Ringlepapa

PhD in Education

Positive Education Expert

“🌱 The other day, I was outside an interview when I overheard a mother resigning for her son.”

A friend told me something last month. We both laughed, but afterwards, a chill ran down my spine.

A young man went for a job interview, bringing his mother along. The mother eagerly answered the boss’s questions. Two weeks later, the boss received a call—from the mother: “My son isn’t suited for this job, so we’ve decided to resign.”

Even the resignation was handled by the mother.

My friend paused after telling the story, then asked me, “Tell me, what else in this child’s life has he done independently?”

I didn’t answer immediately. Because I was thinking, “What about the next generation?”

How did our generation grow up?

The previous generation of Hong Kong people had a term: “Lion Rock Spirit.”

Enduring hardship, suffering setbacks, and getting back up after falling down.

In my mother’s generation, no one asked you “Are you happy today?” or “Is your homework difficult?” You figured it out on your own, stumbled along the way, and after each setback, you were more careful next time and kept going.

No one would say that era was perfect. But there was one thing that almost every child of that time possessed—”resilience.”

Today, however, we’ve unknowingly taken that resilience away from our children, bit by bit.

It’s not because we’re bad. Quite the opposite, it’s because we love them too much.

There’s a kind of love called “I’ll do everything for you.”

Waking the child up every day. Constantly nagging and pleading for homework. Worrying they won’t know how to take the bus. Afraid they won’t eat enough. Afraid they’ll make the wrong friends. Afraid they’ll choose the wrong subjects.

I want to ask you a question. You don’t need to answer me, just think about it yourself:

Does your worry stem from loving them too much—or from not trusting them at all?

These two things seem similar, but their essence is completely different.

The more you worry, the more insecure you are. The more you worry, the less confident your child becomes. The less confident your child is, the more you worry.

Many families are caught in this cycle, but no one realizes it.

According to psychologist Erik Erikson’s research, children aged six to twelve have a strong need to build competence to establish self-efficacy and self-esteem. However, often, caregivers’ methods not only fail to enhance a child’s competence but also deprive them of the opportunity to build confidence.

Letting go doesn’t mean abandoning them; it’s about loving them in a different way.

I know some parents feel a pang of anxiety when they hear the word “letting go.”

“Doesn’t letting go mean abandoning them?”

No.

Letting go means letting your child set their own alarm clock, instead of you calling them three times a day outside their bedroom door. Letting go means letting them decide what to eat, instead of you serving them their meal. Letting go means letting them face the consequences of failing an exam, instead of you breaking down before them. Letting go means letting them find ways to mend relationships with friends, instead of you calling the other child’s parents.

You can offer advice, but you must accept that he might not listen. You can express your concerns, but you can’t make decisions for him.

One day, your child will turn around and ask you, “Mom, why are you always right?”

Many parents will get angry when they hear this. But I want to say—”Congratulations, he is developing critical thinking.” This is one of the most important abilities for the future, and he is practicing it with you.

There is a harsh reality: knowledge may be the least competitive thing in the future.

Let’s face a problem that many people don’t want to confront.

The professions you thought were stable are now in this state:

Accountants—AI can already handle most financial work. Lawyers—AI’s ability to analyze cases has surpassed humans in some areas. Bank cashiers—almost entirely replaced by automation. Traditional retail—unmanned stores are rapidly becoming widespread.

Doubao, DeepSeek, ChatGPT—they are more “knowledgeable” than anyone else. No matter how much you memorize or how fast you look things up, you can’t compare to them.

So, what is something that AI can never replace?

Huang Renxun once said something I think is very accurate:

“AI can never replace those who know how to cooperate with others.”

Cooperation isn’t as simple as “not arguing while doing group projects.” It’s about quickly gaining the trust of strangers, getting others to speak their minds honestly, handling conflicts calmly, and not letting emotions ruin relationships.

