Beyond happiness: What our children really need

Two or three decades ago, as children hurried out of the house for school, parents would call after them with a familiar list of reminders: “Study hard, complete your work, don’t lose your books and, above all, eat your tiffin!” Today, the parting words are more likely to be: “Have a good time!” The difference is telling. The reminders may have changed, but one thing has not: parents still want the best for their children. What has perhaps changed is the emphasis we place on what makes for a good childhood.

We all want our children to enjoy their childhood, do well at school, have good friends and make the most of the opportunities available to them. Yet, in our determination to provide the best of everything, do we stop to consider what happiness means from their point of view? Good examination results, holidays and smiles in family photographs may suggest that all is well, but they reveal little about what a young person might be experiencing privately.

For a child, happiness is not simply good grades, the latest gadgets or getting everything one asks for. It is feeling loved, secure and accepted; having friends, being able to speak freely and knowing there is someone to turn to when things go wrong. It also means being comfortable enough to be oneself without constantly trying to meet other people’s expectations. Happiness, of course, does not mean being cheerful every day. Disappointment, anxiety and sadness are part of growing up, and children need room to experience these emotions without feeling obliged to conceal them.

Parents devote enormous time and energy to their families. We select schools, arrange activities, follow academic progress and think constantly about the future. Many of us are determined to provide opportunities that we never had ourselves. There is nothing wrong with this. But in the business of organising a good childhood, we can become so preoccupied with what our children are doing that we overlook how they are actually coping.

Telling the whole story

I have seen this distinction repeatedly, first as a school principal and later through my work supporting school leaders and schools. Academic achievement and personal well-being do not always go hand in hand. Some pupils perform exceptionally well, take part in numerous activities and appear to have everything going for them, yet carry anxieties that are not immediately apparent. Over the years, I have learnt that a child’s performance in the classroom does not necessarily tell the whole story. A report card can record academic progress, but it cannot tell us how a child feels about themselves or what they may be struggling with.

Schools have become more conscious of this wider responsibility. Counsellors, special educators and other support professionals help pupils navigate difficulties that can affect both learning and life beyond the classroom. This is welcome progress, but schools cannot do the job alone. The strongest support comes when parents and educators share concerns, communicate openly and work together.

At home, however, it is not always easy to discover what is troubling a young person. We ask how the day went, whether homework is complete, how an examination went and who they spent time with. The answers are often brief and sometimes delivered with the unmistakable expression that the interview is over! We can be quite thorough in our questioning, although our enthusiasm is not always reciprocated. The challenge is to make everyday conversation something children look forward to, rather than another opportunity to report on their performance.

An easier option

If every problem brings criticism, a lecture or an immediate attempt to put things right, silence can seem the easier option. Our instinct is to protect and advise, but not every difficulty needs a solution from us. Sometimes, a young person simply wants to talk without being judged or interrupted. Learning when to offer advice and when to hold back is not always easy for parents, but it is an important part of growing up together.

This is all the more relevant in a world very different from the one in which many of us grew up. Childhood is now shaped by constant stimulation and an almost uninterrupted flow of digital activity. The sheer volume of information and interaction can be difficult for adults to appreciate, let alone regulate. Parents are trying to make sense of an environment in which their children may be considerably more at ease than they are. The approaches that served us well may not always work today; equally, we should not dismiss experiences simply because they are unfamiliar.

We expect the younger generation to listen to us, learn from our experience and respect our decisions. But are we equally prepared to hear them out when their views differ from ours? They may have a point, even if they do not express it particularly well. Admitting that we have made a mistake does not weaken parental authority. It shows children that adults, too, are capable of learning.

Missing everyday contact

There is another aspect of family life worth considering, particularly in the UAE, where many families live thousands of miles from grandparents and other older relatives. Children can miss the everyday contact that earlier generations often took for granted. Grandparents bring family stories, shared memories and a perspective shaped by another time. They can offer advice, occasionally disagree with the parents and still remain everyone’s favourite. They can even return the children after a visit, having enjoyed all the fun without having to deal with the homework! Beyond the humour, these relationships give children a sense of family history, continuity and belonging that is difficult to replace.

Much of what children learn about relationships, responsibility and respect comes not from formal instruction but from observing the adults around them. They notice how we speak to one another, settle disagreements and respond when things go wrong. Patience, consideration and honesty are best understood when they are demonstrated, not merely demanded.

None of this means that previous generations got parenting wrong. Each had its own concerns, and parents have always tried to do what they believed was best. We will lose our patience, make mistakes and sometimes wish we had handled a situation differently. What matters is that our children know they can approach us honestly, without having to pretend that everything is fine.

Perhaps the real measure of a happy childhood is not the number of opportunities provided, the grades achieved or the smiles captured in photographs. It is whether a young person grows up feeling loved and valued, including when things do not go according to plan.

Years later, the details of particular lessons, examinations and activities may fade but what will definitely endure, is the memory of how home felt, how they were treated and whether they knew they could turn to us. That is a legacy worth giving them.

Michael Guzder is Executive Vice-President, Education at GEMS