How to raise successful kids -- without over-parenting

You know, I didn't set out
to be a parenting expert.

In fact, I'm not very interested
in parenting, per se.

It's just that there's a certain style
of parenting these days

that is kind of messing up kids,

impeding their chances
to develop into theirselves.

There's a certain style
of parenting these days

that's getting in the way.

I guess what I'm saying is,

we spend a lot of time
being very concerned

about parents who aren't involved enough
in the lives of their kids

and their education or their upbringing,

and rightly so.

But at the other end of the spectrum,

there's a lot of harm
going on there as well,

where parents feel
a kid can't be successful

unless the parent is protecting
and preventing at every turn

and hovering over every happening
and micromanaging every moment

and steering their kid towards
some small subset of colleges and careers.

When we raise kids this way,

and I'll say we,

because Lord knows, in raising
my two teenagers,

I've had these tendencies myself,

our kids end up leading

a kind of checklisted childhood.

And here's what the checklisted
childhood looks like.

We keep them safe and sound

and fed and watered,

and then we want to be sure
they go to the right schools,

but not just that, that they're in
the right classes at the right schools,

and that they get the right grades
in the right classes in the right schools.

But not just the grades, the scores,

and not just the grades and scores,
but the accolades and the awards

and the sports and the activities
and the leadership.

We tell our kids, don't just join a club,
start a club, because colleges

want to see that.

And check the box for community service.

I mean, show the colleges
you care about others.

(Laughter)

And all of this is done to some
hoped-for degree of perfection.

We expect our kids to perform
at a level of perfection

we were never asked
to perform at ourselves,

and so because so much is required,

we think,

well then of course we parents
have to argue with every teacher

and principal and coach and referee

and act like our kid's concierge

and personal handler

and secretary.

And then with our kids, our precious kids,

we spend so much time nudging,

cajoling, hinting, helping, haggling,
nagging as the case may be,

to be sure they're not screwing up,

not closing doors,

not ruining their future,

some hoped-for admission

to a tiny handful of colleges

that deny almost every applicant.

And here's what it feels like
to be a kid in this checklisted childhood.

First of all, there's
no time for free play.

There's no room in the afternoons,
because everything has to be

enriching, we think.

It's as if every piece of homework,
every quiz, every activity

is a make-or-break moment
for this future we have in mind for them,

and we absolve them
of helping out around the house,

and we even absolve them
of getting enough sleep

as long as they're checking off
the items on their checklist.

And in the checklisted childhood,
we say we just want them to be happy,

but when they come home from school,

what we ask about all too often first

is their homework and their grades,

and they see in our faces

that our approval, that our love,

that their very worth,

comes from A's.

And then we walk alongside them

and offer clucking praise like a trainer
at the Westminster Dog Show --

(Laughter) --

coaxing them to just jump a little higher
and soar a little farther,

day after day after day.

And when they get to high school,

they don't say, "Well what might I
be interested in studying

or doing as an activity?"
They go to counselors and they say,

"What do I need to do to get
into the right college?"

And then, when the grades
start to roll in in high school,

and they're getting some B's,

or God forbid some C's,

they frantically text their friends
and say, "Has anyone ever gotten

into the right college with these grades?"

And our kids,

regardless of where they end up
at the end of high school,

they're breathless.

They're brittle.

They're a little burned out.

They're a little old before their time,

wishing the grownups in their lives
had said, "What you've done is enough,

this effort you've put forth
in childhood is enough."

And they're withering now

under high rates of anxiety and depression

and some of them are wondering,

will this life ever turn out

to have been worth it?

Well, we parents,

we parents are pretty sure
it's all worth it.

We seem to behave,
it's like we literally think

they will have no future

if they don't get into one of these
tiny set of colleges or careers

we have in mind for them.

Or maybe, maybe, we're just afraid
they won't have a future

we can brag about to our friends and
with stickers on the backs of our cars.

Yeah.

(Applause)

But if you look at what we've done,

if you have the courage

to really look at it,

you'll see that not only do our kids
think their worth comes

from grades and scores,

but that when we live right up inside
their precious developing minds

all the time like our very own version
of the moving "Being John Malkovich,"

we send our children the message:

"Hey kid, I don't think you can actually
achieve any of this without me."

And so with our over-help,

our overprotection and over-direction
and hand-holding, we deprive our kids

of the chance to build self-efficacy,

which is a really fundamental tenet
of the human psyche,

far more important than
that self-esteem we get

every time we applaud.

Self-efficacy is built when one sees

that one's own actions lead to outcomes,

not --

There you go.

(Applause) --

not one's parents'
actions on one's behalf,

but when one's own actions
lead to outcomes.

So simply put,

if our children are to develop
self-efficacy, and they must,

then they have to do a whole lot more
of the thinking, planning, deciding,

doing, hoping, coping, trial and error,

dreaming and experiencing of life

for themselves.

Now, am I saying

every kid is hard-working and motivated

and doesn't need a parent's involvement
or interest in their lives,

and we should just back off and let go?

Hell no.

(Laughter)

That is not what I'm saying.

What I'm saying is, when we treat
grades and scores and accolades and awards

as the purpose of childhood,

all in furtherance of some hoped-for
admission to a tiny number of colleges

or entrance to a small number of careers,

that that's too narrow a definition
of success for our kids.

And even though we might help them
achieve some short-term wins

by over-helping --

like they get a better grade if we help
them do their homework,

they might end up with a longer
childhood resume when we help --

what I'm saying is that all of this
comes at a long-term cost

to their sense of self.

What I'm saying is, we should be
less concerned with the specific set

of colleges they might be able
to apply to or might get into

and far more concerned that they have
the habits, the mindset, the skill set,

the wellness, to be successful
wherever they go.

What I'm saying is, our kids need us
to be a little less obsessed

with grades and scores

and a whole lot more interested
in childhood providing a foundation

for their success

built on things like love

and chores.

(Laughter)

(Applause)

Did I just say chores?
Did I just say chores? I really did.