Rox and Roll

Parents: let kids grow, part one

This is the first post in a series in follow-up to Parents: Let Harvard Go.

For quite some time now, I’ve pondered this follow-up piece to “Parents: Let Harvard Go.” As college admissions decisions roll in, now seems to be both the perfect time and a most imperfect time to offer a follow-up piece. For high school seniors who’ve applied to selective colleges and universities, what’s done is done. Application decisions will be admit, deny, or wait-list. Hopefully, kids will have some decisions to make from those results. And in the meanwhile, the cycle is starting again. A lot of high school juniors will spend their spring and summer breaks touring colleges and perhaps even interviewing. They may know their “lists” already and likely have given some thought to courses for their senior year. They, as much as the seniors, are waiting to hear this year’s admissions decisions, for this informs them of their peer context. They will take it all in, and they will respond. This series of blog posts is about supporting our kids as they prepare to embark on this next chapter in their young lives.

Though in some senses this blog is for a general audience, I direct it toward parents because that’s what I know best. Combining my significant experience as a higher and post-secondary education expert with my own parenting and leadership with youth in our community, I seek to offer some ideas that will further our conversations in home, at school, and in our communities. I don’t pretend to know everything. These are all my own opinions, cultivated from a combination of skills and experience – but most of all, I write from my heart. I care very deeply about how kids live in our community and in our world, especially teenagers – those kids from whom we seem to expect the worst while simultaneously expecting them to become the best adults once the last school bell rings. Teenagers just plain fascinate me, and I seek out opportunities to interact with them. In a perfect world, they would feel as though the world is their oyster. My own teen daughter announced last week, “I feel like I could do so many amazing things!” I hold that close to my heart and pray that she never ever loses that feeling.

Yet … I know she doesn’t always feel that way. She’s wrapping up her freshman year of high school, and there are times when her cheery nature is buried under a to-do list that I’m not sure she should even have. She sat down to plan her four years with her advisor recently, an exercise that, while necessary, troubled me a bit; there seems to be so little room for changing her mind or for pursuing passions organically. While kids need to meet requirements for graduation, they also now have to meet perceived expectations of a university system that has become so esoteric that a translator, in the form of a college counselor, is required for access. To me, this is like the work of a good poker coach: they can help you to increase your odds of a win, but they can’t predict the cards you’ll be dealt no matter how hard they try. Parents pay thousands of dollars for answers that no one can give. I mean, read this piece by an anonymous “tutor” in the New York Post for an example. In fairness, a good college counselor can help with a lot of things. But a parent cannot buy, or plan, or arrange a kid’s college admissions. It’s like I said in my last blog post on this subject: that’s all up to our kids.

So, let’s talk about this idea of our kids authoring their own life story. Let’s talk about how to grow kids who will transform from troublesome teens into responsible adults. Let’s talk about how to grow kids who actually enjoy high school. Who feel like they have options. Whose achievement of their dreams isn’t tied to a brand or a measurable outcome like a bank account but, rather, is tied everyday – including right here, right now, on this day – to how they feel about themselves and their place in this world that they are making.

I know – it’s a crazy idea, right? to expect teens to feel – gulp – good? But they’re so emo! and hormonal! and incomprehensible! I mean, being disaffected is what being a teen is!Well, for goodness sake, one would think many parents and community members were never kids at all. Teens are a whole lot of things, that’s true – they can be emotional, and difficult, and obstinate … just like their parents. And also just like their parents, they kinda just want to be happy. They actually don’t get off on their upset and stress. They crave the same things we all crave: stability. wellness. friendship. Starbucks. Let’s start by treating them like the people they are rather than like aberrations, and let’s focus on how they grow.

It’s intentional that I use term “growing” kids rather than “raising” them in part because it just feels like “growing” is a little more out of our control. After all, our kids grow in height with no intervention from us; so, too, do they grow inside with minimal intervention. We can “raise” all we want, but, at the end of the day, their growth is their own. When I was born, I came home to a large farm in rural West Virginia and spent my most formative years barefoot in that dirt, surrounded by cousins and family and a whole lot of growing things that needed the same stuff I did in order to thrive: Sunlight. Water. Good nutrition. Rest. Fruit trees are no different from vegetables or cattle -- and no different from children, really, not when it comes to the bare necessities. So let’s double-click on one of those things that all living things need, and one that is most amorphous in teenage years: rest.

