"The Privilege Of Youth": Dave Pelzer's Triumphant Story

I'll be the first to admit, I'm not much of a reader.

I used to be. One of the tools I used to escape three pretty crappy pre-adolescent years in Southfield, MI, was my library card, which I used to take out every book by S.E. Hinton and Judy Blume I could think of. As I got older, my interest in reading took a downturn. I'd generally only purchase a book if the title or subject matter caught my eye-which has pretty much limited me to an endless supply of pop-culture related books, everything by E. Lynn Harris and "Tuesdays With Morrie".

Standing in McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas, sweating out a three hour delay, I noticed a cover that caught my eye in several different stores. It showed a kid, probably in his mid-teens, sitting on a floor, leaning against a wall. He didn't look too happy. I looked at it, read the back cover, hemmed and hawed for a while (and through a couple of stores), and finally picked it up.

By the time the plane finally touched down hours later, I'd already read the book cover to cover. It's rare that the written word touches me to the point where I'm moved to tears, but Dave Pelzer's "The Privilege of Youth" did all that and more. It's a grown man's touching account of a hellacious childhood, focusing on some rather strenuous teenage years, and the struggle for acceptance, which Dave finally found on a street in a tightknit Northern California community. The bonds Dave made on Duinsmoore Way would go on to shape the rest of his life, as well as the lives of several others in that quiet community.

The book only briefly touches on Dave's first years of life. It pretty much starts as he's shuttered into the California foster care system at age 12, after years of abuse and neglect from an alcoholic mother and indifference from an equally alcoholic father. Dave doesn't touch on the specifics of the abuse much over the course of this particular book (except for mentioning a specific instance in which she made him swallow ammonia), but needless to say he was treated like less than an animal as a child. Once becoming a foster child, Dave incorrectly assumes that this distinction will bring him more stability. It's no dice in that regard, as he shuttles from foster family to foster family. In addition to this life of instability, the slightly built, somewhat nerdy Dave also has to endure constant harrassment and taunting from his peers at the various schools he attends over the years.

By his mid-teens, Dave is a lost soul. He's working a series of odd jobs to hoard money for the time he turns 18 and "ages out" of the foster system. He has no friends, no family, and he just wants to make it past 18 with a roof over his head and money in his pocket. After being assigned to another family, the Welshes, Dave finds his world changed after the family picks up and moves to the affluent Suburban Park section of Northern California.

Although it takes a while for the Duinsmoore Way community to warm up to the bumbling Pelzer (due to a series of typical yet hilarious teenage-adventure mishaps), Dave finds kindred spirits in two neighborhood kids, the goofy David Howard and the moody Paul Brazell, as well as finding two father figures in Paul's father Dan, and the colorful Vietnam vet Michael ("Sarge") Marsh. Dan Brazell comes off as the strong, silent, typically fatherly type, while Marsh comes across as a loveable blowhard, prone to windy free-associative narratives about the world at large. Marsh's know-it-all attitude and his Airborne Ranger experience makes him a hero to all three kids. The dialogue between Dave, Dave and Paul is occasionally a little strange in the "Dawson's Creek"-esque "kids don't really talk like that" kind of way, but that's minor detail, and I'm sure Pelzer doesn't really remember all of those conversations verbatim a quarter-century down the line.

The meat of the book alternates between Huck Finn-type teenage adventure (Dave gets a job as an auto salesman and proceeds to ruin a string of cars) and the disappointments that come with impending adulthood. Although the majority of the Duinsmoore community accepts Dave, there are still moments like when he gets his first kiss, only to be caught in the act by the girl's mother and being given an especially wicked lambasting. It's weird that I didn't realize it until then (I spent my teenage years with my grandmother in a house filled with foster children), but being a foster child in the late Seventies (when this book take place) carried a HUGE stigma.

As the story goes on, Dave switches foster homes again and heads out of the neighborhood, but has forged such tight bonds with the aforementioned members of the community that he winds up crashing with one or one of the others almost every weekend. As he closes in on his 18th birthday, he finds himself at a crossroads, wondering what he wants to do with his life. After informing his mentors Mike & Dan that he's dropped out of high school and is planning to move to Hollywood to be a stuntman, the two men deservedly chew a hole in his *ss, and officially knock some sense into Dave's head.

Before finishing the story, I've gotta say that this book resonated with me for several reasons. As someone who endured an abusive childhood, switched homes a couple of times and made the decision to find his own way in the world at a young age, there's a lot here I could relate to. Having been a pre-teen punching bag, I can also relate to Dave's need for real friendship and family, something that's come and gone in waves but I still find myself searching for on a regular basis. While the things I went through don't even come close to holding a candle to the absolute terror that was Dave Pelzer's childhood, I must say that I admire the way he didn't allow his past to determine his future. As I head toward another uncertain path in my life, this book gives me faith that I can make it through.

As the book comes to a close, Dave gets his GED, joins the Air Force, and finds himself physically leaving Duinsmoore for good. However, the lessons that the community taught him remain with him to this day, and he still maintains close ties to this neighborhood's series of friends and mentors. Dave Howard, his mother, and Michael Marsh all chime in at the end of the book with heartwarming remembrances and loving tributes to the man Dave Pelzer has become.

And what a man Pelzer has become. Someone who could easily have become just another statistic has turned into a decorated Gulf War vet, a loving father, and a caring soul who criscrosses the country lecturing about child-abuse awareness and prevention. What struck me most about Pelzer is that while he has gone on to achieve a great deal of success, there are still demons that remain. Prone to overwork, undernourishment, and a dependence on mental compartmentalization, Pelzer admits that there are chinks in his armor, something that strikes me as incredibly admirable in anyone writing what essentially amounts to a "self-help" tome.

As a book, "The Privilege Of Youth" is an engaging read. There were definitely parts of the book that made me smile with recognition, as well as some parts that made me wince with recognition. Pelzer's writing style practically sucks you into the story-it feels like you're reading someone's journal, yet you can almost see the stories display themselves on the movie screen in your mind.

"The Privilege Of Youth" was exactly what I needed to shake myself out of the pity I'd allowed myself to wallow in, and it also served as a reminder that the most important people in life are always those who make a personal investment in you and shape you into the person you become. I'll definitely be picking more of Pelzer's books in the future.