Feature Photo Caption: 6th grade. The “look”: pajama bottoms as pants; lululemon lunch bag; Stanley water bottle #IYKYK

As many of you know, I share a smartphone with my 12-year-old daughter. It is not a strategy that works for everyone. It means she can see my texts as they pop up on her iPad, and I can see hers on my laptop or phone (but which forces, I would argue, some pretty conscious intentionality on both our parts to pay attention to what we’re putting in writing– a win right there!). 

It means So. Many. Text. Messages. in the after-school and early evening hours. It’s definitely not easy and it definitely requires a lot of communication.

However…

Two things make this experience easier:

1. Her school has an “away for the day” policy regarding student devices, which means that even if she had a phone, she wouldn’t be allowed to have it at school – which makes my life as a parent SO MUCH EASIER. It’s just a rule. She can’t take a phone to school.

2. For better or worse, she has The Screentime Consultant as her mom, and I used to be a middle school teacher, so I am very familiar with many of the social dramas that come with middle school. 

One of the most important gifts we can give our children is opportunities to struggle—not suffer. For a variety of reasons, over the past parenting generation, we’ve seen a shift towards overprotective parenting in the name of “protecting” our children.

But the irony is that overprotective parenting doesn’t make kids more resilient– it does the opposite. It reinforces their (and our) anxieties; it sends the message that we don’t think they’re capable; and it doesn’t give them the real-world practice they need.

I won’t go into details about my daughter’s specific social dramas (as they are her own to share, should she choose to), but I thought it might be helpful to share some of the things I find myself saying to her over and over again:

1. “Friendship drama in middle school is really, really normal. That doesn’t mean it always feels good, but it’s a normal part of adolescent development.” 

2. It is not my job to solve your problems, but I can offer ideas or support if or when you ask for them. I ask: “Do you want me to listen, or do you want advice?”

3. Calling (or Facetiming) is always better than texting to resolve a conflict. Always.

4. Screenshotting is rampant, problematic, and reinforces #3 (call/facetime is better than texting). 

5. I know this is hard; I know you are capable; I know you will make mistakes – and that’s okay.

In my book, The Screentime Solution, I wrote about the ways in which parenting has changed in the past few generations. In particular, I highlight how we moved from “helicopter” parenting to “snowplow” (sometimes called “lawnmower”) parenting. 

Here is an excerpt:

“A generation ago, we talked about helicopter parents. These were the parents who would rush a forgotten lunch to school or help with a school project so their children wouldn’t suffer the pain of a low grade. Today’s version of a helicopter parent is the snowplow parent, who plows away obstacles before their children encounter them in hopes that these efforts will protect them from pain.

“Though well intended, such behavior prevents children from practicing problem-solving and handling hardship—experiences that increase their resilience and fortitude and constitute the 21st-century skills that actually matter for future success. A healthy childhood needs to include some challenges and obstacles. A wise mental health practitioner I know once told me, “Childhood is fraught with pain and suffering. And healthy adults are not the ones who went through childhood unscathed; they are the ones who were scathed a little bit” and got through it.

“Snowplow parents truly want to shield their children from suffering. But this overprotective behavior is a narrow and problematic way of thinking. The snowplow parent is thinking of their own anxieties about childhood without seeing the lifetime that unfolded in the years following. 

“What snowplow parents lose sight of is that most of the obstacles and challenges of childhood are what taught them important coping skills and built their resilience. However, we aren’t always willing or able to unpack our childhoods even though they hold many valuable lessons for us as parents.

“But if we step back for a moment and look not at what we perceive is gained by our snowplow parenting efforts (i.e., supposed protection) but rather at what is lost, we might come to a different conclusion about what’s best for our children. 

“When we plow away the obstacles that lie before our children, we rob them of the opportunity to try something difficult on their own and the glorious feeling of triumph when successful. 

“We give them the false impression that loss and hardship are something they shouldn’t have to confront, when suffering and challenges are actually part of the human experience, no matter how great we are as parents. 

“By not allowing them to struggle through difficult moments, we teach them that we do not trust their abilities, which leads them to question themselves: ‘My parents don’t think I can handle this. Maybe I can’t.’

“ We also model that rescuing people from hard moments is always good rather than helping them experience the value of learning through discomfort.

“Ultimately, when we are snowplow parents, even when our intentions are good, we can unintentionally create harm for our children. Our kids will not learn—or will be unable to learn—how to solve problems or deal with challenges, something we absolutely hope for them as future adults.”

I don’t enjoy seeing my daughter feel sad or left out, but I also know that a well-rounded life includes the full spectrum of emotional experiences– rejection, anger, love, joy, sadness, and grief. If I try to prevent her from experiencing some of the “negative” ones in favor of only the “positive,” I am failing to set her up for the real adult world – where she will encounter new people and experiences – far from my protective bubble.

Parenting in the digital age is not for the faint of heart. The dangers that lurk online are far worse than those we fear lurk on street corners, but our own consumption of news and social media feeds threatens our own ability to note the scary (the real world) from the truly dangerous (the online one), as I have written about before.

To truly future-proof our children, we must paradoxically let them experience real-world rejection and social drama so that when (not if) those dramas appear in text threads or social media feeds, their skills are ready, and their minds are resilient.