Anguish for Helicopter Parents as Sheltered Generation of Children Heads Off to College

When did the word ‘struggle’ cease to mean ‘a difficult challenge’ and come to mean ‘a child doing anything without an adult’s help’?

Redjar via Wikimedia Commons CC2.0
Students on the Hampshire College campus. Redjar via Wikimedia Commons CC2.0

A recent front-page article in the Wall Street Journal, “Surveillance Parents Face the Ultimate Firewall: Freshman Year,” described the difficulty — even agony — some parents are feeling when their children go off to college and are harder to monitor and help from afar.

I don’t blame parents for the fear and loss they feel at any stage of the parenting game. However, I DO blame a culture that has gotten both generations used to the idea that children doing anything on their own will simply fail — or feel bad trying — so they need constant supervision and assistance.

Thus the Journal piece, by Tara Weiss — who seems to have her finger on the pulse of modern parenting — quotes a mom in a 24,000-parent support group on Facebook. The mom is “so worried for my child” who is dealing with, as Ms. Weiss puts it, “a humid room, broken laundry card and other small inconveniences.”

That this mom is worried — well, that’s sad. I wish she had some faith that her child could figure things out. Yet the fact that someone else in the group chimed in, “I’m so sorry. So hard on our mama hearts when they struggle” — that’s not sad. That is actually a cultural artifact.

Years from now, anthropologists reading that thread will declare that this is the moment when the word “struggle” ceased to mean “a difficult challenge” and came to mean “a child doing anything without an adult’s help.”

Dumb down “struggle” and you dumb down a generation. To wit, another mom cited in the piece wonders what kind of device she could get for her son that would make sure he wakes up in time for class.

Hmm. What could that device be? It sure would be popular.

And another mom — Go, Tara — told her support group that when she checked her phone at 1 a.m. to see where her son was, he wasn’t in his dorm room. Is it possible, she wondered, that the Snapchat map was inaccurate?

I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

This kind of worry — like many kinds of worry — is best treated by exposure therapy: exposure to how it feels to NOT always check on your children. Exposure to how great it feels to see them muddle through on their own.

Yet the colleges themselves have decided — like enablers — to keep this codependent relationship going. According to one parent, Ohio State University sends home a “barrage” of emails, including instructions on how to delicately tell your kid that the deadline for finalizing their schedule is BARRELLING DOWN. You don’t have to say it that bluntly. “It suggested parents might say: Are you planning on adding or dropping a class?” Ms. Weiss writes.

There’s even an association — of course there is — for college administrators in charge of parental communication. It had 49 institutional members in 2009. Now it has 230. Meanwhile, the number of parents interacting daily with their college children grew to 44 percent this year from 37 percent last year.

That’s quite a leap.

I realize that a simple text — “Did you get into the play?” or “Hope the test went well” — does not make or break a young person. Only the belief that our children need this kind of volley to feel attached and loved is not true. Children and parents are more firmly attached than that.

And the belief that children need our help to replace a laundry card from three states away is not a belief in anything but our children’s cluelessness.

Which, if we can stand back and let our children blossom, college is about to change.

Creators.com


The New York Sun

© 2024 The New York Sun Company, LLC. All rights reserved.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. The material on this site is protected by copyright law and may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used.

The New York Sun

Sign in or  Create a free account

or
By continuing you agree to our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use