It was Christmas morning, and my 9-year-old daughter was thrilled to open up our new backyard fire pit.
She asked me if we could roast marshmallows and make S’mores that same night. “Sure,” I responded. “If you can put the firepit together.”
I knew she could do it, and I was worn out after staying up late the night before wrapping gifts. Still in her pajamas and always up for a challenge, she opened the box, read the instructions, and got to work.
I gave her a wrench, turned on some Christmas music, and went to take a nap. When she woke me up an hour later, her face beaming with pride, I knew I’d done the right thing.
What I never learned growing up
Although it made sense to me to give myself a break and my daughter a chance to shine, it wasn’t the kind of parent-child dynamics I experienced growing up. In my family, independence wasn’t valued, and showing competency in anything, especially in typically male-dominated tasks or activities, was a good way to become a target.
Courtesy of the author
At the time, I had no idea the American model of protected, responsibility-free childhoods was actually an outlier, and that most cultures throughout human history have expected children to be genuine contributors.
Years later, sitting in a college adolescent development class, I learned about David Lancy’s cross-cultural research showing exactly what my instincts had always told me — kids who contribute in meaningful, age-appropriate ways do better than those always protected from challenges. That’s when I decided, more than a decade before becoming a mom, that I would parent differently from the way my family did. I took numerous Early Childhood Education classes, worked as a nanny, and became a preschool teacher, all in hopes of eventually being the best parent I could be.
Eventually, I met someone, got married, and had two daughters. As soon as my daughters could walk, I made mini diaper bags out of toddler backpacks so they could carry their own snacks and supplies, and gave them as many age-appropriate opportunities to help as possible, like stirring pancake batter, putting their toys away, or feeding the cat.
As a single mom, independence was a necessity
What I didn’t plan for was separating and becoming a single parent within six years, making the whole independence thing more than just a quirky parenting style and more of a necessity.
When their dad and I divorced, I became a single mom in one of the US’s most expensive cities with little to no family support. It was tough, and I sometimes felt forced to give them more independence than even I felt comfortable with. Like when my 6-year-old had to start taking the school bus after my car was stolen, and I wasn’t sure if either of us was ready for that much independence. I worried she was too young and might be exposed to situations with older kids that she wasn’t ready for, but she seemed to enjoy it and even made new friends.
As they got older, my daughters helped with cooking, housework, and even stuffing envelopes for the family business. At 9, my oldest daughter started messaging the local librarian to request new books and was thrilled to see them on the shelves at our branch, while my youngest won a citywide poetry contest and was proud to read her poem at a popular festival.
In high school, when they wanted to skip class for a Black Lives Matter rally, I gave them permission to go as long as they told their teachers the truth about where they would be. I wanted them to know what it felt like to stand on principle and speak up for themselves rather than just take the day off.
I also tried not to get involved in personal issues without their permission, but it hasn’t always been easy. Listening to them vent about a mean girl, an obnoxious boy, or a rude teacher, and minding my own business when they say they don’t want my help or advice, can feel excruciating, and I sometimes fall short of my own expectations.
I’m so proud of them
Both my girls launched at 18 and are now college students working their way through school. I couldn’t be more proud of them, but staying faithful to my philosophy of independence gets harder as they get older, not easier. The stakes are higher now, and I want them to avoid the costly mistakes I made as a young adult, like spending beyond my means and marrying too soon.
But I also know the confidence that comes with learning their own life lessons, and I don’t want to deprive them of those important, character-building experiences. So when I start worrying more than usual, I make sure to talk to them by phone, because that always reassures me that I’ve raised two capable and competent young women, who probably don’t even need my advice.
