At 16 years old, I’ve already been driving long enough that I no longer feel the need to keep both hands on the wheel. I can legally marry in 42 out of 50 states and be tried as an adult in 13. I can get emancipated from my parents, drop out of school and pilot my own glider plane.
But when my friends and I attempt to stuff our pockets with QuikTrip candy and head into AMC to see “It”, our only options are to sneak in or go with a parent.
Sporadically placing these age restrictions as teens grow to “adulthood” creates an illogical order of laws. 15-year-olds who are still at the bottom of the high school food chain can operate a 4000-pound vehicle, but need to wait 11 more years until they can rent one.
In many other countries across the world, adulthood is streamlined into the age of 18. Everything is even — you are an adult when you turn 18. In the Netherlands, people slowly gain driving right until they can drive anywhere, drink and vote all at the age of 18. They get all the pros and cons of being an adult on their 18th birthday.
And if they abuse any of these, they can be tried as an adult. With this method, once kids turn 18, they have the right to be as independent or dependent as they want to be. They are trusted to make their own decisions and be held responsible for their own actions.
The logic behind these systems makes a whole lot more sense than our restriction in the U.S. I was able to drive myself to school freshman year, but I can’t go see “Joker” without my mom as a junior. I could celebrate my third wedding anniversary before I can pop a bottle of champagne. And an 18-year-old can openly carry a gun when just one year earlier, they couldn’t even get into that R-rated movie.
America’s varying age restrictions lead to a grey area in-between childhood and adulthood. One second I feel like an adult driving my babysitting kids to go see a movie, but then the sample lady at Costco still tells me I need to come up with a parent. When these rights aren’t given at the same time, teens are left in the middle of an awkward position in society — one where they are no longer kids, but don’t feel respected or trusted by adults.
If we were more like the Netherlands, and one age meant everything was officially legal for us, then this area would be eliminated. Eighteen would mean adulthood — and no more confusion.
Teenagers’ lives and the world that they grow up in are affected by policies made by politicians that they couldn’t vote for. Since I won’t turn 18 until two months after the 2020 presidential election, I need to wait until I’m 21 to vote for the president. And even by the time I’m 18 and can vote in local elections, my teenage years will almost be over.
Having a higher age on these restrictions doesn’t make our country safer — it makes teens more likely to rebel against them. Kids work around these age restrictions regardless and if these restrictions were changed, these illegalities would be more regulated.
In the United States, 11% of all alcohol is consumed by 12-to-20-year-olds, according to the National Institute of Alcohol Abuse. Higher drinking ages aren’t causing people to refrain from drinking, it’s making teens more likely to sneak beers into their basement with friends. Instead of going out to a bar and safely drinking around other people, college kids are secretly binge-drinking at parties and blacking out as if it was normal.
I still have more than a year until I can feel like at least half of an adult in this country, and in two months there will be no more sneaking into a rated R movie at Ward Parkway. But for now, I guess I’m stuck seeing “Frozen 2”.