Look, if there was any chance that you actually could effect positive change by micromanaging your child, then I wouldn’t say a word against your way of doing things. Honest. If, by swooping in, you could help your daughter in any way, I’d give you the thumbs up and leave you alone. I’d ignore that your kid may never learn to do anything without you when you’re doing everything for her. I’d overlook the psychological damage that comes from a child not being able to feel her own feelings, determine her own sense of self.
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I feel the same way about different kinds of crimes. If you were at least successful at robbing the bank, I would try not to ask you where you got the money. The problem is, you keep getting caught. Not only do you not get to keep that stack of large-denomination bills from the teller’s drawer, but you also keep ending up in jail. Not only are you smothering your child, but your child also isn’t learning anything. Your parenting is lose/lose.
So my narrower point for today is that “lawn mower parenting” (which has replaced “helicopter parenting;” where have you been?) is ineffective at every level. By hovering on top of your kids like white on rice, nothing good happens. Consider the following note to the teacher from the mother of a fifth grader.
“I note that Samantha received a 96 because the data table for her science project was incorrect. I helped Sam construct the data table from a template on my computer and I assure you that the table was correct. Please change her grade to 100 immediately.”
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Ignoring for a moment the glaring question of “whose assignment is this?” let’s talk about the 11-year-old. (Remember the 11 year-old?) Needless to say, this child is conflicted and distraught as her mother prepares to go to war. Mom will start grousing at the teacher, then go up the chain of command to bark at the school counselor, the principal, the local school board, the United States Department of Education, and ultimately the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. (Why NASA? Well, it was a science fair project after all.)
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Mom may win the battle; the grade may end up getting changed. But mom will lose the war. If the ultimate goal is to allow her daughter to learn how to accomplish on her own, then there has been no forward progress. Will Samantha ever learn how to advocate for herself? Will she be able to determine which issues are worth pursuing with a teacher and which should be left alone? Will she be able to accept herself for who she is, a kid who constructed her own data table and got a 96?
Not likely.
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Elementary school could be a time filled with the joy of learning. Elementary school should be a time filled with developmentally appropriate chances to grow and learn from missteps. Instead fifth grade is a hot mess of writhing anxiety and struggle. Mom writes nasty emails to teacher; mom screams at soccer coach; mom orchestrates every action and intrudes on every thought.
If I were a snarkier sort of author, I might be so presumptuous to suggest that mom has too much time on her hands.
Some things are worth fighting for. A 96 on a data table is not one of those things.
When stuff goes wrong at school, it’s helpful for your kid to know that she has someone at home to talk to. It’s helpful for her to know that someone has her back and will listen to her concerns. It’s helpful for her to know that there is someone with whom she can bounce around an idea and get some support. It can only make her nervous and scared to know that the process of problem solving is going to be taken out of her hands, that someone is going to fight the wrong battle for her in the wrong way.
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Listening and problem solving communicates, “I trust you and I know you can handle this.” Writing notes to the teacher, swooping in and messing everything up communicates, “You are not competent to do this on your own and besides, your grades are more important that your actually learning anything.”
What you communicate to your child is more important than whether she gets a 96 or 100 on her data table. What you communicate to your child is what you have left in the long lonesome years after the last of the grades has long since faded away.
8 thoughts on “Letting Go”
Absolutely WONDERFUL!
I’m guilty of it all! Our son is going to Mexico, and since we’ve never traveled internationally, we went over some important things like get to the airport 2 hours early, etc. We also reviewed safety rules such as protect your wallet, stay close to the resort & don’t drink the water!
One valuable piece of advice from FSU orientation was “If your child says they’ve got it handled, it’s going to cost you $500.”
And it’s true!! We have seen it all- late fees for tuition, textbook return/sell back, late rent, etc. Until they’re off the payroll, I’m going to micromanage a bit longer!!
In 1993, the year that I turned fifty, I started a summer camp for kids. We set the age range as 6 to 12, thinking that elementary school kids would probably be ready for a full day learning environment. The camp was successful, so one year we decided to have a special session just for five year olds. I vowed NEVER AGAIN!
Oh I loved working with the young kids. They were enthusiastic and eager to learn. But the moms drove me crazy! They would not leave, they insisted on telling us how to do everything. At one point, a mom stopped talking to me long enough to take the orange crayon out of her daughter’s hand. “The sky is supposed to be BLUE,” she explained, giving her daughter the correct color.
At one point, a mom stopped talking to me long enough to take the orange crayon out of her daughter’s hand. “The sky is supposed to be BLUE,” she explained, giving her daughter the correct color.
Best story I have heard, Kent. Can’t thank you enough for sending it along.
Yes we wonder why teachers and counselors are leaving the profession in droves.
🙂
I agree that the meddling moms have too much time on their hands – every child needs a little benign neglect. The child is embarrassed by the mom’s interference – but even worse, does not learn how to handle his/her own problems.
Beautiful essay. You are becoming eloquent!
It seems there is learning to be done in being/becoming a good/adequate parent.
What seems so obviously straightforward to the parent (because learned decades
ago) may be challenging to the child (who is encountering the situation for only the
first or fifth time). The path of no-learning lets the parent do what he/she already
knows; the more difficult path of learning requires the parent to help the child learn.
Given a choice between “solving a problem” (requiring learning) and engaging in a
complex learning situation, the lazy electron follows the path of least resistance.
(Sorry for the mixed metaphor jumping in there.)
Thanks for your eloquence in delineating the situation.
I must confess to having been that parent three decades ago. Then, I started working with kids and discovered that they all have to learn at their own pace and, if we stopped them from making mistakes, no learning occurs and they feel powerless. Do I wish I could take back my early parenting? You bet I do! But now I can make suggestions to help my grandchildren learn in their own ways. It also helps to see the signs of a lawn mower parent in my office and to gently dissuade them from following this path.
First semester I said, “Look I made honor roll again!”, having swooped in again at the last moment to sit on her and make sure she had gotten all her assignments done well and in on time. This semester, I finally got much better. I stayed out it entirely, only checking grades to ensure that if she was getting a D or F in any class, she would be grounded it until it was brought up and she had to figure out how to do so. No excuses.