we become their source of stability, encouragement, and hope, ensuring they never feel alone on their journey.
Just as the Mishkan was built with devotion, precision, and love, so too must we build our children—with gold both inside and out, with unwavering belief, with endless patience, and with love that cannot be broken. When we choose to see the gold within them, even when they cannot yet see it themselves, we help them uncover their own divine spark.
And in doing so, may we guide them not just toward growth and healing, but toward their own deep and personal connection with Hashem. May the light we nurture within them today shine for generations to come, illuminating the world with strength, faith, and boundless love.
Have a Wonderful Shabbos!!!
Yaakov Lazar,
Executive Director, Kol Haneshamot
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