How much sleep does your teen get? The Mayo Clinic suggests they need nine solid hours. Is your teen in bed by 9 pm to wake at 6 am? in bed by 10 pm to wake up at 7 am? No? Whose is?! Well .. this is a problem. Adam Strassberg, MD, a psychiatrist, recently wrote a guest piece for Palo Alto Online addressing, head-on, the question: “What can we do right now to decrease the risk of suicide in our children?” His #1 answer? Make your teen sleep.

The sad fact is that we have had far too many teen suicides in my community. And after each of these tragic, horrific, desperate acts, our community comes together in some form. We grieve. And we can’t pretend to know what happened, what factors contributed, why, why, why. So, we talk. We host forums. We propose later start-times, and block-schedules, and talk of homework reduction. We look to a whole lot of places to make change. But I don’t hear a lot of talk about tending our gardens at home – about growing our kids and our role in that as parents. I can write about “letting Harvard go” all I want to, but our kids have to be alive and well to have a shot at Harvard. Some irreplaceable children have been lost. Too many others remain unwell. The time for systemic change everywhere, perhaps especially in our homes (because that’s what we parents can, to some extent, control), is right now. We need to make our kids sleep. Beyond that, we need to help them get real rest.

What does that mean? Well, to continue the farm metaphor, sometimes fields have to go fallow in order to produce a good crop the next year. Our kids, they have no downtime – not even in summer. We have packed summer with internships, service missions, enrichment classes. In my community, I know very few kids who do paid work in the summer, but sometimes, that’s a factor, too. You know what I don’t see? Kids doing what I did during the summer: resting. Reading books. Swimming with my siblings and friends. Riding my bike to the library to get more books. Watching VHS tapes with friends during massive sleepovers. Maybe babysitting a little to earn money for more movie rentals or candy. And we were always available for these sleepovers because no one did anything. Summer meant doing nothing. But summer also meant everything to us. We all did the competitive library summer reading program because for every 5 or 10 books we read, we got a free ice cream cone at Dairy Queen. We didn’t let our brains rot. But we sure as hell weren’t inside all day every day in a lab working a 40-hour week so that we could convince a school that we’ll make great doctors. We weren’t doing math worksheets every day to keep our edge. There was a general assumption that summer was for downtime, for play. That was the stuff of our childhood, one that was not governed by what we may or may not do at age 18. In fact, we never talked about college much at all. We just … played.

So here’s the thing: at this point, a lot of parents are nodding along, maybe even fondly remembering their own childhood summers. But at some point, they’re going to shake their heads sadly, thinking “my own kids don’t have that luxury. They have to stay competitive.”

You know, when crops compete, they fail. Something chokes something out. There isn’t space for everything. Tell me: is that how we want our kid to grow? or would it feel better to make space in our gardens such that all of our living things can flourish? so that there isn’t pressure to be closest to the sun? so that the competition wanes as we encourage our kids to spend time on things they actually care about in the summer rather than on some mythical checklist for college admissions? Kids enjoy so many different things. If we give them time to choose and the space in which to do so by unscheduling them, what might happen? Why not ask your kid?

Perhaps I haven’t convinced you, and it’s true: the days of kids doing nothing are, indeed, probably gone. But we parents can force balance, and we can give our kids a vote. If we feel strongly that our kids need to “do something,” let’s counter that by giving them at least half of a summer, or half of a break, or half of a weekend. When they have no downtime – when they have no rest – they are destined to fail. And the chance of catastrophic failure from lack of rest and the potential for related depression is too damned high. I can’t promise that our kids are going to fare better or worse in college admissions if they work all summer or half or not at all because it’s one piece of a bigger puzzle. But I can share that the college applicants for whom I felt the saddest – the kids for whom making a decision greatly challenged me – were the kids who were never kids at all, who spent full summers interning even before reaching high school. Some of them enjoyed it, but, for most, the lack of passion – the idea of “I had to do this to get into your school” – shone through more than you might think. As a lowest-bar standard, there should be no kid whose vacation is less than what we can take from our own jobs. Kids need breaks in order to avoid breakdowns.

