I got a Facebook message last week from a friend of mine named “Robin”. Robin is in her late twenties, and recently started tutoring English to Spanish-speaking employees at a large business in her hometown. Knowing my posts about teacher-student relationships (and about age-disparate affairs), she wrote:
I speak Spanish fluently, so there are plenty of opportunities to build relationships with staff members who are not at this time conversant in English or interested in learning. But, it seems as though a new staff member has developed a more-than-passing interest in me. The trouble is not just that my student is interested in me, it’s that I have some pretty strong attraction to him, as well.
I have no idea how long I may be tutoring there. It could last several years or more. I also have no idea how long this particular individual may be studying English under my instruction. Even if he worked really hard and became conversational within a year (a remarkable feat!), he’d still likely be working at this company, and that could make things uncomfortable for the others if I decided to lower that boundary. I care about all of them very much; it’s more than tutoring; it’s ministry with these wonderful people. It’s much more clearcut when the rule is “Not until this person is out of my class/Not until this person has graduated.” How would I know in this case?
Two other considerations for if/when the student/teacher relationship is no longer a concern: Our age difference and the different cultures we represent. By the time there’d be license to ‘go for it’ he wouldn’t be as “Fresh Off The Boat” as he is now (two months). But, I’d still be 8 years older than him, which is a big deal considering that means he is 19 right now. Cultural differences won’t necessarily get less important as he ages and adjusts to living here in the States.
Or maybe he’ll do what most 19-year-old boys I know do, and he’ll have a new crush on someone else next week.
One key difference between Robin’s situation and that of other teachers who are romantically interested in their students is that Robin is teaching a skill for which no grade will be assigned. Her judgment in that sense isn’t compromised; there’s less worry that a relationship with this young man will damage either her integrity or that of the business for which she works as a result.
The age difference, of course, is real. 27 and 19 is a significant gap (much more so, developmentally, than 35 and 27). Add in the cultural and class differences, and you’ve got a number of signs that Robin should proceed with considerable caution. Robin doesn’t mention the fellow’s immigration status; if he’s undocumented, then his vulnerability is increased exponentially, as is his potential dependency upon her, another red flag. She should consider all of these factors before moving forward towards either a fling or a relationship with this 19 year-old.
That said, I’ve made it clear before that I’m less troubled by older women-younger men relationships than I am by older men-younger women affairs. (For a detailed explanation of that seeming inconsistency, see All age-disparate love affairs are not the same: why I prefer “cougars†to “silver foxesâ€. And for the record, though I loathe the term “cougar” in general, I think it’s a stretch to apply it to someone born when Robin was, in 1983!) And though Robin’s 19 year-old crush is younger and more economically and educationally vulnerable than she, I’m convinced that a relationship between the two of them would have less potential for exploitation than one would if the sexes were reversed. (Note I said less, not none.)
But perhaps the biggest reason for caution concerns Robin’s heart. Think of what the next two years will bring. Though it is to be hoped that we never stop growing and learning, the rate at which we transform tends to slow as we move into our late twenties. Robin will change less, in other words, between 27 and 29 than her potential paramour will between 19 and 21. Though it is far from the only or even the best reason for older folks to avoid love affairs with the under-25 set, the likelihood that the younger partner will change dramatically and lose interest as a consequence is very high.
I only had one serious relationship with a significant age gap, having generally (as I’ve written) preferred the romantic company of my near peers. When I was 32, I dated a 22 year-old whom I’d met at the gym. We were ten years apart; I was a year sober, she had just graduated from a small private college. She had a crush on me first; I was wary because of her age. I gradually fell for her, and we dated for about six months, living together for three. She ended up leaving me, which was crushing, giving me the perfectly valid reason that she’d changed so much in the six months we’d been together that the reasons she’d had for falling in love with me had disappeared. As much change as I was going through as a man in his second year of sobriety, Katie’s was greater. Fresh out of college, looking for a job, suddenly thrown out of her warm and safe network of friends, she’d been hungry for the stability that I apparently represented. Within a few months, on her feet and more sure of herself, our differences grew more stark in her mind. It was all terribly predictable.
Robin’s dilemma isn’t about professional ethics. It’s about human vulnerability. I don’t know what the right course is for her to take, and I am quite sure that if “something happens” with this younger man, things just might turn out very happily. But the potential for hurt, which is present in every burgeoning love affair, is enhanced by age, by maturity, and by class.






Part of the problem here is that relationships are complex, and there isn’t always a right answer. Or sometimes there are two or three right answers. Instead of just deeming certain relationships as “good” or “bad” (or “right” or “wrong”), it makes more sense to just acknowledge things to be wary of and potential obstacles you’ll have to tackle together. Yes, in extreme situations, obviously some relationships are just plain wrong, but most of the time, there are just added complications and potential dangers. As long as folks are aware of those, it’s up to them to decide what they want to do, and they often won’t find out what’s “right” or “wrong” until after the relationship is over.