Part 18 of 29 in Helping Your Children Learn: What Parents Need to Know← Part 17Part 19 →
I’ve been thinking about the pressure we inadvertently pile onto our children during their board years. Last week, a parent came to me, visibly stressed, asking how to best support her son who was preparing for his exams. Her concern was genuine, yet there was a palpable undercurrent of fear — fear of the exams, fear of the future, and perhaps most poignantly, fear of failing her child. This is not an isolated sentiment. It’s a narrative I encounter far too often, both in educational settings and in the startup world where founders face their own versions of ‘boards’.
The truth is, boards and entrance exams are not illusions. They are tangible realities that our children must confront if they wish to pursue certain academic paths. But they are not the be-all and end-all of a child’s existence. They are merely constraints, much like a lane that merges onto a main road, guiding but not defining the journey. John Holt, the educational theorist, would argue that while these exams test certain skills, they do not measure a child’s worth or potential. His work reminds us that our role as parents is not to abolish the challenge but to change the terms, to help our children face these exams with a healthier perspective.
A hands-on parent during board year does fewer things, but does them more honestly. This is not about micromanaging every aspect of your child’s study schedule. Rather, it’s about understanding the syllabus, not pretending it doesn’t exist, and helping your child see the exam paper as a genre with its own habits and patterns. It’s about using past papers as tools for understanding, much like a recipe is a guide for a dish, not a substitute for knowing how to cook.
There is a workable bargain to be struck here, one that balances preparation with sanity. Let one exam season be just that — a season, not a permanent state of existence starting from Class 6. Sleep, as trivial as it may seem, is not negotiable. A tired memory falters much like a fatigued cricket team drops catches. And doubts should not be left to fester. They need a shameless outlet, be it you or a teacher like Eklavya, addressed the same day they arise. A doubt saved for later often becomes a doubt hidden forever.
Moreover, one evening a week should remain your child’s, even in the thick of January’s exam fever. A mind without life outside the paper becomes brittle, prone to cracking under pressure. After the exams, the so-called post-mortems should focus on the questions themselves, not on what the relatives might say. This is about the child’s growth, not your social standing.
If your child has no desire to take the entrance exam everyone in the colony is sitting for, do not surrender a year of their life to soothe a story you might narrate at social gatherings. There are many paths to a fulfilling life. Medicine and engineering are just two of them. Often, a child who feels trusted will aim high on their own accord, while one who feels managed will merely aim to silence the noise around them.
So, here’s a question worth pondering: Are you preparing for an exam your child has chosen, or are you preparing for a conversation you are afraid to have? This is a question I pose not just to you but to myself as well, as both a parent and an investor. In the startup world, founders face similar dilemmas, often feeling pressured to conform to a certain path laid out by investors or market expectations. But just like our children, they too deserve the opportunity to choose their own paths, to pursue ventures that truly resonate with them rather than ones that merely satisfy external demands.
In my own journey as an angel investor, I have often drawn parallels between the pressures of academia and the startup ecosystem. Just as students must navigate the constraints of exams, founders must navigate the expectations of boards and investors. But here’s the thing — while constraints are inevitable, they need not be limiting. Constraints can be the crucible in which creativity is forged, provided they are approached with the right mindset.
In one of my earlier blog posts, “You Are the Expert on This Child” (https://www.indianangel.in/you-are-the-expert-on-this-child/), I emphasized the importance of trusting one’s instincts as a parent. The same applies to founders; they are the experts on their ventures. They must learn to face boards without surrendering their visions. Similarly, children must learn to face exams without surrendering their identities.
Recognizing that the system is imperfect is the first step. But more importantly, we must recognize that our children, like the startups we invest in, are not defined by one exam or one board meeting. They are defined by their ability to think, to question, and to grow beyond the constraints placed before them.
As parents and mentors, our role is to support this growth, to ensure that sleep is non-negotiable, that doubts are addressed head-on, and that our children retain a life beyond the paper. Let’s not kidnap a year of their lives to fit into a narrative that serves no one in the long run. Trust them to aim high, and more often than not, they will.
In closing, we must ask ourselves the hard questions and confront our own fears. Are we truly preparing our children for the lives they wish to lead, or are we preparing them for conversations we are hesitant to have? This reflection is as crucial in the boardrooms of startups as it is in the living rooms of our homes. Let’s choose to face the board, be it academic or corporate, without surrendering the child within.