On that note, let’s circle back to sleep. Your kid has too much homework to go to sleep by 9 or 10 after sports practice and dinner. Let’s assume, say, an 8 am – 3 pm school day and sports or drama practice from 3:30 – 5:30, home by 6, dinner, homework started by 7. Yep – 2-3 hours doesn’t seem like enough time, does it? So what’s your strategy going to be? Shut off the internet router at 10 pm? (I’ve done it!) Just put up with it? This is where the conversation needs to head. Schools have implemented hosts of solutions. Later starts. Reduced homework. (Howard Gardner thinks it’s a good idea.) Packets given out before a weekend. (This, I think, is bullshit – kids shouldn’t have weekend homework, period, because they. need. to. rest.) And yes, I hear the hoardes of parents who wrote in last time and said “my kid doesn’t want to go to bed; she wants to finish her work, else there will be consequences. She feels her own pressure to keep up with her peers.” Well, this is where you parent, by doing a few important things: sending a message to your kid that her health matters more than her grade, teaching her how to stand up for what she needs, and partnering with the school to find a better way. Note: this does not mean battling teachers, but it does mean talking with them – even in high school. I haven’t found a teacher yet who would not welcome a conversation over a parent’s concern that a kid is sacrificing sleep for their homework.

And frankly, this is where you have to rewind the clock a little, too: if your kid feels like staying up all night to achieve an outcome (usually finished, A-grade work) because she thinks doing so assures her success, defined as admission to a great college – well, who set her up with that idea? what gets lost in that mess, especially given admissions statistics these days? She will compete with her peers no matter what you do, but if the tone in your home is one of “do your best” – not “be the best,” not “we only accept straight-As,” not “why’d you get that C” – then yours is the voice she will hear. Her friends will change many times in high school; you are her only parents. She knows you love her and are there to stay. She will hear your voice the loudest if it is one of unconditional support for her to become a healthy human being and if she knows that is tied to absolutely no expectations of academic performance at all.

Let me emphasize that last point the most: If you haven’t had that conversation with your kid, you really need to have it. I heard from an unbelievable number of our own local teenagers that the gift my “Parents: Let Harvard Go” post gave to their families was a vehicle for that very conversation. Dozens of children said to me “I’d never heard from my parents that I don’t need to be perfect” and “they said they just want me to be happy, and I’d never heard that before.” We can blame our schools and homework and peer pressure all we want to for the state of teen mental health, parents, but we need to look in the mirror, too. If we’re not telling our kids that we love them as they are, that we want the best for them but that “the best” isn’t defined by an outcome on a test, well, we’ve failed. We can do better. We must do better. This doesn’t mean that we give them a free-pass to blow off all of their schoolwork, but this does meant that we need to think about our approach to those moments when they will falter. That response can’t be “you screwed up.” It can be “let’s look at this together and see if we can make some corrections and learn from them.” It means that we need to be gentle with each other. Isn’t gentleness pretty much always the best path in life, anyway?

So if do all of this, if we reexamine our priorities and want our kids to grow healthfully, and we prioritize rest (some downtime, not expecting kids to work year-round) and sleep (not expecting kids to sacrifice it for grades or for anything else), and we tell our kids that they’re good enough … well, then, how do we get our kids into college?

That was a trick question. We still don’t get our kids into college, parents. They have to do that themselves. And some ideas for that will be forthcoming in the next post.

Parents: let Harvard go

As a former admissions officer for two "elite" schools -- one Ivy and one West Coast Ivy-equivalent -- I am in a unique position to offer some insights for parents that may be of help in raising healthful teens. Exasperated as much by the reaction to a couple of recent teen suicides as I am to the acts themselves, I offer my views here not because I'm an expert in suicide-prevention: I'm not. I offer this post because we're all looking for some way to help our community's kids. My Facebook feed upsets me when people surmise that these suicides happened because of mental illness, or tiger parents, or school stress, or, or, or ... because we just. don't. know. I don't think any family from the last suicide cluster came forward with a definitive reason, and I doubt anyone did now. We don't know what drove these kids to take their lives -- but we do know what's hurting our kids now. In fact, this local teen, Martha Cabot, sums it up pretty well: "Parents, calm down."

 

I want to tell every parent reading this post that you need to assume, right now, that your child is not getting into Harvard no matter what he or she does. (And no, he's not getting into Stanford either, or Yale, or Dartmouth, or MIT. Probably not UC Berkeley either. No, I'm not kidding.) Your kid isn't getting into the college you think he is.

What? So-and-so's child is at Princeton right now? and got what on his SATs? and did those activities? Hmmm. Interesting. Sure, you can prove me wrong with some examples. And I can prove myself right with a hundred more. Stanford's rate of admission was below 5% last year. Do the math.

