Welcome back to the Around the World in Six Weeks Parenting Blog Carnival! Deb of Urban Moo Cow, Jessica of School of Smock, Lauren of Omnimom, Sarah of Left Brain Budda, and I have been writing about our reactions to Christine Gross-Loh’s Parenting Without Borders, exploring parenting practices around the world. This week we are joined by the witty and insightful Carisa of Carisa Miller: Do You Read Me? For more information about the Parenting Blog Carnival, and future topics, click here.
Join us as we examine how culture shapes our parenting!
This week we are focusing on the chapter titled, Hoverparenting. The term “Helicopter Parenting” is now in every parent’s lexicon, and has a decidedly negative connotation, so I was excited to read about how other cultures approach the balance between protection and independence for children. I soaked up every word of this chapter, and found Gross-Loh’s observations to be fascinating. There were so many different ways I wanted to approach this post, so many important things I wanted to include.
- The tendency of parents to hover too closely over our children at the park and on outings.
- The importance of our children learning to work things out amongst their friends without our intervention.
- The attention-seeking trap we have created by teaching our children that they should be constantly aware of us and our proximity, comfort level, and approval.
- The alarming rate at which I utter the words, “Be careful!” when my children are playing.
I often fight back my urge to intervene in my daughter’s interactions with her friends. I wrote a post about all the things I’d like to tell them about friendship and how to treat one another, if I weren’t trying so hard to be mindful not to interfere. I agree with Gross-Loh that there is tremendous value in letting our kids work out their own squabbles. In our home, we often fall back on the Love and Logic mantras, “I know you two will work it out.” or “How do you think you’re going to solve this problem?”
I try to give them their space as much as possible.
But sometimes there are situations that feel a bit weightier than a disagreement with a neighborhood pal. What if the conflict has escalated? Or what if it involves bullying, a true injustice, or another adult?
My daughter, like me, is highly sensitive, and I am constantly walking the line between taking her anxieties and sensitivity seriously, and dismissing her protests in order for our family to live our lives. Earlier this year, Izzy was enrolled in an extracurricular program that, true to form, she complained about every time she had to go. I have gotten used to her lamentations and avoidance tactics when it comes to after-school activities, (which for the record, are considerably limited for us) however every once in awhile, she appeared truly distressed to go to her class. During our drive to class one day, Izzy began to cry that she was scared to go. She then proceeded to tell me that one of the teachers shouts at the kids and grabs their hands away when they are doing something she doesn’t want them to do.
I immediately knew that I needed to take this seriously. As parents, it is often very difficult to discern when we should be legitimately concerned and when we need to ease up, but every once in awhile there are moments when our instincts are unmistakeable. I knew that this was a problem, and knowing exactly which adult to whom she referred, I knew she was not making it up.
There wasn’t enough time for me to back out of the program for the week, and besides, what message did that send my daughter? Any time you don’t want to do something, just say you are scared and you won’t have to go. I needed to buy myself some time to think of what we would do to handle the situation, and in the meantime, I encouraged her to use her words and say, “*Connie, please don’t shout,” or, “I don’t like it when you do that.” Given the fact that this instructor was an assistant, I also told her she could address the lead teacher or even the director if she was upset. This particular program had an impeccable reputation of being a gentle, nurturing facility in which adults were very respectful to children; no matter what course of action we chose, the situation needed to be addressed.
Izzy was concerned that if she said something, she would get in trouble. I responded to her quickly and instinctively: “If you get in trouble, I will come right down and take care of it.” I felt instantly conflicted about my reply- wasn’t that the textbook definition of being a Helicopter Parent? But on the other hand– and particularly in light of Izzy’s sensitivity, which almost presents as a special need at times– isn’t it my job to advocate for her?
When it comes to fighting for your kids’ needs, at what point does advocating for their welfare turn into swooping in and rescuing them? Is there a way to empower our children and let them know that you will always make sure they are safe and cared for without becoming a dreaded Helicopter Parent?
My parents have often shared with me their experience of my brother being bullied by another boy at school; like Izzy and me, my brother is highly sensitive. My parents encouraged him to fight back, and one day, when he had finally had enough, my brother hit this kid and he never bothered him again. While this recommendation to “fight back” has been very controversial, my parents sent a clear message: If you retaliate and get in trouble, we will be at the principal’s office to advocate for you. Is this being a Helicopter Parent? Or is it sometimes appropriate to step in and bail our children out of trouble?
In the end, this is what we did: my daughter hand wrote a note that my husband and I signed along with her. It read: “Dear teachers, I feel uncomfortable when you shout and grab kids’ hands. It scares me and makes my heart pound.” We delivered it to the program instructor, and discussed with our daughter that if the situation didn’t improve, we would share our letter with the program director.
It empowered Izzy, and it let her know that we were involved, and that it is okay to speak up when you are upset or afraid. The program director got wind of the complaint and immediately sat down with Izzy to listen to her account. I was impressed with how the facility handled the situation, and I was told that Izzy conducted herself with great confidence and poise. The upsetting behavior improved, and our daughter was able to finish her lessons; I felt the incident and its resolution exemplified striking the right balance between empowering Izzy and supporting her.
