Reflect

May mornings are now ignited by stress. Are they up? Have they had a shower yet? Have they eaten anything for breakfast? Then my mind is flooded with irritation. Why do I need to do this? What if I just left them to it? Every so often, a deep-seated worry kicks in, that I am being too hard, or perhaps too soft? Too complacent? Who knows. Should I be keeping an eagle-eye on revision schedules or trusting them to get on with it?

All too often my mind takes me into the future, to exam day. Will the pollen count be high? What if it is too hot? Will the buses be running that day because I am not around? There is no stopping the swirl of emotions that parents can experience at this time of year. It feels like a constant quest for balance - striking the right note between nudging them towards a good amount of effort without tipping them into panic.

Every child is different. I have heard from parents whose children haven’t done a pick of revision. Others seem to be begging their children to take a much-deserved rest. It is my view that all children want to succeed (and this is worth remembering) but they all experience different levels of anxiety at different times and have different ways of managing the overwhelm. For parents whose children are badly procrastinating (even at this stage), stay calm and try to ‘lean in’. There is every chance that your teen is feeling more anxious than lazy. Open the chat with care and curiosity. “I have noticed that you struggle to start your revision every day, is that because it might feel a little overwhelming? I can understand that”. It is the easiest thing in the world to shout at our teens at this time of year, to nag, bribe or beg, but we must dig deep ourselves so we can offer them the highest quality support.

I have tried to edit my usual parental nag-list so that they can focus on workload. I have relinquished requests to tidy their rooms for example, allowing them to find a comfortable rhythm in their revision (if that means past papers and laundry scattered all over the floor, fine!). I am trying to go for walks around the block every morning, so I feel less stressed and therefore more able to support them without defaulting to worry. I am trying to alter my work schedule so I can pop up regularly to bedrooms with the offer of water and popcorn. At evening meals, I ask them: What has gone well? What do you know now that you didn’t know at the start of the day? I am trying to help them see they are making progress, whilst supporting them to be honest about the bits that they still don’t get.

We can support effective revision practice by asking them to teach us something. In asking my teen to tell us what moles were in chemistry, he was quickly able to work out what he did understand and what was still perplexing, which is an effective way of evaluating progress. Research tells us spaced revision can work well, so it was good to see my boys outside at intervals playing frisbee every 45 minutes – exercise can help consolidate learning as well as improve mood.

On Saturday night, I headed out to a birthday party, feeling confident that they were tucked up with their books. Returning at 11pm, we entered our road, and to my horror, noticed my youngest son standing on the street blocking traffic. “Is that our son??” I asked my husband. “It couldn’t be,” he replied. It was. Beside him was a small hedgehog swirling in circles of disorientation. My son had been there for some time warning cars to slow down and had managed to source the ‘hedgehog emergency patrol people’ who had advised him on next steps. The injured hedgehog spent the night curled up under a tea-towel in our kitchen before being rescued the next morning. I felt humbled by my son’s kindness and quick-thinking. The events of the evening encouraged a reframing of some of my values and expectations. Even if being out that evening cost him some revision time, would I rather he helped that injured animal, or had a slightly higher grade? The truth is, I felt an acute sense of pride that I had raised a boy who cared enough to stop. If his values were prosocial and in place, isn’t that the greatest marker of success?

Motivate

For individual families, it is an opportunity for us to think about our collective values, but also how we can cultivate prosocial values within family life - kindness, empathy, cooperation and a sense of responsibility toward others. In a world where individualism reigns, materialism is king and where young people are often influenced by strangers online, we need to ensure that our children are firmly anchored in our family values and knowledgeable about the difference between right and wrong.

There is emerging, anecdotal evidence of increases in unkindness in classrooms, and a rise of what might be called ‘relational aggression’; forms of exclusionary practices designed to empower the bully and alienate another. Online, overt misogyny is pervasive and on the rise. After Adolescence’s release on Netflix, the testimonies arrived; from teachers who feel unsafe in classrooms and corridors, from pupils who have experienced derogatory treatment in school or worse from peers. The charity, Everyone’s Invited has just published alarming and insightful data exposing over a thousand testimonies of ‘rape culture’ being normalised in the playground.

The bottom line is how our children treat one another is something that demands urgent attention. We can make the world a better place by stopping and intentionally considering what is acceptable and unacceptable. How do we expect, want and hope our children to behave, towards other friends, other pupils, the opposite sex, or towards those who look or sound different to us?

Let’s start with what is being modelled at home. Are we being kind to one another under our own roof? Are we modelling gender equity? Are we teaching our children that we value kindness above grades? Are we watching our language? I was given a book last week called Taste Your Words, which is designed to be read to young children. It is a story that aims to teach children that mean words leave a horrible taste in one’s mouth, whereas kind words do not. It follows the journey of Amelia who is having a very bad day and taking it all out on friends and family. As she spews horribleness, she tastes it at the same time in the form of sour milk, rotten eggs, pickle juice and mud! Amelia realises that she needs to watch what she says, so she starts to practice kindness and apologies in a way that invites deliciousness in all its forms. It is a simple little book, but I really like the metaphor of tasting our words. I think it is something we can bring into conversations at school and at home, no matter the age of our children.

We all know what it feels like to regret something we say, to hear ourselves say something rude, unkind or aggressive. We can feel it there and then. Can we catch ourselves? Can we say out loud, “Ugh, I don’t like the way I sound!”, “I don’t like the way these words taste, I’m sorry”. Can we help our children reflect on the power of language to discriminate, alienate and to make others feel worse about themselves? Could we use our words to lift others and increase feelings of acceptance and belonging?

Last week, I spoke to a mum who tearfully described how her teen daughter was being treated by a group of girls at school who were asking her questions and then smirking and running away. Would you be happy if your teen was behaving like this? I also spoke to a teacher in a prep school where the young boys were intimidating her with references to Andrew Tate. Would you be happy if your son was behaving in this way? How are children behaving when we are not present? That is the litmus test. How will we respond if school tells us that our children are behaving in this way? Will we jump to defensiveness or thank them for telling us? Schools need our help, more than ever. Who are we sending into school every day? Are they well versed in right from wrong, encouraged to be an upstander rather than a bully?

Support

I think it is important to normalise ethical conversations early. Give your children time to think about what the ‘right thing’ to do is. Is it ok to tell someone they aren’t invited to a friend’s party? Is it ok to exclude someone from a playground game? How can we tell the difference between a joke and something more harmful? By focusing young minds on how our actions can affect others, we can really make a difference. By encouraging them to consistently question if they would like to be treated in this way or spoken to in that way, we can make a difference.

Children who are used to reflecting on their values are more likely to internalise them and less likely to follow the crowd. If scenarios have been discussed at home (real and imagined), they can step into conversations already equipped with the prosocial script. They can assert themselves rather than simply ‘being nice’. They might have to say, “Hey, that is not kind!” or, “I don’t like it when you speak to me like this, you don’t sound like a real friend!”. They can offer alternatives, ideas and ‘do something different’ which provides a positive influence in social dynamics and ultimately creates a kinder school culture. Think of how proud you would feel knowing your teen interrupts a chat to say, “I am not comfortable with that joke, it is not ok”, or who encourages their friends to reflect on their actions.

It is important to value moral courage, praise and notice it. Academic achievement is irrelevant if we are raising a bully! Popularity is meaningless without individual integrity. Parents, in partnership with educators, can provide powerful guidance, helping children locate their moral compass in a world that will knock them off centre and encourage them to move away from core values. We should endeavour to work in partnership to ensure our children are able to be agents for good in this troubled world.