In the spirit of "I want to do something," I offer below some Q & A that I hope y'all read and take to heart. These are real questions asked by real parents of real kids I know within the past year. I didn't answer these questions at the time exactly like I did below, but I answer them here and now based on a combination of my expertise in admissions (noting that nothing I say here should be construed as official advice or information given on behalf of any school) as well as my experience as a community leader and parent.

And be forewarned: I'm going to be a bit of a wise-ass, 'cause we all need to calm down like Martha says, which also means "lighten up" in my book.

But also, I promise a reward at the end: questions that I wish people would ask me instead. And I think -- I hope -- it's some valuable stuff.

Q - freshman parent: "My child is taking honors math. Homework is three hours per night. If I ask for her to be pulled out of honors math, am I killing her chances of going to Stanford someday?

A - if your 9th grader has three hours of homework in one night for one subject, I call that a problem. This isn't a college admissions question; it's a question of time management. Your kid has, what, five, six academic subjects? Last I checked, there aren't 18 hours/night to do homework. Call the teacher. Call the school. Call me crazy, but don't put your kid in classes like that. Three hours of homework total in one night is a lot. WTH?

Q - sophomore parent: "My son is getting a B in English. What can I do to salvage the situation so that he still has a shot at the Ivies? Would it help to send him on something like an exotic summer service trip? Does that kind of stuff offset the grade?"

A - I note you asked how you can salvage the situation. You can't. Do you know why? You're not the student. Let me repeat that: You're. Not. The. Student. It's not your job. Your kid's grade is your kid's job, and, if it needs to be "salvaged," your kid has to do it. As for sending your kid to Timbuktu to milk one-eyed yaks for orphan food, Imma just roll my eyes at that and salvage myself from answering.

Q - junior parent - "So how much do grades matter? Do kids with Bs still get into the Ivies?"

A - grades matter. And kids with Bs still get into the Ivies. But your kid probably won't, because have you seen admissions statistics? They're dire. Let's keep it real.

Q - senior parent - "My kid is applying to 19 colleges."

A - okay, that wasn't even a question, but excuse me while I go scream into a pillow and maybe vomit.

Q - junior parent - "I had to sign a form to let my son take more than the recommended number of APs, but I had to do it because he needs to stay competitive."

A - that also wasn't a question, that was an excuse. Limits exist for a reason. And let's be honest here "he needs to stay competitive" is English for "I'm competing with every other parent because if my kid gets into Harvard I Win." If you're bragging about how hard your kid is working, preface it by saying "I'm making my child suffer on purpose." Let's all be honest here.

Q - freshman parent - "How many APs does a kid need to take to get into Yale? I mean, he could end up with 12 or 15 depending, but I'm hearing some kids have 22. What's a good target number?"

A - a good target number is zero, because your kid isn't getting into Yale. Seriously, did you not get this memo yet?

Q - I don't think I put pressure on my kid! Do you think I am?

A - Well, you do wear that Harvard sweatshirt around a lot, and your house is flying the Harvard flag (literally). You might want to think about toning it down so that you don't have to full-scale remodel when your child doesn't get in.

Okay, enough of the joking around; my point is made. (And I am not joking: those are questions that I am asked on a pretty routine basis.)

Here is what I wish parents would ask:

Q - how much sleep does my teen need each night?

A - at minimum, teens need nine hours per night of sleep for optimal health. (I'm not a sleep expert either, but I trust the Mayo Clinic.)

Q - so how much homework does that leave time for?

A - if school lets out at 3, and your kid needs to get up at 7 am, let's see ... that means he needs to go to bed at 10 pm, so that leaves 7 hours to do a sport or other after school activity, eat dinner, hopefully hang out a little, and do homework.

Q - my kid has more homework than 7 hours' worth, so what do I do?

A - act up. Call teachers. Bug the school. And if all of that fails, send your kid to bed anyway, and tell him you'll love him even when his teacher marks him down for unfinished work. You may be surprised what happens when you call a teacher and say "my son worked on this for two hours and still couldn't finish, so I sent him to bed." Oftentimes, it's a reality check the teacher needs and welcomes.

Q - my kid won't go to bed at 10 even if his homework is finished. That's too early.