I want to inspire her to be confident and brave, to believe in herself.
I do think that American parents would benefit greatly from easing up a bit on the hovering. Giving our children some distance at the playground, encouraging them to work through their own challenges, and sending the message that we believe in their strength and capabilities would do much for our children and for ourselves as parents. Who among us doesn’t feel as though she is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders with every parenting decision she makes?
- Is she climbing too high?
- Is that child being mean to him?
- Is it okay for her to walk to her friend’s house alone?
- Has she read enough chapters this week to keep up with her class?
- Should I be insisting she practice piano more often?
Sometimes we have to just let them run…
It’s exhausting. But in my opinion, this reluctance to fully encourage our children’s independence stems from fear. Some of it may be misplaced and overreactive, but what about the justified worry that comes with being a parent in today’s world of abductions, bullying, and pedophiles? Should I be fostering my daughter’s desire to go to the bathroom alone when we are at a restaurant, knowing how proud it makes her feel, how grown-up, or should I be mindful of that .1% chance that there is a lunatic waiting in there to steal her? It makes me wonder if the battle cry of the overprotective American parent is really, “What if?”
What do you think is the right balance between protectiveness and empowerment? How much freedom do you give your children?
Stop by and read the other Around the World posts today:
School of Smock: Your Hovering Doesn’t Help: A Quiz and A Simple Step
Left Brain Buddha: The Tao of Parenting
Urban Moo Cow: I Would Rather He Break His Arm
Carisa Miller, Do You Read Me? Giving My Children More Space
*Name and details have been changed.
I love the way you handled the situation with Izzy. As a teacher, I see so many times when parents step in and do all the advocating for their children. I love that you had her write the note ~ she took action, supported by you. And, another weird similarity with us, my daughter is also sensitive (I’m currently reading The Highly Sensitive Child – awesome), and, had I not already had a really long post today, I would have written about when I intervened on a playdate last week, when my daughter announced to her friends that she needed to go to her calm down place, but one of her friends insisted they “talk things out” and wouldn’t leave my daughter alone. The friend was trying to be a peacemaker, but I knew my daughter needed to be away from the stimulation of her friends {which she knew too}. I intervened and told her friend to give Abby some time, before Abby had a total meltdown and the playdate imploded. I see it as a similar situation ~ I was helping my daughter, but she had already taken the initiative and knew what she needed for herself.
Great post Stephanie about that fine line between helicopter parenting and giving kids the space they need.
Like Sarah, as a former teacher, I love how you handled this situation with Izzy. I taught kids around Izzy’s age for just one year (second grade), but you would be amazed at how rare this balance as a parent is. At my school, we always said that parents aren’t even “helicoptering” anymore. They’re actually bulldozers, just pushing at teachers and eliminating all challenges from their kids’ way. Kids are often “empowered” in the worst ways: their parents demand that they’re placed in a new class if they have a conflict with another kid, they run to teachers to negotiate any conflict with another student. Such a terrific post! A clear real-life example of the lessons from the chapter!
I think your story perfectly shows the right balance between advocating and helicoptering. It is a wonderful thing to empower your kids with the knowledge that you will stand up for them – but to still let them go out there and stand alone when they are able.
Could not agree with this more…my instinct is to intervene, to fix it, to butt in and solve the problem, but I have to constantly remind myself not to. This parenting gig is tough!-Ashley
That is great insight, Stephanie!! I agree that the “What ifs” are hard to overcome. I do not want to live in fear, nor do I want my children to live in fear. I do, of course, want them to be safe, though. It is definitely a fine line.
I agree with the other ladies who commented, Stephanie – you found a great balance in the way you handled the situation, and you gave Izzy the tools she needs to deal with similar situations on her own when she is older. I think that’s key. We may need to hover more when our children are young and of course keep them safe, but we also need to provide them with strategies and tools to handle their own problems. Kind of like the “give a man a fish/feed him for a day, teach him to fish/feed him for a lifetime” proverb.
I applaud the way you handled Izzy’s situation. You managed to find a way to let her handle things herself when it would have been very easy and, most definitely, socially acceptable for you to have taken the entire thing into your own hands. We have to adjust our level of interference to match the circumstance for particular situations existing in our current culture, while attempting to shift culture to improve its health. Super easy. Should be done by this weekend.
Another former teacher here weighing in and think quite honestly, you handled the situation perfectly with Izzy’s teacher. Seriously, dealing with the teacher first before going to the next level was perfect and sounds like you had a wonderful handle on this situation. I only hope that if and when I am handed something similar, I will react with such quick and rightful purpose. Thanks for sharing Stephanie.
You are the awesomest. I think it’s brilliant that you had Izzy write a letter about not feeling comfortable with the hand-grabbing (and also WTF) because you are helping without hovering, allowing her to be empowered and I hope that one day, I’m typing here that I remembered this idea and used it myself.
