Helicopter Parents

Lynn Ruth, it is hard to respond to your previous post. Although I am a parent myself, I don't know how I would react if my daughter ended up walking the same path.

However, I do feel that our generation is, in a sense, overinvolved; we are the so-called helicopter parents who, when things go wrong, helicopter in to do a rescue mission. There is something like personal responsibility and learning that certain actions have consequences even when you're 6. Children sometimes need to fall on their face to change certain behaviors and as parents, however difficult, we have to let go and see them fall rather than catching them before they hit the ground. My own parents were underinvolved and look how great I turned out (please add irony here). I have told people this story before but my parents said to me: "there's only three things we want you to do: finish highschool, take dancing lessons (yes they were very nineteenth century, bless their hearts) and get your driver's licence...other than that, you're on your own, kid." I can't say we ended up badly and certainly not dysfunctional (and there were 4 of us).

The daughter in your story has turned into a robot and it seems like she can't think for herself anymore. "Teach me how to do it myself," Maria Montessori wrote-- as helicopter parents we do it all for them and there are no lessons in that.

On that note, I'll tell you what happened to William and me. Last year William was in 3rd grade and the teacher wrote a letter at the beginning of the year that third grade was the year of facing up to personal responsibility. She wrote something to the effect of: "If you forget to bring your homework to school don't blame your mom for not putting it in your backpack." I read that and I said, yeah way to go!!!
Days go by and William can't find his homework folder one night. He's looking everywhere but finds nothing. It was getting late so William went to bed and went to school the next day. After I arrive at my office, I pull out the folders from my bag and out falls William's folder, which had the same color as one of my folders. I e-mailed the teacher to tell her. Her response: "Did you happen to find my folder, too?"

As for your friend: I don't have all the answers-- god knows what I would do if I were in her shoes, but maybe it is our love sometimes that gets in the way of what is best for the child