These abilities aren’t learned in school. They’re learned at home, day by day, from your parents.

Six Things Children Really Need for the Future

I’ve compiled six things; they’re not new theories, but I think each one is worth parents seriously considering.

First, problem-solving skills. When faced with difficulties, their first reaction shouldn’t be to turn to their parents, but to try to find a solution themselves. What parents can do is stop solving problems for their children and let them try, even if they make mistakes.

Second, emotional intelligence and emotional management. No matter how high your abilities are, if you lose control of your emotions, you’ll be a “disaster” anywhere. What parents can do is demonstrate at home how to express emotions properly, instead of losing their temper. Children don’t grow up listening to what you say, they grow up watching how you act.

Third, resilience—the ability to recover from adversity. Losing a game doesn’t mean your life is over. When your child falls, your first words—”Are you okay?” or “I told you to be careful, but you didn’t listen!”—plant completely different seeds.

Fourth, the ability to learn and reflect afterward. When faced with problems, don’t blame fate, but ask yourself, “How can I do better?” Parents must lead by example. Try proactively saying to your child, “I didn’t do this well today, and I need to improve.” Saying this is more powerful than any lecture.

Fifth, adaptability and flexibility. Plans can never keep up with changes. Guide your child through “plan changes,” teaching them how to adjust, not break down. The world won’t stop just because you don’t like it, but you can learn to find new paths amidst change.

Sixth, correct values. Politeness, honesty, responsibility, and gratitude—these are fundamental character traits that AI can never learn. What parents can do is pay attention to every word they say at home, because children are learning, and learning faster than you imagine.

Your role changes with age.

Many parents ask me, “How should I talk to my child about the future?”

I think the answer is simple, but many people fail to do it: adapt your approach to the child’s age.

From elementary school to 14 years old, children are most curious and change every so often. During this stage, your role is that of an “observer.” Note what they like and what they are good at; offer more appreciation and affirmation, and less criticism. Don’t rush to set a direction for them; let them know who they are first.

From 15 to 16 years old, children begin to assess themselves; they dare to do some things, and they don’t dare to do others. During this stage, your role is that of an “encourageer.” Give them opportunities to try, and tell them, “You have the ability; you’re just afraid. Try to be brave.” Many children wait their parents to say this their whole lives.

From 17 to 18 years old, the pressure of choosing subjects and schools arises, and children begin to feel confused. During this stage, your role is that of a “consultant.” Provide information and support their decisions, but don’t make decisions for them. Ultimately, they must walk their own path in life.

Children are often least willing to confide in their parents.

Have you ever thought about this:

When children encounter problems, the people they should confide in are their parents. But they are also often the least willing to confide in their parents.

Why?

Because after confiding, they feel even more frustrated than before.

What’s your first sentence when your child comes home after failing an exam?

Is it, “I told you to study, but you didn’t listen!”

Or, “You worked hard this time; let’s see what we can improve together?”

These two sentences determine whether your child will be willing to come back to you next time they encounter difficulties.

Offering help in times of need is the most powerful function of parents. Let them feel that no matter what, you are there for them, even in their worst moments.

Finally, a message for every parent:

The average new generation will change jobs more than 16-17 times in their lifetime.

Therefore, choosing the wrong first job is not a big deal. Choosing the wrong subject can be adjusted. Failing an interview is a learning opportunity.

Life’s path is never a straight line.

The best gift we can give our children isn’t paving a smooth road for them, but rather the ability to persevere on any path they choose.

Letting go stems from your belief in them. Discipline comes from your care for them. Both are forms of love, just expressed differently.

Let’s return to the initial story.

The mother who called to resign on behalf of her son left her boss silent for a long time after he hung up.

Later, he told my friend, “I really wanted to call back and ask that mother—does he know how much you love him? Is he happy?”

No one knows the answer.

But I want to ask you: Did you let your child solve anything on their own today?

Even if it was just a small thing.

Start today.