At Seventeen
Hearing Janis Ian sing "At Seventeen" on a repeat of SNL's first show last night took me back in time to someone who was a frightened little girl. I barely recognize her.
I watched the first episode of “Saturday Night” on NBC on October 11, 1975, in the company of the other dateless women in my all-girls college dormitory at Ball State University. Janis Ian sang “At Seventeen.”
The next day, I rode my blue bike three miles to a record shop on Tillotson Avenue in Muncie and purchased “Between the Lines,” an album I still have. I also later purchased the piano music for the album, which has several wonderful songs, including “Tea and Sympathy,” “In the Winter,” and “Light a Light.”
“At Seventeen” is Ian’s masterpiece. Not only is she a consummate performer, but she writes so well. When I first heard “At Seventeen,” I was an unhappy freshman with few friends and uncertain of my future. I had turned eighteen just a month before I left for college. I was immature, likely spoiled, and quite uninformed about the world, even the small world I saw at college just 90 miles from home.
The song spoke to me about the brokenness I felt, and when I heard it last night, I was immediately drawn to that young girl with the shag haircut. Thinking of her made me cry because she had no idea she would have a wonderful life, experience great love, friends, meaningful work, volunteer service, travel, and a comfortable home.
High school had been difficult for me, with many disappointments. And few people shared my interests. I often tried to be someone I was not. I wasn’t sure who I was. While I had two loving parents, both my mother and maternal grandmother had a mental illness, which could be challenging and left some scars. High school isn’t the greatest experience in life for most people, and it wasn’t for me.
I thought it would be more of the same when I started college. I couldn’t see past the next week, and despite being a smart cookie, I was always unprepared for the Next Big Thing (graduate school, job, marriage, motherhood, family deaths, transitions, etc.). I didn’t grow up until I was about fifty; I’m still a work in progress.
Remembering that 18-year-old girl in the Schmidt Hall lounge while listening to Ian’s flawless “At Seventeen” performance took me there. I wish I could talk to that girl and others like her who, for whatever reason, had no self-confidence or faith that the future could be better. “Just hang on,” I would tell her, “You will meet some people who will change your life in about two years. Your people. People who will always be with you.”
It is fifty years later, and I’ve lived through many things. I feel that my life has mostly been happy. Like other people, I’ve had tragedies and disappointments, but now, in my late sixties with its own specific challenges, I am happy and no longer that girl. That brunette girl with the shag haircut was lucky to find her way and her people and is filled with joy and grace.
-30-
Are you the same person you were at seventeen or eighteen?
I loved this article. Obviously I didn’t know you in HS but many of us had similar experiences. It’s always a life changing experience when we meet our people. So glad you found yours and happy that one of your people was put in a dorm room next to me my freshman year.
I’m motivated to get up every day just to see what new adventures await. Who would’ve known at 17, I’d be here now. I am a much better person than I was at 17. Only by the grace of God am I still alive. I still thank God for allowing me to survive my teens and early 20’s.
I was a mess at that age! And such a waste—remained pretty messed up despite all my efforts to change’ so i could feel good about myself & live an independent & contributive life… part of it was how very messed up my family was & the absorbed lessons and lousy role models i chose. A lot was lousy therapists—not always their “fault” but so little was known way back then about complex PTSD/emotional neglect & abuse in the family, narcissistic abuse & its expansive & longlasting negative effects on behavior & self-views, not to mention even more recent greater understanding in effective techniques for treating trauma clients, including NOT letting them/making them retell the story over & over, understanding the body/mind connection, teaching them the value of & how to foster more positive emotions & build helpful neural pathways, and so much more… Im glad i made it through all that gunk but feel so bad for our generation & the ones before that lacked so much knowledge, understanding, acceptance & self-compassion…❤️❤️