Jason Reid - Get Out of My Room!: A History of Teen Bedrooms in America

JASON REID

The University of Chicago Press

Chicago and London

The University of Chicago Press, Chicago 60637

The University of Chicago Press, Ltd., London

2017 by The University of Chicago

All rights reserved. Published 2017.

Printed in the United States of America

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ISBN-13: 978-0-226-40921-4 (cloth)

ISBN-13: 978-0-226-40935-1 (e-book)

DOI: 10.7208/chicago/9780226409351.001.0001

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Reid, Jason, 1974 author.

Title: Get out of my room! : a history of teen bedrooms in America / Jason Reid.

Description: Chicago ; London : The University of Chicago Press, 2017. | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2016027827 | ISBN 9780226409214 (cloth : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780226409351 (e-book)

Subjects: LCSH: Teenagers roomsUnited States. | TeenagersUnited StatesSocial conditions. | BedroomsUnited States. | TeenagersConduct of life. | Teenage consumersUnited States. | United StatesSocial life and customs20th century. | Self-realization.

Classification: LCC NK2117.T44 R45 2017 | DDC 747.7/70835dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016027827

This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.481992 (Permanence of Paper).

Id like to begin by thanking my parents, Wayne and Linda, and my brother, Jamie. They have been extremely supportive of my efforts, and, since I lived with them for the first nineteen years of my life, it perhaps goes without saying that they played a significant role in shaping my earliest experiences with teen bedroom culture.

Several of my peers in the history profession deserve recognition as well. Molly Ladd-Taylor, Marc Stein, Marlene Shore, and Leslie Paris gave me the guidance and tools necessary to produce a publishable (and hopefully compelling) work of history. The same can also be said of the two anonymous readers who went through my original manuscript and offered me invaluable advice on how to improve it. Similarly, Todd Webb, Alexis Lachaine, Peter Stevens, and Geoff Read deserve recognition for providing me with a wealth of encouragement and support. Indeed, their views on history and how it should be written can be found on nearly every page of this book.

Id also like to thank the dozens of people who were gracious enough to respond to my surveys and share memories and photos of their own bedrooms. Their firsthand accounts not only gave shape to my arguments; they also added a certain amount of flair and color to my work. In short, they were key contributors in my attempt to bring the teen bedroom to life.

Id be remiss if I didnt acknowledge the long list of friends who supported my efforts by simply establishing a warm presence in my life, including Rob Vandenbrink, Anthony Alviano, Brett Poirier, Catharine Ackert, Troy Robinson, Kim Wulterkens, Brent Jesney, Tim Packham, Isabel Matwawana, Sharlet Esho, Rob Worsoff, Scott Hutchinson, Kevin Mertens, Razmeen Joya, Marc Tinney, and Mike Graham.

Lastly, Id like to thank the various institutions that helped get this book published. Of course, I am forever grateful to the University of Chicago Press for agreeing to publish my work. I can safely say that its reputation as a world-class press is wholly deserved and that the people who work there have been nothing but friendly and helpful during this entire process. Id also like to thank the library staff at York University, the University of Toronto, and Ryerson University. Although the Internet has certainly had a profound effect on how scholars do research nowadays, we would be lost without the people who ensure that the old brick-and-mortar libraries run as smoothly as possible.

Given the somewhat personal and intimate nature of the topic at hand, Ill begin by confessing that I only began to contemplate the significance of my own teen bedroom once it was nearly wiped from existence. During my second year of university, I received a call from my mother explaining that she and my father were selling the house we had lived in for much of my teenage years. Though I was saddened at the prospect of not being able to spend one more night in my old shag-carpeted bedroom, I knew that my parents decision made perfect sense; my older brother and I were no longer living at home, and the new place was simply much better suited for two empty nesters like my parents. Unfortunately, I didnt get a chance to even see the new house before the ownership papers were signed. This bothered me somewhat, but I knew that my opinions on such matters would no longer be taken into consideration to the same extent as they were when I was still living at home. My parents, more importantly, seemed satisfied with their decision, even though they understood that their immediate future would be marked by a series of time-consuming renovation projects.

My first opportunity to see the new place arrived a few months later, when I came home for the summer. Situated on a double lot, the new house had a swimming pool in the backyard, a fully furnished basement rec room, and three bedrooms. The big shock came when I actually saw my bedroom for the first time. My parents had lived in the new place for only a few months, but already my mother had taken complete control of the room Id be sleeping in whenever I came to visit. The Metallica and Iron Maiden posters that had dotted the walls of my old bedroom were gone, replaced by a black-and-white picture of my father as a young man and a portrait of my eight-year-old self that had been drawn years earlier by a semi-talented caricaturist from Marineland. My collection of home electronics was gone too, including my color television set, my computer, my telephone, and my stereo. The clothes hamper I had used to hide an array of contraband goods was also nowhere to be foundalong with, presumably, any contraband that may have still been around when moving day arrived. Even my amazing queen-size bed had been dispatched with in record time, traded to a relative because it was too big to be carried downstairs. The new bed, a cozy double, was covered in flowery bedding; at its foot sat an old cedar chest that housed my mothers collection of quilts.

My new bedroom, in short, no longer belonged to me. I did not decorate it, I rarely spent time in it, and it was shamefully bereft of home electronics, save for a cheap clock radio that was tuned to an oldies station of my mothers choosing. Although my parents werent consciously trying to erase my presence from their newly purchased home, the somewhat jarring nature of the move got me thinking about how my experiences were part and parcel of what Sonia Livingstone, a media studies professor at the London School of Economics, dubs teen bedroom culturea decidedly Western phenomenon in which the sleeping quarters of youth are expected to assume a prominent role in socializing teens and shaping their identities. I recalled how, as a moody teenager, I would slink off to my room in order to hang out with friends, listen to music, do homework, or play video games without worrying about being interrupted by my parents or my brother. I recalled the time and energy I devoted to plastering the walls of my room with pinups and store-bought posters, many of which reflected my ever-shifting taste in music and movies. Lastly, I recalled the lengths to which my parents went in order to respect my privacy therefor example, knocking before entering and announcing their presence outside the doorwhile also recognizing that these rules were established in a somewhat informal manner. Im sure I complained mightily whenever my privacy was violated, but at no point did my parents and I sit down to formulate a basic set of rules that would govern social interaction in my room. We had an unspoken understanding, as though the sanctity of my bedroom was simply beyond debate.