If you love winning, raise your hand. (Is your hand raised? I’m guessing so.) 

If you love losing, raise your hand. (Sitting comfortably with your hands in your lap?) 

Let’s ask a different question. When you think about the most valuable lessons you have learned in your lifetime, did more of them come from a success or a failure? 

Here is where we often base our parenting decisions on emotion rather than statistical evidence. According to Jessica Lahey, author of The Gift of Failure: How the Best Parents Learn to Let Go So Their Children Can Succeed, our desire to keep our children from experiencing pain overrides even our own life experiences about learning from failure. As she keenly points out, “Out of love and desire to protect our children’s self-esteem, we have bulldozed every uncomfortable bump and obstacle out of the way, clearing the manicured path we hoped would lead to success and happiness. 

Unfortunately, in doing so we have deprived our children of the most important lessons of childhood. The setbacks, mistakes, miscalculations, and failures we have shoved out of our children’s way are the very experiences that teach them how to be resourceful, persistent, innovative and resilient citizens of this world.” 

Jessica implores us as parents to evaluate our actions and reactions to our children’s failures in light of what we rob them of when we rescue them. Think back to your own childhood … I’ll bet you have a story similar to mine. In fourth grade our class went to the library to check out biographies. I don’t remember why, but I chose George Washington Carver. I loved to read and eagerly started on my book as soon as I got home. However, unlike the Beverly Cleary books of my lazy afternoons, old George wasn’t really so interesting. My interest quickly waned and I forgot about the looming book report deadline. When the day came, I just didn’t turn anything in. When the teacher handed back everyone’s reports a few days later, I received a form with my name, the assignment, and a big “F” circled in red pen. Having never received an “F” before, I wasn’t really worried until I realized the form had a line for “parent signature” underneath. Begrudgingly, I took the form home and had to explain to my mother (a life-long teacher herself) that I failed for not turning in a report. 

If this were a modern sitcom, you could hear the parental yelling in the next room. But my mom calmly explained to me she would sign the form, but only after I read the book and wrote the report. She really didn’t make a big deal about it because she firmly believed that my school was my responsibility. She had not failed, I had failed. She was not a bad parent, nor was I a bad student. I made a choice that led to a consequence and now I had to pay the piper. So I dutifully read the book, wrote the report, and turned it in. Guess what? My grade didn’t change. I still had an “F.” But I learned a valuable lesson. I did not like the feeling of earning a bad grade. Notice I said “earning,” not “receiving;” the teacher did not give me an “F” like a gift. I had not done the work when it was due; therefore, I earned the “F.”. 

Throughout the rest of my schooling, I worked hard to earn my good grades. I knew I never wanted to feel that pit in my stomach again from not giving my best. We would never want to rob our children of the joy of winning the state basketball tournament after a season of hard work. How can we view their opportunity to experience the agony of defeat in the same way? When you wonder how to help facilitate long-term change in your child’s behavior, consider the value of letting them experience the natural consequences of their own choices. 

Failure is a valuable teacher. Give your child the opportunity to learn, don’t rob them of the chance to learn from their own mistakes. As Henry Ford said, “Even a mistake may turn out to be the one thing necessary to a worthwhile achievement.”

Sam:  Mom, are you home?

1 minute passes

Sam:  MOM??  MOM??

Mom:  Yes, I’m home.

Sam: Whew.  I need you to bring me the paper I left on the printer in Dad’s office.

Mom:  You can just take it tomorrow. 

Sam:  It is due TODAY

Mom:  OK, I’ll drop it by the office on my way to the gym.

Sam:  No.  You have to bring it so I can get it by 3rd period and turn it in.  And you can’t take it to the office because that isn’t allowed.  Leave it in an envelope by the bushes by the tennis courts and I’ll come grab it.

Mom:  Just turn it in late.

Sam:  But this is 30% of my grade.  It affects my college apps.  PLEEEEASE?

Mom:  OK

How can we not save our kids from seemingly life-derailing mistakes? College admission seems to hinge on every grade. Any mark on a high-schooler’s disciplinary record feels like the anvil above Wil E. Coyote’s head just waiting to drop and ruin everything. As parents, we react to these circumstances with urgency and resolve, with love and our child’s best interest at heart. But what really is in their best interest?

If our goal is to transition our students into responsible adulthood, we may have to stop doing things that enable irresponsibility. If we were to look back at our parents’ generation, we would be hard-pressed to find a parent heading to school mid-day for anything other than to take a student to the emergency room.

I don’t remember my mom or dad ever coming to school except for a play or performance. Today it seems commonplace for parents to pop by the school for all sorts of things, including “saving” their student from having forgotten something at home. A project, lunch, notebook, gym or sports uniform, the list is exhausting. In The Blessing of a Skinned Knee, author Wendy Mogel makes a point of listing things that kids learn when they forget their lunch at school. Not only does that child learn a meaningful lesson about responsibility, their classmates have the opportunity to learn to share and feel compassion for a friend. We unintentionally steal these opportunities when we “save” our students from the natural consequences of their mistakes.

In order for us to stop rescuing our teens from their “I forgot” habits, we first have to decide that we are going to turn responsibility over to them. Sounds simple, but we have to commit to it wholeheartedly.

Second, we need to inform them of this in a kind but firm way. Whether that is a discussion in the car, a family meeting, or in a written contract that both parent and student sign, we need to be sure our intentions are clear. Even if the intentions are clear, there is a strong chance your teen will claim, “You didn’t tell me you weren’t going to ever bring me anything I forgot.” Or “I know you said that you weren’t going to save me from forgetting anymore, but I didn’t think you were serious.”

Third, we have to just not do it. When a simple trip over to school would “fix everything,” it takes all our willpower not to jump in the car and go. It is akin to exercise, the first workout is the most painful. Keep going and the pain becomes less and less each time—for both you and your teen. Eventually you are not phased by the requests for rescue. They come less and less frequently until they disappear almost entirely, and in their place you find a teen who takes responsibility for their own actions. Goal achieved.