A - take away all of his electronics at 9:55 p.m. and charge them in your bedroom. Disallow screen time; remember, you set the rules of your house. If you say to go to bed at 10, your kid had better go to bed at 10. You're the boss. This is no different from when they're 2 and you're forcing a nap; your child needs rest, and if they learn while still in high school how to take care of themselves with proper sleeping habits, they'll be more successful when they do go away to school.

Q - everyone is signing forms to allow their kids to take more APs than are allowed. What do I do?

A - don't sign the form. See above. You're the boss. And while I'd like to assure you that taking two fewer APs isn't going to make an admissions difference, I can't do that. With so many schools having wee little admissions rates, nobody can. It's kind of a crap shoot. But kids taking beyond the recommended amount of APs doesn't end well. They have too much work, get too little sleep, and usually still don't get into Ivies. So it's still not worth it.

Q - where should my kid go to college if he's interested in X?

A - this varies, but I do wish that people would approach me to engage in meaningful discussion over college selection. Once, I appalled a parent who said her daughter is interested in sports journalism by suggesting U Florida, which remains highly regarded in that field. "A state school?" the mom repeated in utter shock. Let's all be open-minded here. There are a lot of colleges. And some of the best schools in subjects in which your kid's interested may not be Ivies. Keep open minds and create a list with a range of possibilities and options -- all of which your kid would love to attend if admitted.

Q - how much do grades and scores matter?

A - they matter, of course they do. But they're not all that matter. Schools could fill with perfect SAT scores and perfect grades, but they don't. If you want to see how your child measures up to any school, schools often publish ranges of scores and grades accepted.

Q - how do I motivate my child to get straight A's? (I wish, actually, the question was: how do I set reasonable academic expectations for my child?)

A - you don't. Encourage your child to do his or her best work. Check in often to feel out how much and how well they're learning. Offer support if your child is struggling. And when your child gets a B, C, or D -- or even if he fails -- don't overreact. Review mistakes. Ask the child to fix them, even if it's not for credit. Ask how he feels about his performance and what he might do differently next time. Never express disappointment, but it's okay to encourage improvement. There's a line, and you know it. Expecting A's is pressure. Expecting learning is awesome.

Q - my kid has perfect grades and scores. Doesn't that guarantee admission?

A - nope. Unfortunately, perfection is not so rare these days, especially in competitive school districts where GPAs exceed 4.0 because of APs or IBs. In truth, I'm pretty sure Harvard could fill with students with perfect SATs and 4.0s. It doesn't. Your kid being academically strong certainly matters, but numbers aren't all that matters. Perfection isn't a worthy aim, and it doesn't guarantee anything.

Q - I attended an Ivy. Doesn't this mean my kid is more likely to get in? Why shouldn't I hope for the same as I had for my kid?

A - it's a different world. Admissions statistics when you attended were more favorable to admission, and it was easier to get in without being perfect and absent a resume of accomplishments. There are plenty of practically perfect in every way "legacy" kids getting rejected from every Ivy. I hold an Ivy League graduate degree (my undergraduate degree is not), and what I tell my kids is that if they really want to attend an Ivy, there's always graduate school.

But there's another problem with this question: "shouldn't I hope for the same as I had for my kid?" Nope. You shouldn't hope for your kid to live your life. You shouldn't assume that because you went to Harvard, your kid has to measure up to that standard. Some of the most successful people I know here in Silicon Valley didn't go to Harvard, didn't go to college "on-time" even, or even didn't finish or didn't go. If you are a success who attended Harvard, Harvard doesn't get credit for your success. You do. Making the point to your child that you're a success because you love what you do and are knowledgeable in your field is more valuable than a credential from your school. (And if you don't love what you do ... are you really setting a good example for your child? does that have anything to do with your alma mater?)

Q - so many schools aren't accessible, including the UCs, even for kids who seem to have a good profile. What do I do to make sure that my kid gets in somewhere?

A - you don't do anything. Your kid needs to work with her school's college counselors to compile a realistic list of colleges to which to apply -- as well as other options. Sure, they can reach for some unlikely goals (e.g., Harvard); but there should be some on the list that are more sure bets than not (non-UC/other state schools, for example). Don't call these "safety schools." Your kid should be happy to attend any college on the list and should have compiled the list with their interests in mind: large or small? urban or rural? specific programs? And encouraging exploration of gap years, national service programs, etc. is a good idea too. Telling them that they don't need to go to college immediately (that you are flexible in the timing) helps to offset college rejections better than anything. They need to know this isn't a one-shot deal.

Q - what should my kid to do have the best shot at admission to a good school?

