I was at work one morning when I received a call from the nurse at my son’s school, informing me that he was unwell. “You’ll need to pick him up,” she insisted. This wasn’t my first rodeo with school nurse calls, but this time, the child in question was on the verge of adulthood.
“I can’t,” I replied. “I’m on a tight deadline. Just let him take a taxi.” Our home was a short six-minute cab ride away, while the subway would take me over an hour.
“School policy,” she said.
“Are you serious? He’s 18!” This kid has been navigating his way to school solo since he was ten. He’s old enough to serve his country and babysat his younger brother for days while I was on a work trip last summer. I couldn’t see any valid reason for me to pick up my almost-adult son, and plenty of reasons against it.
I argued. Oh, how I argued. Eventually, the principal was called in to mediate. I was reminded that the principal is typically on my side, but on this day, they were clinging to outdated policies.
Due to subway delays from an unspecified “incident,” I ended up taking a $45 cab ride from downtown Manhattan to my son’s high school. As I watched the fare increase, it hit me: I was done.
I was fed up. The way we approach parenting and education in this country is baffling, and I felt compelled to voice my frustration.
How can a school that’s overly concerned about my 18-year-old’s health and well-being still pile on eight hours of homework daily? If he gets four hours of sleep at night, he’s lucky. Since his freshman year, I’ve barely seen my son for more than 20 minutes each day during family dinners, which I make not out of obligation but simply to spend time together. This prestigious school, considered one of the best in the nation, has driven him and his peers to the brink of stress and anxiety.
When he was accepted into both this school and a renowned art program, I encouraged him to choose the latter. “Imagine two hours of art each morning before diving into academics!” I suggested.
His response broke my heart: “But the academics aren’t as strong, and I won’t get into a good college.”
“I don’t care about college!” I exclaimed. “I’d prefer you have a less stressful teenage experience. Besides, every teacher I met there was fantastic. It’s about the quality of teaching, not the quantity of homework.”
But like many, he had already bought into societal expectations.
Years ago, a book about a “Tiger Mother” sparked heated debates among my friends. Some were horrified by the extremes a parent would go to ensure their child practiced an instrument, while others argued we had become too lenient with our kids. “We need to adopt the Asian parenting style,” they said.
My son’s school is filled with the children of first- and second-generation Asian immigrants who have sacrificed and invested in tutoring to secure their spots in these challenging schools. They wear their school merchandise proudly, but for what gain?
The defense of the Tiger Mother often centered around her daughters being accepted at top-tier universities like Harvard and Yale. But let me tell you, I went to Harvard when it was easier to gain admission, and even then, it was filled with some of the most stressed-out overachievers. The pressure was palpable, and it led to eating disorders and burnout. I even found myself questioning my own body image amid the chaos.
Many of my peers had been groomed for success but struggled to find their own identities outside of their parents’ expectations. My family envisioned me in law school, but my path led me to Afghanistan after graduation, much to their initial dismay. They eventually came to accept the person I had become.
Moreover, an Ivy League degree can sometimes hinder rather than help in the job market. It might get you through the door in finance, but in other fields, it can brand you as overqualified. After a viral article of mine, I was accused of excessive name-dropping about Harvard (I mentioned it only once) and was criticized for not grasping how the real world works.
To clarify, I wanted that job at The Container Store, but I also understood the complexities my degree presented. I loved my time at Harvard, but I know I could have thrived just as well elsewhere.
I promised myself that if I had kids, I would let them choose their own paths without the pressure of my expectations. This isn’t the opposite of Tiger Parenting; it’s just a different way of thinking. I don’t have any rigid rules—just a sense of common sense.
My teenagers have never had curfews; I only ask that they check in around midnight. Wine wasn’t forbidden; they could enjoy a sip with dinner on special occasions. When my son decided he no longer wanted to play soccer, I let him quit and focus on his true passions—acting and music. If he didn’t practice guitar, it was his own internal motivation that pushed him, not my nagging.
Today he plays exceptionally well, and I take no credit other than ensuring he had the right resources. When my daughter faced severe stage fright at a young talent show, I let her stop music lessons altogether. “What’s the point of playing an instrument if I can’t perform?” she asked, and it made total sense.
After my divorce, when I took up guitar lessons to cope, she expressed interest in joining me. “I’m more advanced than you,” she said, “but sure, let’s give it a try.” In just three months, she was ahead of me.
Last week, her band performed at Webster Hall in Manhattan, and this week, she anxiously awaits college acceptance letters. I reassured her: “I don’t care where you get in. You’ll find your place, whether it’s this year or next. Every experience will teach you something valuable.” After all, I witnessed a girl with once crippling stage fright confidently singing on stage.
As she prepares to leave for college, wherever that may be, I’m left with my younger son, who is just eight. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, by the time he turns 18 and falls ill at school, we as a society have evolved enough to allow our children to navigate their own journeys?
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In summary, as parents, we must challenge the conventional methods of raising our children and reconsider what truly matters in their upbringing.
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