The concept of “coming-of-age” has always been somewhat interesting to me. Whenever discussing coming-of-age, the first thing that comes to mind would probably be the plethora of youth-oriented, high-spirited films that center around the topic. My favorite film from this genre would be “Moonrise Kingdom” directed by Wes Anderson. These depictions of teenage angst through film usually show semi-idealized images of youth and growing up. For 13-year-old me, this would be his concept of “living life”—going on whatever adventures thrill-seeking teenagers do, taking late night drives (like “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”), and finding love, loss, and life during one’s youth. I also think of music whenever I think of coming-of-age. The soundtrack of my teenage years so far has been songs from Clairo, Tyler, the Creator, Lorde, and tons of other artists, many underground or indie artists. Songs like “Supercut” by Lorde, “Bags” by Clairo, and “Robbers” by The 1975 have all been tagged under a certain, specific subset of indie music reminiscent of coming-of-age.
Recently, the concept of coming-of-age has fallen under scrutiny, and I partially believe, rightfully so. The upper/middle-class, America-centric model of coming-of-age so prevalent in mainstream media may be unattainable, especially for teens who do not have the privilege to live in the conditions previously mentioned. Despite this, however, the raw essence of coming-of-age is something so unique to me as it is unique to everyone else—for example, the American teenage dream 13-year-old me idealized is an image of coming-of-age I’ve detached myself from now; for others, that same image may be something they gravitate to up until this day. The teenage experience truly varies across different sectors, race, class, gender, and sexuality. Other factors such as time period and external events may also impact growing up, too—being a teenager amidst the social, political, and environmental upheaval of the 21st century is truly an experience to behold.
If I were to be asked, I do believe in the concept of coming-of-age; maybe not the type of coming-of-age seen in films such as “The Breakfast Club” or “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” The coming-of-age I believe in is the idea of the youth’s restlessness. It is in the youth’s nature to be restless and expanding—a byproduct of their growth. Restlessness comes with tranquility; I find that every coming-of-age story, whether fictional or factual, depends upon the quest to achieve one, the other, or both of these things. The raw essence of coming-of-age lies not only in the restless, dynamic moments of one’s youth or its tranquilness and mundanity—it is the fight, the search, and the goal to reach either a balance or imbalance of both.
I would like to put forward my collection of coming-of-age memories as a testament to this.
For example, the seemingly mundane tricycle rides I’ve taken from my school to the mall with my friends have been memories I’ll forever cherish. There’s just something about the wind billowing through your bowl-cut hair as you stick your head out of a moving tricycle to the shock of everyone else, or reuniting with one of your grade school teachers while on the tricycle and she pays for your group’s “pamasahe.” That I especially remember—the existential bliss that came over me after that instance was truly unforgettable.
Large events such as parties or concerts belong in my stash of coming-of-age memories as well; whether it be how, after the first debut I attended, I had what was one of the most important entrance exams of my life, or after our junior high grad ball when my friends and I were walking around and about wherever, or my friend and ex-crush and I having a heart-to-heart talk in front of a convenience store after a concert. Do not get me wrong—the large events themselves were also memorable; it is just that at times like those mentioned previously, you get to truly be restless amid tranquility.
Some of the most important events of my coming-of-age have been times of great achievement and sorrow; my first competitions, first events launched and headed under my junior high’s student council, my first published essay, and many more countless milestones. My first friendships, my endless amount of crushes, even the coming and going of said friendships. These have all served as the propellor of my coming-of-age; each act of restlessness whether good or bad pushed me further into maturity.
I think my idea of coming-of-age, this search and balance for tranquility and action, is one not many will agree on. My point is that at the end of the day, growing up and coming of age has no true standard. It is not only in media, film, literature, or art—it is living life, being full of life, being restless and tranquil.
Rafael S. Carasig, 16, is entering his junior year at the Ateneo de Manila Senior High School. His interests are writing, Philippine studies and politics, international relations, social studies, and coming-of-age films, to which he has his coming-of-age soundtrack playlist to romanticize his own life. Instagram: @rafacarasig.