Part 13 of 19 in Trust Yourself: A Guide for Indian Parents← Part 12Part 14 →
I’ve been thinking a lot about agency lately, particularly in the context of Indian households and the upbringing of children. This reflection came to me while observing the behavior of a young patient at my IVF clinic, who seemed unusually passive for her age. She reminded me of the many children I’ve seen who are brought up with the idea that agency is somehow indulgent, a luxury they can’t afford. But let me be blunt: agency isn’t indulgence. It’s a necessity.
In many Indian homes, agency — a child’s ability to make choices that impact their own lives — is often mistaken for indiscipline. This misconception is not just a minor parenting faux pas; it has far-reaching consequences that manifest in adulthood. I often see founders struggling with decision-making, hesitant to take initiative, simply because they were never allowed to make choices as children. They were conditioned to wait for orders, to seek approval for every minor decision. And then, when they enter the startup world, they’re suddenly expected to be decisive leaders. It’s a cruel irony that we set them up for failure when we could have equipped them with the tools for success from a young age.
I remember a story from Surat that encapsulates this issue perfectly. A mother would pack the perfect tiffin for her child and call during lunch to ensure it was eaten. The child, exercising agency in the only way she knew how, started buying chips instead. The mother saw this as rebellion, but it was actually a covert form of agency. When the mother finally allowed the child to choose what went into the tiffin, the “waste” initially increased but soon decreased. The child learned to predict her own hunger better than her mother’s surveillance could, and the mother learned that her daughter wasn’t a generic child needing monitoring, but a particular child needing trust.
This brings me to the crux of the matter: why do we equate agency with indulgence? The answer lies in our cultural norms that equate control with care and obedience with virtue. However, respect doesn’t mean giving children votes on bedtime; it means explaining the reasons behind decisions and allowing them to make choices within set boundaries. For example, “We are leaving at four. You may bring one toy. You may not bring the tablet.” The limit is adult; the choice within it is the child’s.
Let me give you another example — Leela from Thiruvananthapuram. Her parents chose her hobbies, her stream inclination, even her birthday themes. She was described as mature, but what it really meant was obedient. At thirteen, she couldn’t order her own meal in a restaurant without looking to her mother for approval. Her parents decided to try a small experiment; for one month, Leela was allowed to choose dinner one night a week and handle the vegetable purchases herself. Initially, she chose noodles and too many beans. But the seller corrected her, not unkindly. By the fourth week, she could ask questions in a shop without needing her parents to act as translators. What they called maturity was actually a lack of practice. Agency, it turned out, was the practice she needed.
Now, let’s talk about the intersection of agency and work. A child who never contributes learns that life is a service they receive. Laying plates, folding clothes, watering plants — these aren’t character-building exercises; they’re fundamental ways a child discovers they can change a room. Indian help and love often combine to spare the child every effort. But while sparing them humiliation, don’t spare them every effect. Agency also means work, and work means understanding the impact of one’s actions.
In my Chapter 2: Curiosity and Agency, I delve deeper into how curiosity fuels agency. When children are allowed to explore their curiosity, they naturally develop the agency to make informed decisions. This is a skill that is indispensable in both personal and professional life. In contrast, when we stifle curiosity, we stifle agency. We end up with adults who are unprepared for the complexities of the real world, much like an IVF patient struggling with the emotional turmoil of treatment because they’ve never been taught to navigate their own feelings.
So what can we do to change this narrative? For starters, we need to redefine what agency means within the household. Parents should see themselves as facilitators of their children’s agency, not as gatekeepers of their choices. This involves more than just giving them options; it requires teaching them to live with the consequences of their decisions, a lesson far more valuable than any academic achievement.
In the startup world, I often advise founders to cultivate a culture of agency within their teams. Encourage employees to make decisions and own their outcomes, much like we should encourage children to do. This is not a call for anarchy but for responsible freedom. It fosters a sense of ownership and accountability that can significantly impact a company’s success.
To circle back to the personal, I find that agency is something we can all practice more of in our lives, irrespective of age. Whether it’s deciding the order of our tasks or choosing to say no to unnecessary commitments, exercising agency is empowering. It allows us to live lives that are authentically ours, rather than lives dictated by the expectations of others.
In conclusion, agency is not an indulgence; it’s a necessity. It is the foundation upon which we build competent adults, responsible leaders, and empathetic human beings. Whether in parenting, medicine, or entrepreneurship, the lesson is clear: allow for agency, and you’ll be surprised at the capability and resilience that unfolds.