Try Not to Chase After the Schoolbus

A few years ago, Julie Lythcott-Haims, a former Stanford dean, wrote an essay for parents about not chasing after the school bus. The simple message—if your child forgets something, don't rush to school to drop it off—sparked numerous conversations. The logic proposed that acting as their personal concierge encourages them never to exercise the memory muscles necessary for a life of independence. As a parent with two kids, I know this guidance isn't easy to follow. In fact, there are times when it feels nearly impossible. 

Parenting, whether it involves implementing the Ferber method to help our kids fall asleep, learning to temper our reactions every time they misbehave, or not treating each homecoming as if they had just returned from a trek across the Arctic, requires a delicate balance. As a former colleague often asked, "What's a parent to do?" My answer: Do your best, and know why you are doing it. I was pretty good at not chasing after the proverbial school bus; it would have been hypocritical if I hadn't followed the guidance I was giving to parents each year. However, despite knowing better, I occasionally found myself dashing home to grab a forgotten homework assignment or taking a flashlight to search for an abandoned backpack at night. A quick aside—how does a kid weighing 75 pounds forget an item that weighs more than 20? Do your best. 

The beginning of the school year signals that it's time for our students to adjust once again to the practices necessary for returning to the work of learning. Old habits need to be dusted off and new ones developed. Organizing their backpacks, making their own lunch, checking their planners are worthy routines to instill. As parents and caregivers, we play a crucial role in helping our children gain this independence, even while acknowledging the role we play in cultivating our own lamentable obsolescence. Admittedly, the long-term gain of not chasing after the bus can feel too abstract when they plead with us, looking at us with those captivating eyes. Just as my infant daughter needed to learn how to comfort herself to fall asleep, our children need to understand the power of their own decision-making and agency. My kids are in their 30s now, dealing with their own check-engine lights, and yet I still work hard to resist the temptation to check their location on the FindMy app. The complexities of parenting remain, and the challenge is a worthy one.