Does nagging make things worse? Can we accept ‘productive failure’? Schoolbag Parent author Eveline Gan reflects on how her own reactions to her daughter's struggles made her child's situation worse, and how she went about making hers right.
When my oldest child came home from school with homework full of mistakes, something about the cross painted in red on her worksheet triggered a whirlwind of emotions in me: worry, frustration, and frustration. At that time, she was in second grade.
A look into her homework folder revealed worksheets full of careless mistakes and corrections. I screamed in frustration. “There are too many wrong answers! “Are you concentrating in class?”
Later, I remember going to the bookstore and buying assessment books and other in-depth materials that I thought would be helpful to her. I started my routine with her by sitting next to her while she did her school assignments.
Afterwards, her worksheets came back with more ticks than crosses and cheers of “Good job!” Stickers given by the teacher.
I was happy. I thought about it my The efforts paid off. How mistaken I was.
As I got older and more experienced, I realized I had fallen into a parenting trap that repeated the perfectionistic ways I was raised.
Having grown up studying in a strict environment, I have all the typical tendencies of an eldest son seeking perfection. Being fiercely opposed to mistakes meant that I rarely neglected myself and took what I perceived as failures seriously.
One time, I cried in front of the whole class when I only got a 65 on a spelling test. I knew what awaited me when I returned home. It was a dark cloud coming from my mother for a few days. To be fair, there's nothing wrong with striving for excellence. My mother, who came from a humble family and worked hard to build a better life for herself, wanted the same results for me the only way she knew how.
But when the relentless pursuit of success leaves room for error, are we telling our children there is no alternative? What about our ability to bounce back from failure, adapt to challenges, and find ways to improve ourselves?
Pursuing excellence is counterproductive
The way I responded to my oldest son's learning difficulties affected the way she viewed failure. It was no better, no saving grace. Excellence was the be all and end all. All of my sharp criticisms had a hurtful edge and took away her self-esteem and motivation.
Instead of becoming more motivated, my daughter started dragging her feet to finish her homework. She was afraid of making mistakes. When something went wrong, she would blame herself for being “stupid.” When she struggled with problem sums and had to be spoon-fed her answers, she gave up easily. There was less chance of her making a mistake.
She expressed blame for not doing “more” to avoid mistakes. Although she was only eight years old at the time, she was already showing all the red flags of anxiety that come with the pursuit of perfection.
Looking back now, I wish I had been more mindful of how I reacted. After all, learning is a process of making mistakes, learning, and learning again. Instead of avoiding mistakes at all costs, embracing C, D, and even F grades and viewing them as learning opportunities can help us grow.
My old way of thinking wasn't doing her any favors. It was me who needed to improve, not her.
Change the way you view failure
The first step I took to break away from old patterns was to change my mindset. I reminded myself that spilled milk happens all the time, it's a part of life. But how I react when my child gets “trouble” can make all the difference in how he or she gets through that failure and bounces back.
An online search will yield numerous research papers supporting this. In a Singapore study published in the Journal of the Learning Sciences in 2012, researchers identified the value of “productive failure” in the learning process.
One group of students was asked to solve a complex math problem with a teacher providing direct instructional support every step of the way. In another group, students were left to collaboratively solve complex problems on their own. At the end, the teacher intervened to analyze the failed attempt and find a solution.
Although the second group appeared less successful in their problem-solving efforts, they outperformed the direct training group on both simpler and more complex problems during testing.
It should be emphasized that the failure of the second group to solve the problem is not being ignored or avoided. After a failed attempt, the teacher acknowledged the students' difficulties, analyzed the situation, and guided them to find a way to reach a solution.
I now adopt similar strategies when supporting my child’s learning. At first, it took some practice to stop reacting strongly every time my daughter did poorly on a test (“Why can’t I get this right?”) and reframe mistakes as learning opportunities (“It’s okay, now we can You can see what we can improve, maybe we need to find another way to fix this topic”)
Instead of constantly telling her what to do, we made a plan together at the beginning of the school year, which I detailed in an earlier comment. I wanted to enable my child to take a more self-directed approach to learning by allowing him to take control of his own daily schedule and routine within the expectations and boundaries we discussed and agreed upon.
Recognize effort and resilience, not intelligence
Another thing I deliberately refrained from was the way I gave compliments. For example, it is not uncommon to applaud a child for being “clever” when he or she passes a test. But this kind of praise can backfire.
In a series of experiments, American psychologist Carol Dweck found that children behave very differently depending on the type of praise they receive. Children who were praised for their intelligence or natural abilities tended to avoid challenges. They were also more likely to give up after experiencing failure.
In contrast, people who were praised for their effort and persistence were more willing to take on challenging tasks. They were more willing to learn new strategies to solve problems.
By focusing on my daughter's efforts (“I see you worked really hard on this topic,” “I see you started revising earlier this time”), I can help my daughter become more persistent and more motivated to try again, even in the face of failed attempts. I found that .
I have made other changes to the way I communicate with my oldest child, who is now 16 years old. But the most important thing I did was to soften the sharp edges of my words with compassion and kindness whenever my child was struggling.
I tell her that no one is perfect and that struggles while learning new things are normal. Most of all, I remind her that my love for her daughter is not dependent on her grades. When the going gets tough for her, my shoulder will always be there for her to cry on until she is ready to get back on her feet.