25岁方成年.docVIP

25岁方成年 　　 　　My 22-year-old daughter， Emma， waved goodbye to her college campus last spring and walked into1） a job this fall. Given the still-tepid2） state of the economy and all the stories―in the news and from friends―about recent graduates who can’t find work， you might well imagine that my husband and I are thrilled. And we are. Sort of. 　　Emma’s job is a good one， and she is lucky to have it. She is an editorial assistant at a well-respected magazine. But it is the kind of job that countless millennials are landing these days： part-time， low paying， with no benefits. 　　So， after we spent nearly a quarter of a million dollars on her college education， one thing has become clear： Our investment in our daughter’s future is far from over. 　　We are hardly alone： Across America， 25 is the new 21. 　　In his recently published book， Age of Opportunity， Temple University psychologist Laurence Steinberg reports that today’s 25-year-olds are 50 percent more likely to be receiving financial assistance from Mom and Dad than the 25-year-olds of their parents’ generation. 　　For twentysomethings， this is just one part of a larger phenomenon that is also marked by a growing propensity3） to stay in school and remain unmarried for much longer than prior generations. Adolescence， according to Steinberg， now stretches over a 15-year span， beginning at age 10 and ending around 25; that’s more than twice as long as during the 1950s. This may not be a bad thing. Steinberg’s research suggests that putting off adulthood can have certain benefits in terms of brain development and mental health. 　　For the parents of twentysomethings， though， this delay often comes at a decided4） cost. Take our family， for instance： Emma is earning $12 an hour at a 30-hour-a-week job. Her take-home pay5）， after taxes， is $1，235 a month. Meanwhile， her total monthly expenses hover around $2，000. This includes the cost of a basement room she’s renting for $500， food， clothing， gas and maintenance on h