As the parent of a college student, I can offer The L Word: Generation Q‘s Bette and Tina this firm advice: Never drop in at your child’s dorm unannounced.
Spoilers ahead.
Angie, Bette, and Tina
Bette and Tina’s daughter Angie doesn’t want to go to her creative writing class’s public reading. She was sleeping with teacher Samuel Hendrix (whom she met before she realized he was a teacher), and then got dumped by him. Last week, she smashed the window of his car in order to get back a gift she’d given him. She’d much rather hide in her dorm room than attend the reading, despite the urging of roommate Bella.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. Enter Tina and Bette without invitation, full of parental enthusiasm. They’re ready to attend and film the reading, and interpret Angie’s reluctance as nerves. Tina assures her she’s an amazing writer and doesn’t need to be nervous.
Bette tells her she was terrific in her high school productions. Angie responds, “I was a stagehand,” to which Bette says, “And it was memorable!” Bette is momming hard here, overhyping Angie’s accomplishments, but which of us parents hasn’t done that sometimes?
Tina and Bette then segue smoothly into mom-fussing, suggesting that Angie change and maybe take a shower.
Angie pulls them up short. “Guys,” she says, and they back off. I’ve had similar exchanges myself, too, I must admit—sometimes we can all interfere too much.
At the reading, the moms invite Bella to sit with them. Bette, unable to stop momming, offers Bella some candy, which she apparently keeps in abundance in her bag.
Shane, Angie’s chosen uncle/aunt, joins them. She knows Hendrix is Angie’s ex, but is unaware he’s her teacher. While her own relationship history should have taught her not to blurt out things about other people’s relationships, Shane blurts out, “That’s her ex.”
Bette and Tina ask Bella to clarify. Bella hesitates, effectively spilling the beans, so Tina goes Mama Bear, yelling, “Get away from my daughter! I’m talking to you, Professor!”
“Mom. Sit down. You’re making a scene,” Angie says desperately.
Later, Tina tries to lay on the mom guilt by telling Angie, “We trusted you to take care of yourself.” Angie shoots back, “I am taking care of myself.”
Bette wants to know why Angie didn’t tell them. Even Shane, non-parental confidante, cuts in to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Angie reasonably says, “Because I don’t owe you anything! It’s my f—-ng life!”
The moms try to explain how he took advantage of her. Tina is ready to get a condo next to Angie’s dorm to keep an eye on her.
One might expect Angie to explain that their relationship began before their teacher-student status, but all she can see now is red. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you anything. You’re all acting like f—-ng hypocrites. Like you’ve never fallen in love with someone that you shouldn’t?” she asks. Angie has clearly watched every previous episode of the show and its predecessor up until this season.
Angie walks away, complaining to Bella, “They just treat me like a kid.”
Bella hesitantly tries to explain to Angie that even though Angie told Hendrix it was okay, he still has “all the power.” Angie, however, doesn’t want to seem like a “kid who doesn’t know what she wants.”
Ah, the transition to adulthood. It’s a transition for both parents and our children. We parents need to let our children spread their wings. Kids need to avoid destructive ways of trying to prove themselves as adults. Very often, too, if parents don’t do the first part of that, kids will not learn the second.
“I feel like we’re losing her,” Tina says to Bette later. Bette agrees, adding with insight, “That’s exactly what she’s supposed to be doing right now.”
“I hate how it feels,” Tina says, speaking for many a parent.
Bette feels the same, but observes, “We want her to carve out her own path, right? And she’s ready. She’s so fucking smart. But it doesn’t matter how smart you are, because you’re going to f— up along the way.” That’s young adulthood in a nutshell. I just feel that Bette and Tina’s positions might have been better reversed here. Bette has long been a control freak, and it might have been more true to character if she had been the one to yell at Hendrix and to struggle with Angie spreading her wings. Or maybe this is the writers’ way of showing that her character has grown?
Either way, though, I enjoyed seeing the show poke gentle fun at us parents. Letting go is hard, but watching characters on TV muddle through it may help us be more aware of our own habits.
Finley and Carrie
Thank goodness, Carrie is still alive despite her heart attack last episode, and Finley still has her as a parental figure in her life. In this episode, however, we see Finley caring for Carrie, helping her get the doctor-recommended exercise she needs to improve her health. As Riese notes in her full recap at Autostraddle, it’s annoying that “the storyline for the only character on the show over a size 10 is about hating healthy food and exercising!” While I agree, I did like that over the past two episodes, the writers seem to be drawing a parallel between Bette and Tina struggling with letting their growing daughter go, and Finley finding someone to give her the parental guidance she never got from her real mom (even as she “parents” Carrie in turn on her road to health). At the same time, as Carrie develops a relationship with bowling teammate Misty, we also see Finley looking at ads for apartments, knowing that she, too, needs to leave the nest.
Whither will they fly? Stay tuned for the season finale.
Catch up on my other parenting explorations of this season’s LW:GQ:
