Feedback

The afternoon my son Ethan came home from soccer practice and threw his cleats into the corner of our mudroom in suburban Denver with enough force to send a cloud of dried grass into the air, I knew the feedback had landed badly. He was ten years old, and his face was the particular shade of red that comes from a combination of exertion, embarrassment, and anger. “Coach said my passing is terrible,” he announced, and the word terrible hung in the air like an accusation. “He said it in front of everyone. I am the worst passer on the team.” I sat down on the bench and asked him to tell me exactly what the coach had said. Ethan reconstructed the conversation as best he could: “He said, Ethan, you need to work on your passing accuracy. You are sending the ball to the wrong player half the time. Practice this week.” It was not terrible. It was not even particularly harsh. But to Ethan, it felt like a public verdict on his worth as a soccer player, and the gap between what the coach intended, which was helpful direction, and what Ethan heard, which was condemnation, was a gap I realized we had never addressed. We had never taught him how to receive feedback without translating it into a judgment about who he was. ...

Every parent has faced this scenario: Your child proudly shows you their artwork, clearly pleased with their accomplishment. Do you shower them with enthusiastic praise, or do you gently suggest they could add more detail? Praise your child for making their bed and they beam with pride. But is this confidence genuine, or have you created an inflated sense of achievement that might crumble when they face real challenges? Balancing confidence-building with realistic self-assessment is one of the most delicate tasks of parenting. Too little praise and children may develop under-confidence, limiting themselves to safe choices and avoiding challenges. Too much praise and they may develop over-confidence, becoming risk-averse when challenges arise or fragile when facing setbacks. ...