Part 7 of 17 in The Engaged Indian Teen
I’ve been thinking about the way we heap praise on our overachieving children and the unseen costs this brings. It’s a conversation that rarely makes it to the dinner table, but it’s one we must have. Last week, a fellow parent proudly described their child’s packed schedule: top grades, sports, music, and a smattering of extracurricular clubs. They spoke of it with a reverence akin to narrating a legend. Yet, what stood out to me was the subtle tremor in their voice when they mentioned their child’s struggles with sleep and anxiety.
This is not an isolated case. In India, the “Achiever Mode” has become our unofficial creed. We’ve built a middle class on it, celebrating the child who aces exams, excels in extracurriculars, and still finds time to prep for competitive exams. But there’s a hidden fragility in this relentless pursuit of excellence — a fragility in praise itself.
The mental health of high-performing adolescents in our competitive cities is a growing concern. I’ve seen it in my own practice and among the young founders I’ve mentored. Sleep reduced to mere hours, a refusal to try new things for fear of not excelling, and the tears after scoring 98 because someone else scored 99. This isn’t hunger for success; it’s a nervous system tuned to avoid failure at all costs.
The role of coaching centers in this dynamic cannot be ignored. They amplify this Achiever Mode by turning learning into a contest of speed and rankings. Weekly tests ranked, batches reshuffled publicly, and percentiles leaked in WhatsApp groups — all serve to underscore a single, damaging message: knowing something faster than your peer is the pinnacle of achievement. But what happens when the peer is an AI system that can outpace any human? This is a terrible education for life, where real-world problems are messy and undefined.
In the startup world, I’ve seen a similar pattern. Founders who excel at pitching, who have meticulously crafted business plans, but falter when the unpredictable chaos of real entrepreneurship hits. The comfort of being ‘the best’ in a familiar setting does not prepare them for the unpredictability of a startup’s journey. It’s the same story, different stage.
So, what can we do instead? The way out begins with how we praise. Celebrate the struggle and the learning process, not the podium finish. When a child spends time wrestling with a problem, acknowledge their effort, not just the result. Ask them about their sleep, friends, and appetite before inquiring about their marks. This isn’t softening; it’s diagnostic. A child who can’t sleep well is not a better student; they’re a student in distress.
Consider Kabir, a Bengaluru student whose packed schedule led to a panic attack. His parents’ instinct was to add more structure and remove what seemed non-essential. But a wise teacher suggested the opposite: keep the joy, drop the prestige activity. For Kabir, this meant keeping basketball and dropping the startup club, which had been added solely for the college application. The panic didn’t vanish, but it became manageable, and Kabir learned that his worth was not tied to winning every accolade. This kind of reframing is what our children truly need.
Encourage them to take small, safe risks. Let them write about topics they don’t dominate, participate in debates they might lose, or cook a meal that might fail. These experiences teach that worth is not diminished by imperfect outcomes. In entrepreneurship, this is akin to pivoting a business model when the first doesn’t succeed — a skill far more valuable than knowing every answer on a test.
Families should also help their children envision multiple futures. The Indian narrative often collapses the future into a single, narrow path. But life is not a single corridor. There are many honourable and fulfilling paths, and young people should know they have the freedom to pivot. This is a lesson I’ve learned repeatedly in both my medical practice and my investment ventures. A single failure does not define us, just as a single success does not complete us.
In a world increasingly defined by rapid changes and uncertainties, this ability to adapt and find joy in the process rather than the result is more crucial than ever. We need to teach our children that their self-worth is not outsourced to their performance. It is inherent, and it survives beyond grades and accolades.
The fragility in praise is real, but so is the resilience in learning to thrive amidst imperfections. Let’s start celebrating that.