
Part 14 of 19 in How to Coach Your Child: A Handbook for Indian Parents← Part 13Part 15 →
I’ve been reflecting on a scene that is all too familiar in Indian households. It’s late at night, and the school project is still a blank sheet on the dining table. The father, well-meaning but misguided, sends his child to bed and takes on the task himself. By morning, the project is complete, and it earns top marks. But what has the child learned? Certainly not about responsibility or creativity, but perhaps about avoiding discomfort at all costs. This pattern, repeated across many aspects of a child’s life, leads to an adulthood where the first real failure is monumental and public.
In my practice as an IVF specialist, I’ve seen countless parents who wish to protect their children from every possible disappointment. They believe they’re doing their best by smoothing every bump in the road. However, in my experience, this approach can rob children of the opportunity to develop resilience. A child who never experiences small failures is unprepared when life inevitably throws something larger their way.
I’ve pondered this in the context of my work as an angel investor as well. Many of the founders I back have faced significant setbacks before achieving success. They’ve learned to navigate failure, to adapt, and to grow. It’s a critical skill, one that I consider when deciding which startups to invest in. The ability to endure and overcome failure is often what separates a successful entrepreneur from one who folds at the first sign of trouble.
The same principle applies to education. Our system, obsessed with marks and rote learning, often doesn’t leave room for real-world problem solving or creative thinking. Students are not encouraged to take risks, ask questions, or learn from their mistakes. It’s a system that rewards compliance over innovation, which leads to a workforce that is adept at following instructions but not at forging new paths.
Allowing children to face small failures can be transformative. Let them forget their water bottle once in a while. Let them go to school with an imperfect costume. These are the manageable failures that can teach them so much more than a perfect score ever could. The key is not to leave them without support, but to shift the focus from solving their problems for them to guiding them through the aftermath of their choices.
Failure needs a debrief, not a rescue. When a child faces a setback, it’s an opportunity for growth. The conversation should begin with acknowledgement—“That must have felt disappointing”—and progress to autonomy—“What do you think you could do differently next time?” This is not about rubbing salt in the wound, but about helping them navigate their emotions and derive actionable insights from their experiences.
This isn’t just theory. I’ve seen it play out in practice. A friend of mine, a coach, once let his son take an unfinished project to school. The next day was tough—the embarrassment was palpable. But instead of shielding him, the father asked, “What could you have done to avoid this?” The child learned to start his work earlier, to manage his time better. Importantly, he learned that his actions have consequences, a lesson far more valuable than any grade.
In entrepreneurship, this translates to the ability to pivot when a business model fails, to iterate on a product that doesn’t resonate with users, or to seek out feedback and learn from it, rather than ignoring it. These are the entrepreneurs who thrive, the ones who understand that failure is not the end, but rather a step along the path to success.
Choices must be real to be meaningful. Offering children real choices—what to wear, how to spend their saved money, what to attempt first—empowers them. It teaches them decision-making, prioritization, and accountability. Fake choices, like asking if they want to apologize now or later, only teach them that adult language can be a trap.
As they grow older, these choices become more consequential. Career decisions, for example, should be framed as real choices rather than dictated paths. Show them the constraints, the realities of fees and entrance exams, but allow them to explore and decide. It’s okay to express your fears—“I worry if you drop mathematics”—but don’t let it turn into a veto disguised as experience. Real agency, the ability to make choices and learn from them, is a gift we can give our children.
In the startup world, I’ve observed that founders who were given the space to make real choices often display a remarkable level of creativity and resilience. They are not afraid to experiment, to fail, and to learn. They understand that each small setback is a chance to refine their ideas and approach.
In conclusion, the intersection of parenting, education, and even entrepreneurship teaches us that real agency is about allowing choices and accepting small failures. It’s about preparing for life’s inevitable challenges with the understanding that each misstep is not a failure, but an invaluable lesson in disguise. The small failures we allow today create the foundation for resilience and success tomorrow. As I reflect on this, I am reminded of the words of a wise coach: “An unfinished project is not a failure; it is a step in the learning journey.” May we all be coaches in our children’s lives, guiding them to face the blank sheets with courage and creativity.