This is an article about parenting. But if you’re not a parent, hang in there – there’s something for you too. Because any time we talk about parenting, it’s also worth reflecting on how you were parented, and how that impacted you.
Brene Brown on parenting
I’ve read Daring Greatly by Brene Brown three times. It’s an important book, all about vulnerability and the challenges of taking emotional leaps. I keep coming back to it, and I get something new out of it with every read.
Each time I’ve opened the book anew, I’ve skimmed the table of contents, noted the chapter on “wholehearted parenting”, and thought to myself, “I can just skim that one,” because until recently I was not, myself, a parent. But with all three reads, I’ve been surprised to find that chapter to be the most resonant and moving chapter in the book.
This quote, in a nutshell, is why:
“Raising children who are hopeful and who have the courage to be vulnerable means stepping back and letting them experience disappointment, deal with conflict, learn how to assert themselves, and have the opportunity to fail. If we’re always following our children into the arena, hushing the critics, and assuring their victory, they’ll never learn that they have the ability to dare greatly on their own.”
In other words, if you rush in and rescue your child from the struggle of learning how to do something new so that they don’t have to experience frustration or failure, not only will they not learn how to do the thing they were struggling with – they will also learn that they are incapable.
In defense of failing
Last year when the Varsity Blues scandal popularized the phrase “snowplow parenting”, I revisited the above quote.
“Snowplow parents” try to eliminate any struggle or adversity from their children’s paths before they encounter it. They are well-intended people who want, like nearly all parents do, to give their children an easy, pain-free life. (I’d be remiss not to note: This is also a function of privilege.) Instead, they accidentally teach their children to lack confidence in their own abilities and competencies.
This way of accidentally breeding self-doubt exists in other areas besides parenting. It affects workplace leadership, spousal relationships, and even hobbies. I wrote a blog post a few years ago about how my attempt to learn ceramics was thwarted by a teacher who said, “you’re doing it wrong, just stand up and let me do it”.
And now that I’m a new parent myself, as my baby works to acquire extraordinary new skills (Rolling over! Army crawling! Genius baby!!), this idea feels relevant anew. Because yes, it’s much faster to carry my baby up the stairs instead of letting him climb them… but then I’m depriving him of the ability to learn, and teaching him that I don’t believe in his capacity to acquire new skills.
Scaffolding, not snowplowing
If you’re a parent who jumps in when your child is struggling, you may be wondering about the “gold standard” of teaching your kids how to fail and then try again. It’s called scaffolding.
Scaffolding is when you meet a child where they are, and offer them something slightly above their current level. In other words, “you need to learn to walk before you can run”. Scaffolding teaches children to always be striving, to learn that they can do hard things, and to have a growth mindset.
Start where they are, offer them something slightly harder, and support them as they sit with the struggle. And when they succeed, through their own hard work, at achieving the thing, cheer like they’ve just finished a triathlon!
Adult children of snowplow parents
We’ve worked with a lot of adult clients whose well-intended parents took a “snowplow” approach. And most of these people are flooded with self-doubt. Not only do many of them lack the skills to clean their home, make a budget, or apply for a job; they also don’t believe they’re capable of learning to do so. The message they received during the formative years of their life is, “oh no, don’t worry about doing that – I can do it so much faster/ easier/ better.” That translated, to these clients, as “oh no, don’t attempt that – you’re slow/ clumsy/ stupid/ incapable.”
So we teach these clients to re-parent themselves. We support them in building their sense of self-efficacy and empowerment, while also referring them to other professionals who can support their more specific needs. For example, we may refer them to a specialized dietitian who can help them cultivate a healthy relationship with food, listen to their body’s cues, and learn to prepare and eat nutritious, satisfying meals. We might encourage them to consult with a financial advisor, who can teach them to make a budget, or a career coach who can teach them to build a resume.
But underneath all of that, we work on confidence. A lot of these adults who have had everything done for them feel like they’re stupid or incapable. We encourage them to try new things, validating how vulnerable this is, and to embrace the ideal of failing and being imperfect. Bit by bit, self-efficacy grows.
If you doubt your own capabilities because your parents snowplowed obstacles out of your way, you can change this view of yourself, but it takes effort and proactive action. It takes scaffolding for yourself.
Start with something that feels very slightly too hard for you. Jump in and be prepared for the possibility that you might fail. Recognize that failing doesn’t mean you’re a failure, and that falling short of perfect is part of the process.
Contrary to conventional wisdom, practice doesn’t make perfect. Practice makes better. Practice makes increased self-confidence. And ultimately, that’s what matters the most.