I'm Trevor Barrett, a construction manager and dad to 16-year-old Jaden. Last November, everything seemed normal—Jaden was crushing it on the varsity basketball team, keeping his grades up, hanging with his teammates after practice. I trusted him completely. But one Friday night, I noticed him glued to his phone during dinner, typing fast and laughing nervously. "Just the guys planning weekend stuff, Dad," he said without looking up. Something in his tone felt off. The next morning, he asked to borrow the car to "meet up with friends." When I asked where, he got defensive. "Why do you need to know everything? God, Dad!" That's when I knew something wasn't right.
Meet the Barrett Family Story
One alert prevented a lifetime of regret—how detecting hidden drug slang protected my son's future
Our Family's Struggle
Challenge
It started after basketball season kicked off in October. Jaden joined the team's WhatsApp group—15 guys talking practice times, game schedules, inside jokes. Normal stuff, I thought. But by mid-November, his behavior changed. He'd check his phone constantly, disappear to his room right after dinner, and laugh at messages he wouldn't explain. One Saturday, I overheard him on a call: "Yeah, man, sounds good. I'll let you know." When I asked what that was about, he snapped. "Nothing, Dad. Just hanging out. Can I have some privacy?" The edge in his voice scared me. He'd never been secretive before. His grades stayed solid, so I tried to convince myself it was typical teenage independence. But my gut screamed otherwise. I wanted to respect his space, but something felt dangerous. I just couldn't figure out what, and asking him only pushed him further away.
Solution
My coworker's brother is a school resource officer. He told me about FamiSafe and recommended I add custom keywords—drug slang kids use now. I set it up that Sunday: "420," "plug," "gas," "loud," "cart," "try something." Within two days, alerts flooded in. Jaden's basketball group chat was full of it—"who's got the plug," "trying that loud tonight," "gas at Mike's Friday." Then a private message: "Yo Jaden, you coming? Try something new, bro. Don't be scared." My blood went cold. I sat him down that night at the kitchen table. "Jaden, we need to talk. No judgment. Just honesty." I showed him the messages. His face went pale. "Dad, I swear I haven't done anything. They've been asking, but I kept saying no." We talked for two hours—about peer pressure, consequences, his future. I contacted the school counselor Monday morning. They held a team meeting about substance use. Jaden distanced himself from those guys, found new friends who actually cared about basketball. Three months later, he made All-Conference. "Thanks for not giving up on me, Dad," he said after the awards ceremony.