Friday at 5:00pm, I received a call from my 12-year-old son telling me that he was at the barbershop with a bunch of his friends. This Friday was not any different from most Fridays when the kids traditionally walk to the downtown square in Decatur to hang out with their buddies after school. The exception to this day was that Peter called not only to check in with me but to ask if he could get a mohawk. My initial response was an emphatic “No”, but after listening to the urgency in Peter’s voice, my concession was that he could go ahead, but I would not pay. I relented because I realized that these 12-year-old boys are in the process of discovering who they are and trying to determine, as individuals, how they fit into their world. Getting mohawks as a group was symbolic of the brotherhood that exists between these boys; it was about doing something daring and different with the support from peers.