Dear Ann Landers,
You are locked up in a cage, surrounded by killers and thieves. Jail food is horrible. You can eat it or go hungry. You are watched carefully and strip-searched often. You will probably be homosexually raped by sex-starved criminals. Little conflicts will become life-and-death matters. You will learn every trick in the book from the real "experts"-which will make it tempting to return to a life of crime when you get out. -Once released from prison, you will discover that ex-cons can't vote, enter the military or hold public service positions. Few ex-cons can find a decent job. The police will knock on your door first if a crime is committed in your neighborhood. Even if you are not guilty, you will get panicky every time you hear a siren, wondering if they are coming for you. If you have a potential jailbird at your house, the next time he or she gets in serious trouble, try this punishment: Lock the teenager in his or her room with nothing except a blanket and a chamber pot from Fri-day night to Monday morning. Feed him a rotten meal. Convey the message that this is very much like solitary confinement in most reform schools or juvenile detention facilities in almost every state. If this sounds cruel, let me assure you two days in "jail" at home is a lot easier to take than five years in prison. -Caring in Chicago Dear Caring: You lose. Here's your letter and I am willing to bet not a single editor will censor a word of it. Thank you for telling it like it is. The following is a letter from a parent to a daughter or son. I hope my teenage reader's will realize that it's especially for them. My Darling Daughter (or Son): Ever since you were a baby, know-ing where you were meant knowing you were safe. You grew from The II t s e he Ah L a hi e ii s I 133 being safe in the house to being safe in the yard, on the block, in the neighborhood and now in the whole world. Knowing you are safe is still my major concern. Remember when you were little and came home from school and I wasn't there? You called all the phone numbers you knew. When I finally got home, you said in your most grown-up voice, "Where have you been?" You weren't meddling, you were frightened. When you didn't know where I was, your security was threatened. I don't mean to be nosy. I want to give you as much freedom as pos-sible. But the only way I can do this is if I know where you are and when you'll be home. My responsibility for you will end one day, and my insecurity will also be gone. In its place will be confidence and love. Asking where you are going and when you'll be home is mom-talk. It really means, "I love you, and I hope you'll be safe." Your answer, translated from child-talk, means, "I love you, too." -Your Mom

Dear Mom,
You've expressed the thoughts of millions of parents of teenagers today, and I thank you.