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My daughter recently celebrated her 18th birthday. She was excited for all the reasons young people generally like crossing that threshold, the biggest among them being that they're just a bit closer to full-fledged adulthood. That doesn't stop a lot of them from living with their parents—or living off them—well into their late 20s, of course, but that's the mom and dad's fault.
On her 18th, my daughter shared with us all the things she was now permitted to do that only a day before she wasn't. It turns out that for as long as grown ups have been grown ups and kids have been kids, there've been all kinds of legal and private prohibitions for people under 18. Grown ups, aka "old people," place those restrictions not because we want to torture our children with oppressive rules (ok, maybe we do, but only because our parents did the same thing to us) but because we hope to protect them from harm. And from themselves.
At the moment, Americans are debating and discussing an issue never before imagined, let alone considered, in modern or pre-modern life: whether or not it should be legally permissible for children under 18 to have medical procedures categorized broadly as sex reassignment surgery.
Given the gravity—and permanency—of such surgeries and how little we know about their lasting benefits or harms, it's understandable that vast majorities of Americans want to prohibit such a thing.
For context, it's worth running through the long list of prohibitions and restrictions my daughter gleefully reported no longer apply to her under Mississippi and U.S. law (though mom and dad, buzzkills that we are, did point out that so long as she lives under our roof, an extra-legal set of rules—ours—exists that supersede all other laws but God's).
These are just 25 of the things (there are plenty more) my 18-year-old daughter could not do just days ago, that she can now do today—none of which Americans are presently raising hell about. And all of which pale in comparison to the gravity and life-altering nature of sex-change operations:
(1) Join the military without parental consent, (2) vote, (3) draft her will (rather macabre, but permitted), (4) buy a lottery ticket (a daughter can dream), (5) declare her independence and leave home (a daughter and her parents can dream), (6) buy and use tobacco products in some states, (7) give consent to medical care, (8) sell and buy real estate, (9) buy pornography or act in a pornographic movie, (10) become a notary public, (11) apply for loans (mom and dad will not be co-signing anything, so don't ask, dear), (12) run the New York or Boston Marathon (if you're like mom and dad, you'll never sign up for a 1K let alone a marathon), (13) operate a meat or deli slicer (a solid practical skill), (14) buy medicines like cough suppressants, (15) sue someone (hopefully not mom and dad), (16) sign a contract, (17) be called to jury duty, (18) open a brokerage account (we've recently shared with her what $1,000 invested in Berkshire Hathaway would be worth today if we invested in the stock decades ago and she's still mad at us that we didn't), (19) buy a pet, (20) adopt (we love the idea so long as it's a pet), (21) get married in any state (to a man who's gainfully employed with no serious prior arrests), (22) get a Costco card, (23) get tattoos, (24) pawn her belongings (which are mostly ours so that might prove difficult), and (25) bet on a racehorse (highly discouraged by dad because the track vigorish is obscenely high).
An additional—and quite serious—change in my daughter's new status has to do with adult responsibility and criminal behavior. In most states, crossing the 18-year-old threshold automatically subjects individuals to adult jurisdiction—though all allow juveniles to be transferred to adult court depending on the nature and severity of the crime.
My daughter still needs to wait three more years to enjoy the full privileges and rights of adulthood, including buying and drinking alcohol, going to a casino and renting a vehicle. But for now, she's quite content with the breadth of new freedoms she can enjoy if she chooses—and we consent.
It's clear that society has long cared about what kids under 18 can and can't do. The rules are formulated by adults with the interest of all of our kids in mind. And though we may disagree with some or all of these prohibitions as parents (my daughter is a pretty good blackjack player and I wish we could sit down at a table in Vegas and experience the thrill of a dealer on a cold streak), there is something we can do about it: call our elected representatives and get the law changed. I am sure my wife wouldn't be pleased if I take up the cause of lowering the legal gambling age—but that's my cross to bear.
The plain truth is that none of these laws or prohibitions have anything to do with bigotry and hate, and to accuse Americans of such things is itself hateful. Indeed, those laws and prohibitions have everything to do with love.
The rules and laws are enacted for the sake of young people. For their good. And society's.
Lee Habeeb is vice president of content for Salem Radio Network and host of Our American Stories. He lives in Oxford, Mississippi, with his wife, Valerie, and his daughter, Reagan.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