A - he should engage with his learning, do some things outside of school that he enjoys, and write an application that reflects who he is as a person, honestly (what he wants to say -- not what he thinks admissions officers want to hear). There is no cheat-sheet checklist of things that, if your kid does them, will garner admission assuredly. There are kids at Harvard who've done it all and kids who've done a lot less but are just kinda awesome kids. There's no secret sauce other than what's already in your kid.

Q - I didn't take your advice, and my kid still got into Berkeley. Are you often proven wrong?

A - sometimes, and happily so. Congratulations! Of course some kids still get into great schools. I'd be congratulating your kid just as much if she was about to begin attending Foothill Community College, though, or taking a gap year. Still -- your child certainly worked hard for that or for any college admission, and that deserves a big "hurrah!"

Q - how do I take pressure off of my kid?

A - don't tell them from the day they're born that Harvard is the best school, because, when he doesn't get into Harvard, he'll think he failed. Tell them all along that the best plan for them is the one that feels good -- maybe a gap year, maybe even working for a few years before college, as it's widely known that the best age to attend college is 26. If they do plan to go straight through school, encourage a good fit: an environment in which they want to live and learn for four years (or more -- college doesn't have to be completed in four years). Tell them that there are lots of options. And don't pin your own hopes and dreams to them. It's not your life, it's your kid's life -- and make sure she knows that you're proud of her no matter what.

If you want your child to be successful -- we all do! -- define success without attaching it to an outcome. Success doesn't mean that your child gets certain grades, scores, or college admissions. There is no "result" that guarantees success, or even happiness for that matter. For me, success is my kids thriving in a learning environment, being challenged but not made miserable, and making choices that help them to achieve their goals. But most of all, success is their self-motivation and self-acccountability absent my pressure. That carries over to the work force more than any grades ever will.

We can't tell our kids enough that we love them just as they are, and that we don't expect perfection. In fact, we don't even expect anything close. We need to tell them that when they screw up, we're there without judgement and with nothing but loving guidance and acceptance. We need to tell them that our expectation is for them to live fulfilling lives and that there is no achievement objective correlated with that. We need to tell them that we care that they're learning, and that grades don't matter as much as their engagement with the subject matter and how they feel about their performance. We need to accept that sometimes them doing their best is, actually, getting a C. We need to stop overbooking them for afterschool activities. We need to lower our expectations for academic performance. We need to make them sleep. We need to let them be children. We need to stop competing through them.

We need to hold our kids tightly, tell them we accept them as-is, will love them whatever happens in their lives, and then, collectively...

we need to let Harvard go.

***

Post-publication note: This posts seems to have reached a lot of people who have a lot of strong reactions to it. I think the comment that reached me most on another person's Facebook page is one from a parent who thinks I am encouraging mediocrity. The snarky part of me wants to tell the dude he's right, that I tell my kids "aim low." But the truth is, this post is far from encouraging mediocrity or "settling" for anything less than a child can feel good about achieving. As a Palo Alto parent, I am tired of our culture of 'achievement' as defined by grades, scores, college admissions, and the like. And I am unapologetic about that. I have worked with our community's teens as a coach, as a youth minister, as a mentor, and as a parent, and I encourage every kid to be their best self. That means being proud of their work, whether in the classroom, on the playing field, and/or in the world. Do I think they need to engage in competition for one of those 15 slots at Stanford (there is no fixed number, and I wouldn't know it if there were) by trying to outwit, outplay, and outlast (to borrow "Survivor" lingo)? Nope. And beyond that, there are going to be times when our kids just don't want to work hard because they're kids and continue to push boundaries. They're going to blow off studying for a test. They're going to fail something. Good. That's right -- I said good. Their mistakes teach them that actions have consequences and that their effort ties to their outcomes. We can't give them that with carrots or with sticks. They'll figure it out. They want to do well -- as they define it. (They know what's up with college admissions without us even getting involved, parents.) And the more they figure out for themselves, with no message from us other than "we take you as you are and want you to be healthy and fulfilled," the healthier our kids are going to be. I want nothing but the best for our village's kids -- for any kids-- and I stuck my neck out there with the post because I refuse to define the "best" as it has been anymore. The best for our kids is no more of them self-harming in any way, and I feel like we can alleviate some of that by changing our tone.

Thanks for reading this and for your engagement over what really isn't about college admissions but, rather, about our kids' health.