A couple of weeks ago, I was stuffing paper bags with sandwiches, flipping pancakes, signing permission slips, smelling breath to confirm teeth brushing, etc.–all your average morning chaos. That’s when my middle child told me he was quitting football.
Imagine the activity in my kitchen suddenly lurching to a halt. “What? Why?”
He had some good reasons. And a few not-great, 12-year-old ones. It was one of those weird parenting situations where you wish there was a highly detailed playbook. What to do when your kid wants to quit football and he’s been in it for a month and isn’t getting to play and… I told him to go to practice, and we’d talk about it on the weekend.
…Which was why I was surprised when he came home right after school. As in, not after practice. As in, he quit. (The plot thickens.)
I’ll spare you the drama. Basically, dad and mom talk. Dad and mom decide it’s one thing to try something out and quit after a couple of practices; it’s another thing to quit when you’ve committed to a team—even if you’re not playing much at all. Mom and dad decide to opt for lessons in perseverance and faithfulness. Kid cries for half hour before school. Mom decides she will put off running for mother of the year.
Mom emerges from car later that day, greeted by child: Thanks for making me go back. I had a lot of fun today.
(Be still mom’s beating heart.)
But it’s rare you’ll actually be thanked for doing what your child needs more than what they want. And there’s no one-size-fits-all solution for every situation. It’s heartbreaking and concerning, for example, to watch a child cry every morning before school. That said, talking to at least two other moms about tough teacher situations—sometimes removing your child from a situation is the best option.
One of the key lessons my kids may take away from this is how to handle conflict (catch a post on teaching kids conflict management here). So remember–we’re being watched! I’m cobbling together some questions to ask when sifting through. (Aside from the Word and the Holy Spirit, it’s probably the closest I’ll come to a playbook.)
What’s my kid’s unique personality?
The same child can interact entirely different with each situation, and have totally different character issues. When my son was five, he was placed on a soccer team where the coach yelled at the kids. I wasn’t thrilled about the environment–but my kid just shrugged it off. We used it as a chance to talk with him about responding when people are harsh, but someday, I knew my child would deal with difficult people who probably would yell at him. I had no desire to create a rubber room all his life.
Could there be anything my child isn’t telling me?
My daughter, who does well in school, started crying Monday morning before she left. She was so tired…after two days of rest. I started making room for us to connect here and there, asking questions. I was curious about bullying, isolation, or even the off chance of abuse. Be aware of these warning signs for mental illness in children which the Mayo Clinic has compiled. It sounds like it’s still just adjusting to the newness of middle school, but I know the story my child tells me may only be a presenting symptom.
If my child stays, are there chances poor character could develop?
At least two women I’ve talked to were concerned about the abiding levels of anxiety their kids were developing in school situations. I get a little nervous with this, because psychological research shows that the more we experience an emotion or a thought, our neural pathways grow wider and easier to travel. Plainspeak? That means it could be easier for these kids to develop long-term patterns of anxiety with school and eventually work. They could begin habits of associating their value and identity with how they can perform and achieve rather than understanding they’re loved and accepted just as they are.
I feel younger kids are particularly vulnerable to this, at a time when we want them to “get the bug” for learning; to love it for the rest of their lives, so they’ll be self-driven to learn on their own. If a child’s caught in a constantly shaming environment, the consequences of that environment need to be considered.
What is my child associating with this activity (i.e. by learning or participating in it)?
Psychologists know that neurons that fire together, wire together. What experiences and emotions are they associating with school, practice, etc.? What would they learn by quitting? What would they learn by hanging in there?
Even if my child doesn’t agree with my decision, does my child feel like I’m listening to their heart and advocating for their welfare?
Does he feel like I believe him, and feel compassion when he’s hurting or angry? Does he know that he can come to me and I will act judiciously, creatively, and with self-control on his behalf, even if it’s not the game plan he’d pick?
What are the core character issues at stake?
Think long-term on this one. Someday, your child will not be able to quit a boss or a coworker without some significant consequences. Do they need to learn perseverance?
I could tell you at least two challenging teachers that ended up being some of my best. In fact, one particularly harsh English teacher will never know how she challenged me and called me up in writing…to the point that it’s now my profession.
Have I spoken diplomatically with the teacher or coach? (Should I?)
There are indeed two sides to every story–and of course it’s good to get an opinion other than your child’s. Consider, too, that things will not change for other kids unless someone discusses with the teacher or coach the issues at stake. Most situations benefit from waiting till anger or righteous indignation have subsided, and speaking to the coach like you hope another adult would speak with you (I use Ephesians 4:29 as a guide for what I should say–and what I definitely should not.)
If I had time for this post, I would have loved to get a teacher’s perspective on this. I know there’s been a cultural shift between blaming the child…to blaming the teacher. Instead of blame, it’s much more constructive to have the teacher on your side, to focus on the problem together.
But sometimes, especially for older kids, it’s important they learn to solve problems without a parent running to the rescue. You might help your child develop a loose “script” to address the issue with respect, clarity, and wisdom.
Are there creative solutions or tools you could develop together?
Even if your child must just put her big-girl panties on and persevere, validate her emotions (this includes boys, too). Help them develop tools to be able to press on, walking through it with them as God does for us. One mom analyzed her daughter’s anxiety with school, and found she could eliminate some of her daughter’s fear of being late by simply purchasing a watch. If your child didn’t have to ride their bike home, or if the coach was present in the locker room, or if a few accommodations were made for homework, could he or she learn both perseverance and self-advocacy?
Have I prayed about this? Have I prayed with my child? Have I stepped away from the heat of the moment?
Sometimes the apparent solution is based more on powerful emotion (like fear or anger), revenge, or unhealthy patterns of conflict resolution than wisdom, love, and a sound mind. Wisdom is awareness of the complexity of a situation. Ramming a solution through so you can sleep at night may create more problems than resolve them. Our kids are watching how we handle conflict, and occasionally how we cannibalize the situation.
A later edit: After phoning his adult children regarding this post and their own difficult decision about quitting, a reader emailed me. He writes wisely, “Maintain a good dialogue with your kids, encourag[ing] them to explore and develop their passions. I think if we as parents do that while listening to the Lord we can’t help but get it right.” I love his point: that open conversations are key to uncovering the true issues behind the decision. Describing his own situation, he said, “if I had made them go on, they would have harbored deep resentment.” I am so grateful for this father’s forward thinking and understanding of the complexity behind these matters. Keep parenting wholeheartedly, readers.
Help us out.
What’s been your own experience with quitting?
What do you keep in mind? Comment below!
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