Friday afternoon. It’s already the weekend, and many teenagers in Spain—including those in Sant Cugat—repeat the same routine: a brief trip to a supermarket to stock up on alcoholic beverages, soft drinks, and ice they can buy with their adult ID cards, then return home to shower and change, then arrange to “get something to eat” before the “botellón”  (bottle drinking) begins  (we naive parents often fund dinners that don’t exist because the money goes directly to the drinks).

That’s the plan: drink, drink a lot, go to the trendy club late, and return home when dawn breaks. A seemingly fun and exciting plan often hides emptiness, social pressure, and a worrying lack of self-esteem and attractive alternatives that prevent these teens from making other choices.

We should ask ourselves what kind of leisure activities our children are consuming and why they do so. Is it worthwhile to think that, perhaps, we made the same mistakes? Why does having fun have to entail degradation? Is it necessary for our children to have to resort to substances—alcohol or other intoxicants—to cloud their consciences until they blur the line between what is morally reprehensible and what is beautiful? How damaged is their self-esteem that they have to seek applause and recognition from strangers in the photos and stories they post on social media and among the furtive glances of strangers in the parking lot of nightclubs?

Perhaps much of the responsibility lies with us; as parents, do we know how to provide them with better spaces to meet? Do we organize ourselves as a group so they have the privacy they need?

Perhaps, then, for them, drinking in the street  —and “what follows” until dawn—is their best option for “living intensely” and letting their raging hormones run riot. Laughter, complicity, strong emotions, social recognition, individual exposure, flirting, music with spectacular sound, lights, lasers… Do we have any more attractive alternatives to offer them? I’m afraid, apparently, not.

And that’s the key, and here’s where the reader will feel uncomfortable: Have we chosen to justify our passivity and resignation in a thousand ways? Have we educated our children in the joy of ascetic struggle? Do they know from our example the satisfaction that comes with personal sacrifice for a higher purpose? Do they see in us examples of renunciation of hedonism and worldly passions?

We can’t expect pears from elms we planted ourselves!

The good news is that it’s reversible. We’re certain that prohibiting it won’t work, but we’re also not sure how to intervene. Well, perhaps a good way would be to start partying with them. But they have to be top-notch, full throttle, to surpass what we mentioned before: be it a great concert, a good play, a day at the racetrack, a game at the stadium, a great time at the amusement park; whatever, but to the fullest, with their friends as guests of honor, without filters and all expenses paid. In a big way, because that’s how they experience the night, and for their safety, for their physical, psychological, and emotional health, we must be their best bet for fun. “Come with my parents, they’re the fucking bosses, you’ll see!” they must say.

Let’s not let them jump into the void: let’s help them fill their fun with meaning.

Jordi Guirado Cabanas. Married and father of three children. Teacher at Xaloc School.