The Butterfly Conundrum
We are hardwired to care for and value children and it is a genetic imperitive that we do so. However, smothering children with 'love' is counter-productive.
Instead, ask yourself, "What would Ender Wiggins do?" Ender is the fictional prodigy hero in Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game . As a child in kindergarten he quickly discovers self-reliance as a survival tool. Ender is extremely advanced for his age and has skipped several grades and is the target for the class bully.
Not only does he decide that he must win confrontations with older, bigger kids without the (non-existent) help from adults but to make matters easier for himself he chooses to win all the future battles up-front.
He wants to stop future bullying by beating the bully so badly now that not only will that bully never bother him again but nobody else will even consider coming after him.
As parents, we are faced with the Butterfly Conundrum.
We see our little larvae emerging from their cocoons (ever so sloowly). They struggle at everything and we think we can make things easier for them by intervening. It's true, too, but everything has a consequence.
The problem is that the butterfly requires the struggle of emerging from the cocoon to build the strength required to survive. When we step in to relieve the effort we unintentionally weaken the little bugger and make him/her weaker.
One school morning when The Daughters were in grade school they were in tears over the dresses Mrs. Director selected for the day. After much wailing it was finally learned that it was Friday Flipup Day at school, a day in which boys running around the playground would flip up any available skirts then laugh at the girls.
As parents we faced a number of options and almost all of them had us stepping in to save the day. In fact, we might well have been able to fix the problem -- for a while, at least -- but there were bigger issues. This was a teaching moment for us and Ender was the Professor.
My instructions were to Daughter The First, being older and bigger and she followed them exactly (and she wore the dress that day).
At recess she approached the ringleader of the boys and told him that if he flipped up any skirts ever again she had my permission to punch him dead in the face and that she would not get in trouble for it. She delivered her line with great conviction and, dare I say, believability. The boys got the message.
Just like that, Friday Flipup Day ended and my daughters learned how to solve that problem for the future when I may not be available to swoop in to the rescue.