Part 5 of 19 in Trust Yourself: A Guide for Indian Parents← Part 4Part 6 →
I was observing a consultation the other day, and it struck me how often parents defer to the perceived authority of professionals like me. But here’s something I’ve learned over the years: when it comes to knowing your child, you are the expert. This isn’t just a sentimental statement; it’s a practical truth that can make a real difference in your child’s life.
Take Meenal from Nagpur, for instance. Her son was struggling with math, or so the tuition teacher and the class teacher said. Marksheets painted a picture of deficiency. But Meenal, with her innate understanding of her child, decided to do something most parents wouldn’t consider “proactive.” She sat with him, not to teach, but to observe. In just a few evenings, she realized the problem wasn’t with numbers but with language. She switched to Marathi for word problems, and voila, the math issues started to resolve. Meenal’s intervention wasn’t just wisdom; it was a recalibration of the lens through which her child’s abilities were viewed.
This type of insight isn’t unique to Meenal. It’s available to every parent who dares to believe that they know their child better than anyone else. You see, there are two kinds of knowledge. The first is general—what developmental milestones are expected, what academic syllabi contain, what medical charts indicate. This is the knowledge that we, as professionals, often wield. But the second is particular—it’s what you know about your child when they’re not in the spotlight, what makes them tick or freeze, what their laughter sounds like when it’s genuine. This knowledge isn’t just valuable; it’s indispensable.
Kavita from Patna offers another example. Her daughter was deemed “average” by her school. But Kavita noticed her daughter’s ability to explain complex systems like the municipal water supply in Bhojpuri, a skill that somehow didn’t translate into classroom success. Instead of rushing to external solutions, she started a simple kitchen notebook project. This bridging of home and school language barriers revealed an intelligent, observant child—an insight that no standardized test could provide.
These stories underscore a broader point: experts, whether in education or healthcare, can offer guidance, but they can’t replace the nuanced understanding that comes from living with and loving your child. You know the baseline, the motive, and the experimental tweaks that have worked or failed. This isn’t a criticism of professionals—it’s a call for collaboration. When you see a doctor or a teacher, bring your insights into the room. Share when the issue started, what you’ve tried, and how your child behaves on their best days. This kind of information is invaluable.
When I mentor startups, I often draw parallels from my medical practice. Founders, like parents, are the experts on their ventures. They live and breathe every nuance of their operations. Yet, they’re often quick to defer to external advisors. My advice to them is the same: no one knows your startup—or your child—better than you do.
In our increasingly data-driven world, there’s a tendency to trust numbers over intuition. But numbers can lie, or at least misrepresent the truth. Just as Meenal and Kavita found, the real data often lies in the everyday interactions you’re observing but perhaps not documenting. If you’re not the type to remember everything, jot down three lines at night: what happened, what you tried, and what changed. Over time, this becomes a treasure trove of insights that no one else can provide.
The art of parenting, much like the art of investing, is not about picking winners from the outset. It’s about recognizing potential and nurturing it, adapting strategies as new information comes to light. Whether you’re dealing with a child who struggles in school or a startup founder seeking investment, the principle remains: bring your particular knowledge into the room. That’s where real collaboration begins.
In my experience, the most profound changes occur not when we blindly follow expert advice, but when we integrate it with our own insights. So next time you’re in a consultation—be it in a doctor’s office, a classroom, or a boardroom—don’t shy away from sharing what you know. You may find that your perspective shifts the entire narrative.
In the end, expertise is not an external validation but an internal realization. You are the expert on your child, and that’s not a consolation prize; it’s the main event. So trust yourself, trust your observations, and don’t hesitate to let others know what you see. Your child, like any great startup, is a unique entity, and you are its most informed advocate.