One of the more difficult aspects of adolescence to capture on film is the overwhelming ambivalence that is often a staple of teenage life — the grappling with general uncertainty as well as contradictory feelings, frequently quite intense, as one prepares to leave whatever nest their family of origin provides, and more proactively chart their own path forward. Both through its subject matter and framing, the documentary At the Ready, a world premiere at the 2021 Sundance Film Festival now enjoying a theatrical and VOD release, captures this mood with considerable sensitivity and insight, providing a fascinating look at the nexus of education, law enforcement, politics, and young adulthood.

Directed by Maisie Crow, the movie tracks a group of students at a high school in El Paso, Texas, situated roughly 16 kilometers from the United States-Mexico boundary, and their participation in a program called the Border Patrol Explorers. This organization is a criminal justice club that serves, through both after-school drills and law enforcement classes offered as part of the regular curriculum, as a pipeline for stable careers in border patrol, policing and customs enforcement.

At the Ready focuses predominantly on three Mexican American students. Recent graduate Cristina comes from a family very supportive of her chosen path, mainly for economic reasons. The daughter of a truck-driving single father, Kassy finds herself tabbed for a leadership position within the group. Meanwhile, Cesar, whose father has served time in prison for drug dealing, takes care of his little brother and aims to serve as a role model.

The film takes place over the course of roughly one year, against the backdrop of a contentious United States Senate race between Republican incumbent Ted Cruz and Democratic challenger Beto O’Rourke, as the issue of immigration is once again dragged out into the arena of public discourse to reliably whip up feelings of racial resentment and hostility. Through classroom debates and what they’re watching unfold with their own eyes, these teenagers begin to weigh how their choices may come into conflict with the lives of people they care about in their own communities.

At the Ready is most fascinating in its intersectionality. The way in which its story inherently abuts and incorporates various social issues makes a strong case for the interconnectedness of all things. In addition to its spotlighting of policing and immigration, there’s the surreal sight of students practicing active shooter drills and conducting room-clearing exercises as other classmates merely mill about. Later, one of the subjects comes to terms with their burgeoning sexuality and a change in identity which further informs how they view their time with Border Patrol Explorers. There’s even an instructor who, candidly admitting to suffering from PTSD and talking about how his job contributed to his divorce, wonders if he’s doing right by these kids.

Abetted by an engaging score from composer Adrian Quesada, Crow delivers a movie that feels extraordinarily timely yet not in a pushy or self-satisfied way. Its editing and construction sort of lead from the back foot, letting its subjects come to the questions it’s raising rather than separately pushing them upon viewers. Owing to this, At the Ready comes across as a more natural and honest exploration of self-identity than so many other achingly sincere yet artificially posed narrative fiction features.

Across a wide variety of industries, corporations are now coming to terms with the fact that many consumers want to spend their money on companies and products which have a social component — that is, are focused on advancing some moral or ethical good. Likewise, younger Millennials and members of Generation Z just entering the workforce are questioning, like never before, the values, both stated and actual, of businesses for which they choose to work. What is financial stability if one’s job runs counter to what they wish to see in the world?

At its core At the Ready is a tripartite coming-of-age story about the death of innocence. If that sounds depressing, it’s actually not. As its young subjects grapple with real-world messiness, there’s a touching beauty in watching them lean into these difficult questions and wrestle with rather than ignore them. The kids are all right — appropriately confused and unsure, perhaps, but all right.