Resurrecting Rites of Passage in American Culture

The extended gray area of adolescence is causing a crisis for us young adults

One of the interesting things I learned in a cultural anthropology class I took last summer was the importance in every culture of rites of passage—ceremonies or cultural activities that mark big life changes. Some American ones we are familiar with are marriages, baptisms, or graduations. Rites of passage are interesting because they don’t leave any gray area. For example, you walk into wherever you’re getting married single, and after a ritual, you walk out married. These rites of passage are important for forming our identities. But what about the rite of passage between childhood and adulthood? Adolescent rites of passage can be summed up in three distinct points:

(a) separation from one’s old status as “child”

(b) a marginal or transitional state during which neither past nor future statuses or roles easily apply and the individual is transformed mentally and emotionally either by formal, socially-prescribed rituals or by a more informal, socially-derived set of experiences

(c) reintegration into society as an adult member with new rights and responsibilities

Cultural anthropologists, I learned, have observed a lack of a formal adulthood rite of passage in modern American culture. There are many informal transitions that slowly accumulate and add another layer of adulthood, such as prom, getting a driver’s license, turning 18, turning 21, voting, going to college, etc. Maybe the closest formal rite of passage is high school graduation? But let’s face it, eighteen year olds that walk out with a high school diploma are still perceived as kids. The lack of a clear rite of passage for adulthood makes it so America has the strange phenomenon of an extended gray area between childhood and adulthood. This is the source of a lot of anxiety and confusion. As a twenty year old, I can speak for myself and my peers that this period of our lives is a confusing tangle of being perceived (internally and externally) both as a child and an adult. Sometimes we are expected to have it all together and take responsibility and charge. Sometimes we’re asked “what do you know? You’re just a kid.” When we don’t know what we’re doing for the rest of our lives or change our majors in college, we’re adults who need to get our acts together. When we protest for Palestinian families being murdered with U.S. weapons and aid, suddenly we’re back to being kids who don’t know what we’re talking about.

When do we become adults? There is no clear line. This was the source of so much confusion in my own life. I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t know if I was a child or an adult, I didn’t know if I was ready to be an adult yet. I felt like I still needed to figure out who I even was—and you’re asking me to make decisions now that will result in what I do for the rest of my life? What if I’m wrong? What if I change my mind? What if what if what if.

Then I went on a journey. With some hesitation, I decided chance to study at the Oregon Extension in the fall of 2023 and flew out to the west coast. It was the first time I traveled alone. It was the first time I uprooted in such a dramatic way. I spent four months in the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument, away from the noise and distractions of modern life, without my phone or any service for large swaths of time. At the end, I emerged feeling like I had crossed that threshold. I emerged feeling like I had new vision for my life, and a clear purpose. Obviously, not everyone else immediately made the switch to perceiving me as an adult. But I made the internal switch, and that makes all the difference.

I feel so lucky to have had a rite of passage. But it has opened my eyes to the desperate need for young adults floating in the gray of adolescence to withdraw from society for a set time and discover their vocation, discover their identity. Most cultures understand this. Many indigenous cultures had “vision quests”¹ that involved withdrawal from the society, solitude in the wilderness, and emergence as adults with a clear vision for their life. Other cultures have physically demanding challenges that force young adults to reach deep into themselves and come out with a renewed sense of self. The way I see it, becoming an adult is not so much a forging a new identity as it is discovering an identity that was already imprinted on one’s soul by a Creator that placed you here, in this time and place, for a reason. This is why it is so necessary to withdraw and clear the noise away. It’s nearly impossible to reach down and find this imprint amidst all the noise and pressures of a society both asking you to grow up already and to sit down, kid. Some people never find that calling and live their lives doing what society tells them they should do, working unfulfilling careers and having families they never really wanted. Hence the midlife crisis, when these individuals wake up to realize they never did what they really wanted to and they had better try and squeeze it all in before they kick the bucket.

After finding that soul imprint, I spent the last couple weeks in Oregon stressing that the minute I returned, that identity would vanish. The (paraphrased) words of one of the residents the last night I was there echo in my head: You can’t lose that self you found here, because it wasn’t a new person. It was who you always were. That is what the rite of passage is, in my mind. It’s withdrawing to discover an authentic self, a self that was always there, and then return with a clear vision of what responsibility that self has in the world. It’s no coincidence that all of the great spiritual leaders—Jesus, Muhammad, the Buddha, Confucius, the prophets of Israel—withdrew from society before starting their ministries. It is important to note that they didn’t stay withdrawn, instead they came back from the wildernesses and mountaintops in order to live out the visions they received; in order to teach what they had learned. It is not enough to simply withdraw from society on an eternal quest of seeking. And it is not enough to remain in society and never deeply ponder one’s soul imprint through a rite of passage.

We must resurrect formal rites of passage that involve withdrawal and the discovery of vision in modern American culture. The crisis of mental health among young people, the aimlessness with which we wander, the cynicism we hold of a world burning (without helping to put out the fire!) are all flashing lights on the dashboard indicating that a change is needed. If you are a young adult reading this, I highly encourage you to not wait around for our culture to reconstruct a formal rite of passage. Go make your own, if you can.

Lastly, I recognize that this withdrawal from society is a privilege denied to many. In a capitalist economy, withdrawing is nearly impossible for the poor who must be deeply entrenched in society with multiple jobs just to afford to keep living. For those who cannot go on an extended period of withdrawal, I suggest small rebellions against involvement—deleting social media accounts, spending intentional time alone with God, finding pockets of nature to enjoy, and technology fasts. As someone who had the privilege to get a formal rite of passage, I see it as a gift that I was unworthy to receive, and something that must be shared with others. My hope is that one day everyone can experience a formal rite of passage into adulthood. It would produce a society of more grounded, spiritual, responsible adults who feel up to the task of confronting the day’s greatest struggles. Let’s resurrect the formal rite of passage: our young people floating in the confusing and anxiety-inducing gray of adolescence need it desperately.

me undertaking that rite of passage. just look at my joy! /j

and me at the end of the rite of passage. a physical change to represent a spiritual change: new hair. having an external change to symbolize an internal change was helpful for indicating to others and myself that i had undergone the rite of passage and was now Different.

1. I put this term in quotes because it is an English umbrella term for many different indigenous rites of passage. They bear resemblance, but clearly every tribe had a slightly different variation. Keep in mind this term has been culturally appropriated by many settlers with a “New Age” spirituality that rips from rich indigenous spirituality in shallow ways.