Part 11 of 17 in Rethinking Childhood: An Indian Parent’s Guide
I’ve been thinking about the concept of agency and autonomy, especially as I watch my children grow and interact with the world. Parenting in India, often conducted with the best of intentions, tends to be a tightly controlled affair. We make decisions for our children, hoping to shield them from failure and disappointment. But I ask myself: are we truly preparing them for the world they’ll inherit, or merely the world we wish existed?
Take a recent conversation I had with a founder I backed. He was struggling to pivot his startup and seemed paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong decision. His predicament reminded me of how we often raise children—guarding them from the consequences of their actions, inadvertently robbing them of valuable learning experiences. This founder, much like many young adults today, was encountering a world that demands agency but had little practice in exercising it.
In Indian classrooms, the focus is on obedience and adherence to a predefined path. A classroom of forty is easier to manage when every student waits for instructions, just as a coaching centre is easier to market when parents believe in a singular, correct path to success. Agency, in this context, is seen as a threat—an unruly element that disrupts the status quo. Yet, the irony is palpable: the real world does not come with a marking scheme or a step-by-step guide. It demands initiative, adaptability, and the ability to navigate uncharted territory.
Think about this: a child who has been taught only to follow instructions is like a sailor who knows how to row but has never raised a sail. A gentle breeze can capsize them, just as a minor setback can derail an adult unaccustomed to agency. The world beyond school gates is almost nothing but a series of decisions, each requiring a leap of faith, an educated guess, or sometimes, a wild hunch.
Consider the case of Leela, an eleven-year-old from Chennai. Faced with a science chart due the next day, her usual fallback was to rely on her father, who had historically “helped” her, often by doing most of the work. This time, he refused. Leela cried, struggled, and eventually produced a chart that was not quite up to par. She received a seven out of ten and a comment on neatness. But more importantly, she learned that she could endure the disappointment of not achieving perfection. Her father had shifted the responsibility where it belonged—not by lowering standards, but by moving them to the rightful owner.
Agency and autonomy are not gifts to be bestowed in one grand gesture. They are cultivated gradually, like a plant that grows with consistent care. You don’t hand a five-year-old the family finances, but you let them choose between two breakfasts. You allow an eight-year-old to plan a simple meal and accept that a slightly burnt roti is part of the learning curve. Each small decision reinforces the idea that their actions have consequences, and those consequences are learning opportunities.
In my practice as an IVF specialist, I’ve seen parallels between patient care and this concept of agency. Each patient deserves a personalized treatment plan, as I’ve discussed in my previous writing. Just as patients should have ownership over their healthcare decisions, children should have a say in the small but significant decisions that shape their lives.
Moreover, in the realm of education reform, where I’ve been an advocate for change, the need for agency in learning is clear. We need to move from a model that rewards rote learning to one that values critical thinking and problem-solving. This shift is essential not just for academic success but for life readiness. The ability to ask “Why this homework?” or “Can I show my working in a different way?” should be encouraged, not stifled. It’s a sentiment echoed in the lessons I’ve learned from AI tutors about real human connection and the value of questioning.
Practically speaking, there are ways to nurture autonomy without relinquishing responsibility. Offering bounded choices is a powerful tool. Instead of dictating every action, present two acceptable options and honor the choice made. Shift from commands to questions: “What’s your plan for the homework block?” rather than “Sit down now.” Allow small failures to stand as lessons, intervening only when safety or significant harm is at risk. Involve children in family decisions—Sunday plans, room rules, or pocket money management. These are not just chores but opportunities for growth.
It’s also crucial to stop asking, “What will you become?” and start asking, “What are you interested in this season?” Identities need room to evolve, and children should feel free to explore without being pigeonholed too early. When they ask for help, guide them to find the next step, not the entire staircase. This approach is not neglect; it’s mentorship. It respects the child as an active participant in their own life, an apprentice, not a product being molded.
In conclusion, fostering agency and autonomy is less about stepping back and more about stepping aside, allowing children to take the lead while providing the necessary support to ensure they don’t fall too hard. It’s about preparing them for a world without marking schemes, where their ability to think, adapt, and decide will determine their success more than any exam score ever could. As we consider the future of our children, let’s remember that the greatest gift we can give them is the confidence to navigate their own lives.