Part 2 of 19 in How to Coach Your Child: A Handbook for Indian Parents← Part 1Part 3 →
I’ve been thinking a lot about the role we play as parents, educators, and even investors. It strikes me that the principles guiding each of these roles overlap more often than we realize. There’s a particular aspect about coaching—something I’ve encountered both in the clinic and in boardrooms—that has been lingering in my mind. It’s not about controlling or dictating, but about guiding and enabling. And this is precisely what this handbook aims to do.
When I first came across Haim Ginott’s “Between Parent and Child,” it was like uncovering a treasure trove of wisdom that had somehow managed to escape the clutches of time. This isn’t just a guide for parents; it’s a manifesto for anyone who finds themselves in a position to influence another person’s growth. It’s about acknowledging emotions without necessarily giving in to every demand, a nuance that, in my experience, is often missed in both parenting and managing investments.
Now, why does this concept work? The answer is elegantly simple: it respects individuality while maintaining boundaries. In my practice as an IVF specialist, I’ve learned that not every treatment suits every patient, just as not every strategy suits every startup. The trick is to know where to draw the line without crossing into the realm of autocracy. This handbook doesn’t promise miraculous transformations. It won’t make your child—or your startup—obedient. Obedience is overrated, anyways. What you want is a sense of agency equipped with the wisdom to navigate through conflict without humiliation.
The three moves mentioned in the handbook—naming the feeling, holding the limit, and returning agency—are not merely instructions. They’re crucial life skills that, when mastered, can transform a chaotic household—or even a floundering startup—into a well-oiled machine. Let’s break these down.
1. Name the Feeling Without Agreeing to the Demand Here’s a scenario: you want to keep your child from endless screen time. You say, “I see you wanted to continue watching that show, but the answer is still no.” You’re acknowledging their desire without capitulating to it. Similarly, in the world of startups, when a founder insists on a pivot that doesn’t align with the business’s core, you acknowledge their passion but remind them of the company’s vision.
2. Hold the Limit Without Attacking the Person This is perhaps the most demanding yet rewarding move. In parenting, it’s telling your child, “Homework stays in your hands. I will not do the answers.” In investing, it’s about maintaining fiscal discipline without belittling the founder. When I tell a startup team that the budget must remain as planned, it’s not an attack on their creativity; it’s a safeguard for their future.
3. Return Agency Give options, but let them own the decision. “You can start with maths or science. I am here if a step is stuck, not to take the pencil.” This applies beautifully to startups. As investors, we can guide, but it’s the founders who must make the call. We can point them to resources, but the onus of execution is theirs.
A common thread I see running through both parenting and investing is the swing between harshness and guilt. It’s easy to sway from one extreme to the other, but neither serves the purpose of growth. In startups, this is akin to oscillating between micromanagement and neglect. What we need is a sentence that is already patient, already firm. This handbook offers phrases that are short enough to wield when time is of the essence, yet potent enough to effect change.
It’s crucial to note what this handbook won’t do. It won’t magically resolve conflict or make your child—or your startup—compliant. Compliance is not the end goal. In both domains, what we’re aiming for is a form of conflict that allows for growth. An environment where both parties can express their needs without fear of humiliation.
The handbook also makes it clear that it’s not therapy, and it’s not medical advice. If a child or a startup is in crisis—whether it’s a child talking about self-harm, or a startup unable to pay its employees—it’s time to seek professional help. Coaching language is for ordinary storms, not emergencies.
In the Indian context, where familial ties run deep and societal expectations are often suffocating, this handbook serves as a breath of fresh air. It respects our cultural nuances while offering a practical framework for communication. So, if a line helps, use it. If a relative asks where it came from, tell them it’s an old idea, rewritten for our times.
Ultimately, this handbook is not just for parents. It’s for anyone who is a coach at heart, whether you’re guiding a child, mentoring a startup, or even counseling a patient. It teaches us that our role is not to play the match but to name what’s happening, keep the rules, and hand the next decision back. It’s a philosophy that I’ve found immensely useful, whether I’m wearing my hat as a doctor, an investor, or an advocate for education reform.
In a world that often swings between chaos and order, finding this balance is not just important—it’s essential. And while Ginott wrote for American parents in the 1960s, the wisdom is timeless and universal, fitting seamlessly into our Indian homes and boardrooms. As someone who straddles the worlds of medicine, investment, and education, I can say with conviction that this handbook offers something valuable for each of these domains. It’s not about creating obedient followers; it’s about nurturing thoughtful leaders. And that, in my book, is a goal worth striving for.