An Open Letter to Helicopter Parents

Like with any generation, millennials get a multitude of labels: we are the "selfie generation," the "me, me, me" generation, the generation that's forgotten the art of face-to-face conversation. While this is all true to a degree, I wanted to cover a generational phenomenon that isn't primarily our fault, and one that needs to go away, like, now. That, friends, is the helicopter parent. Obviously you need to hover around your kid and make sure they learn how to be, y'know, people when they're young. You're not helicoptering your five year old, so don't freak out and accuse me of making good parents seem like royal asshats. In this particular instance, I'm talking about parents of kids in their late teens/early 20's.

Glad we got that straightened out.

The tricky thing about helicopter parents is that no one believes that they are one. I may not be a parent, but I have (too) closely observed the helicopter parent/kid relationship. I understand that this constant hovering around your kid is well-intentioned--you just want him to succeed and you feel that he lacks the maturity to make good life choices, and without your incessant nagging gentle guidance, he will fall flat on his face.

Your instincts are probably right on this one. He will, inevitably, fall on his face. He may flunk out of a class, or drink too much vodka one night, and, being a teenager and all, he will probably be more enthused by the immediate rewards of video games, rather than the long-term rewards of college. It's hard to see those you love most fail--especially when it's been pushed down your throat that you are Superparent; it's your duty to stop this failure, to make your child the next president! I've had the strong urge to motivate past boyfriends to go forth and be upstanding citizens, so I can only imagine how much stronger the instinct is with your child.

 While I understand that parents are looking out for their kids because there's much more competition for college and employment, there's a fine line between encouraging support and helicoptering. And when you cross that line, the incessant checking-in is actually going to deter your kid from being motivated to do well. Under the assumption that you've raised an intelligent, capable kid, I'm going to suggest that your child knows he has an English paper due in a week. He knows that his teeth will rot if he goes through all of college without seeing a dentist. The hard part of parenting should be over; you've given your kid the tools to succeed, and ultimately, you just have to step back and see what he does with said tools. This advice may contradict every single instinct you have, but do you really think that following every chemistry assignment your kid has is going to ensure his success? Is it really worth it when your kid gets into Harvard, but you're the one that lead the whole college search?

This not only adds a lot unnecessary stress to your life, but it's bound to make your kid feel like you're living his life for him. Sure, he's achieved a whole lot, but are they actually his achievements when you're scuttling behind him, sweeping up every little mistake?

I may be far from a "normal" real-life example, but just bear with me here. Having been raised by non-helicopter parents, from the time I was 16, my parents and I had a pact that the basic rules were "don't fuck with hard drugs, stay in school, and don't get pregnant." I made other mistakes, and my parents were less than enthused when I showed up with ink all over my body and a chain-wearing boyfriend, but I'm living to tell the tale, so something must have worked out. Somehow in the midst of my immature life choices and overly hormonal boy obsessions mistakes, I took charge of my own assignments, woke myself up for school, and even made myself dinner on occasion. Obviously I'm proud of my accomplishments because I chose the direction that I wanted to go, but I'm also extremely grateful that my parents let me fail. If I hadn't had those experiences, I would feel like an academic machine, or simply an extension of my parents.

After receiving a not-so-hot grade on an exam, I met with my professor. Instead of giving the usual "study harder" spiel, my professor noted that this generation is so afraid of failure because we know it will destroy our parents. Unlike last generation, we see failure as the end of everything, rather than as an opportunity to learn and grow. Part of this stems from the societal pressure to be superhumans, but it's also due to the fact that well-meaning helicopter parents are so invested in their kids lives, that they see this failure as their own. So you're not only pushing your kids too hard, you're pushing yourself as well. And that adds the kind of stress that no one can live with comfortably.

It's normal to want your kid to do well. But at some point, you have to shift from hovering-parent to the one in the sidelines who is cheering on your kid. Your child will probably fall harder if you step back, but he will feel more pride in his successes when they come from his own motivation to do well, rather than out of fear of disappointing you, or from getting fed up with your nagging. And I promise, just because you step back a little bit does not mean he will end up homeless, in a ditch, so just relax. You got through the hard part. Now you get to enjoy watching your kid turn into a super cool human who accomplishes shit and then you can resent him for being smarter than you, and all will be right with the world.

Namaste.