Because We Care a Lot, We Expect a Lot

By Scott Schimmel

There’s a certain kind of discomfort in watching your kids make mistakes in life. It’s almost like the English language needs a new word for it —one that really describes the mixture of fear, frustration, disappointment, and anguish it stirs up in parents. 

My kids are an extension of me; inasmuch as they live their own lives and carve their own paths. The scorecard of my success in life is tethered to their willingness and ability to make wise choices throughout their teenage years. Being successful in school, making good choices with friends and romantic relationships, avoiding risky behavior or substances, driving safely, and steering clear of mistakes with technology or addiction—all of these fit under the collective success definition. 

One day during his freshman year, my son came home and announced his excitement that the following year, his sophomore year, he would be taking only three classes instead of the full load of four. Before I could close my gaping mouth and form some words (likely, “What the h— are you talking about?”), he clarified that we needn’t worry because he would still have enough units to graduate. 

I quickly checked in with my rising anxiety and heart rate, took a breath, and then said, “Your future self would love to be here in this moment and tell you one thing: please change your mind before you realize you will not be attending a university.” What he saw as a great opportunity was, in reality, closing doors he would desperately want to remain open just a couple of short years later. 

It’s so difficult to maintain composure and calm in these kinds of moments, at least for me. I can see the big picture when they can’t, and I have a knee-jerk reaction. But beyond staying cool, it’s not clear what a moment like this requires from us as parents (and adult figures). I’m not sure if I should yell and scream, run and hide, sit back and watch, lecture and warn, or fast and pray. 

To know how best to respond, we need to understand what our kids are going through and what they need. And that starts with first seeing what’s at stake and defining the real problem clearly. 

What’s at Stake?

Oh, nothing major, just their entire future and the opportunities they will need to thrive. The kid who won’t respond well to getting the help and support they need to be successful in a class doesn’t see how this class and this grade at this moment will actually impact their GPA, which in turn affects their college application package. 

This moment is all about preserving opportunities for them. We want (and they need) to help them plan for the future, solve complex problems, and delay gratification. 

There’s something else at stake, too: our relationship with them. I want to stay close and connected with them, and I hope they will continue to come to me with their decisions and dilemmas. How I react in these moments will determine how likely they are to consider me as safe, sound, and measured. 

What’s the Problem?

The problem, according to them, is not them. It’s the teacher. Their teacher “sucks”, as they have stated repeatedly, confirmed by the fact that “everyone says so”. If it’s not the teacher, it’s the other kids in the class. Or the curriculum. Or the time of day. 

They think the situation is unfair and should be fixed. They think the problem to solve is reducing friction, having more free time, and avoiding responsibility. 

No, the problems, as they see them, are not the problems that must be seen clearly. 

The problem, in the big picture, is the fact that their brains haven’t fully developed. Their frontal lobe, where executive functions hang out, aren’t fully developed and won’t be for another decade or so. (Yep, you read that right)

The problem is that they desperately need executive functioning. Their teenage years are filled with high-stakes situations that require long-term thinking, perspective-taking, impulse control, self-regulation, thoughtful planning, and complex problem-solving. 

But, one of the last things they want for you to do is to executive function for them. They want to do it themselves. They think they know what’s best. Isn’t it ironic?

What a delicate dance this is as parents. The most precious humans to us are pushing away from our direct influence and making mistakes that can harm them forever, without realizing that they’re actually naive and short-sighted, and quite possibly making life-altering mistakes.

So, how do we navigate this? 

Expect A lot. Care Even More. 

It’s no fun to hold your kid’s feet to the fire. They can’t stand it; neither can we. Do it too much or too often, and the strain on the relationship might become too much to handle. But do it too little and you risk missing the moment altogether. 

That’s why it’s so essential to run this phrase through our minds often, but in the proper order: Because we care a lot, we expect a lot. And because we expect a lot but ALSO understand their ongoing frontal lobe development, we don’t just sit back and expect a lot but also step in to be their executive function sometimes. 

That means we help them see the big picture and walk through how to solve complex problems. We stay calm but also focused on the current situation in light of the long-term plans. We ask them direct questions, share our concerns, tell them how much we love them and believe in them, and then push them even more. 

We Hope It All Works Out

My son did, in fact, listen to his future self. He reconfigured his 10th-grade schedule to take a full load, did well in school, and is currently in class at the university of his dreams with a nice academic scholarship. It wasn’t smooth sailing after that moment, but I think a small warning light started to flash in his mind. It was a warning of ownership. 

Even though our futures are intertwined, his life is ultimately his own, and his choices have consequences, too. Every kid needs that moment — and many others like it —when they start to feel the full weight of their lives. With our support and encouragement, they will be able to build the muscles they need to lay the foundation for both taking ownership and seizing opportunities. 

Because we care a lot, we expect a lot.