I do think that the whole hovering vs. letting them work it out themselves is a really great topic to debate… I’m more of a hoverer but I hope that one day, I won’t need to be so much. Great way to address this topic, Steph. You rock. Always.
And yes! to Triberr!
I love how you handled the situation. It was so conscious, so creative, and so empowering to Izzy. I am constantly struggling with when to hover and when to back off, especially on the playground. That said, I definitely back off more than I hover and it aggravates me when other adults jump in to “help.” It’s not as if I am ignoring my child or being negligent. I see her (she is 18 mo old) and I know she’s safe, but she doesn’t need me cheering her on, narrating her every move, or being 2 inches away in case she takes a minor tumble. How else will she learn? As far as the emotional stuff, we haven’t really gotten there yet, but it’s even a bit of a struggle when she takes another kid’s food or toy. I usually just ignore it and figure the two little ones can work it out but then I worry about how the other kid’s parent will react. I may appear blase, but really I am making a conscious choice to let the kids develop their own conflict resolution skills.
That fine line is sometimes so difficult to tread on. You and Shawn have done a phenomenal job of that balancing act!
I like this idea of not hovering – it sounds like less work for me, less worrying. I don’t know if I hover. I don’t think I do when it comes to dangerous stuff. When my 7yo goes higher in the tree than I’d like, I bite my lip and watch. But if he gets way too high I tell him to not go any farther. I let my kids work out a number of their arguments unless hitting is involved or bullying. Boy, I don’t know. I tend to be very tight when other adults are involved. I’ve read too many sexual abuse accounts and had personal friends’ children abused and other friends abused when they were children to be able trust almost anyone alone with my children. This is probably where I hover the most. And I’m okay with that. I will not let my 4yo in our 7yo neighbor’s house. My 4yo doesn’t have the language skills to tell me if something happened. I’d let my older kids play in their house because I feel like they better understand boundaries and right vs. wrong. But I also understand that I can never have complete control and have to just hope for the best sometimes. Sounds like an interesting book. Great post! Very thought-provoking.
Stephanie, you capture SO well the hard balance that we need to walk as parents. I’m so glad to see a post on this topic that doesn’t radically advocate for one way or the other. I just don’t think it’s quite so simple. I was also a sensitive child (you’re probably not surprised to hear that) and my father CONSTANTLY pushed me to do things that made me scared. I was bullied, and, when I told him about it, he told me to take care of it myself. End of story. Needless to say, that did not help me much! I love this post! Thank you for it.
Thanks so much for all your support and validation, everybody! It was such a tricky situation, and I’m sure there will be many more like it. The more practice we have finding ways to empower our kids when they are struggling, the more natural it becomes to present that as a solution in the midst of challenges!
Steph, I love this. I think I love it the most of any of our pieces this round, because it is so REAL. I am acutely aware how much preaching I am doing, mostly from a place of intellect and not experience. I mean, I have a 1 1/2 year old — not exactly a lot of complexity there, although I do make it a point to stay hands-off on the playground and elsewhere.
Real life is so much more complex, and I hope when I get there, I will be able to handle these situations which as much grace as you did with Izzy. Brava. Pinning to favorites and sharing everywhere!
I love the way Izzy wrote the letter and you both signed it. That was brilliant! My children are 9 and 11 and I encourage independence. They are no strangers to the dangers of the world since I have a category in my blog about online security. Because we’ve talked about what to look out for, they’ll often ask me about anything that doesn’t feel right. I share your fear of allowing my son to go to the restroom alone in a restaurant since men “pee together”, but in those times I give it 3 min. and then walk over the restroom and open the door to ask how he’s doing. Is that hover-y? I don’t think so.
This really spoke to me. I think “be careful” is out of my mouth every two seconds. Yikes!
Hi, I found you through the Honest Voices link up on Honest Mom. Great post, I can relate to the fine line you had to walk with Izzy. I think the longer I parent, the more confident I am in my parenting style–not a helicopter mom by nature, btw. Thanks for sharing!
I think this was handled it the best way possible. I do my best to not helicopter my kids, but it bugs me when other parents step in to “protect” them from doing something I know they are capable of.
I am totally impressed with how you handled the situation with Izzy’s teacher. I only hope that some day I can conduct myself with similar composure and sensitivity if need be.
It sounds like you have struck a wonderful balance between allowing your girls freedom and being there to support them.
I had a play date with another mom today and right after I told her that I strive for a more hands-off approach to letting my toddler play with other kids, there was an altercation that ended with her daughter crying because she and my son couldn’t find a way to share a toy. I felt so bad that I ended up intervening more than I would like to and eventually took the toy and told my son I was “giving” the other girl a turn with the toy.
It was so disappointing, but I couldn’t handle seeing this other little girl cry so hard and was afraid it would look like I didn’t care about her feelings if I didn’t intervene. The sad thing is, at one point, my son *was* trying to share, but the other girl wanted the toy all to herself and his attempt to share wasn’t good enough. Blech.