On December 27, 2025, parents and educators found themselves at the crossroads of two powerful conversations about raising children—one rooted in timeless spiritual wisdom, the other in the urgent realities of modern parenting. Both perspectives, though seemingly worlds apart, converged on a single point: how we see our children shapes who they become, and sometimes the best thing we can do is simply step back and let them shine.
In Episode 33 of the Optimizing Mothers Podcast, host Mrs. Sara Blau welcomed Mrs. Risa Pewzner to discuss chinuch—the Jewish approach to education—through the lens of the 12 Pesukim. But this wasn’t just another chat about slogans or rote learning. According to the podcast, the real challenge is “seeing our children for who they are,” not for their mistakes or struggles, but as nefesh Elokis: pure souls, deeply connected to Hashem. The message? Children are not defined by their failures. Instead, they are Hashem’s soldiers, equipped to face challenges, always worthy of pride and belief—even when things get tough.
“Our children are not slaves to their yetzer hara. It is something external to them, not who they are,” Mrs. Pewzner shared during the episode, as cited by bethrivkah.edu. “They always have the ability to choose differently.” The pair emphasized that children need to hear, again and again, that Hashem is with them in every challenge, watching and believing in them. In a world where kids are often measured by grades, trophies, or how well they “behave,” this approach reframes the conversation: children are inherently good, and their worth isn’t up for debate.
Listeners can find this episode—titled “The Rebbe’s Chinuch Language – Mommy Edition”—at www.bethrivkah.edu/brpodcast or on popular podcast platforms. The timing of its release couldn’t have been more fitting, as it landed the same day as another thought-provoking piece that’s been making waves among parents across North America.
That article, published on December 27, 2025, took a hard look at the phenomenon of over-involved parenting and the unintended consequences it’s having on a generation of children. The author, Kaili Colford, didn’t mince words: “I’m ignoring my kids. It sounds terrible, but after a decade of parenting and noticing the signs of the ‘anxious generation’ all around me, I’ve come to realize that some of our well-intentioned habits may be sabotaging childhood.”
Colford’s reflections are backed by hard data. A national C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital poll found that 44 percent of parents of children ages five to eight, and over half of parents of nine to 11-year-olds, worry about safety to the point of limiting their children’s independence. Even more striking: 56 percent believe that unsupervised children “cause trouble,” and 45 percent of parents describe themselves as overprotective, according to Pew’s Parenting in America Today.
The author describes a familiar scene—parents hovering at the playground, narrating every move, offering constant praise, and stepping in at the first sign of discomfort. But is this really helping? Colford argues that these instincts, while rooted in love and a desire to protect, may actually be fueling the very anxiety parents hope to prevent.
“We’re a generation offering love as overprotection, gripped by post-pandemic fears, the constant scroll of parenting advice, and the noise of social media seeping into childhood itself,” she writes. The result? Kids who are less resilient, less independent, and more anxious about facing the world on their own.
Dr. Nina Mafrici, a clinical psychologist and co-director at Toronto Psychology & Wellness Group, weighed in on why this matters. “Clinically, we’re seeing a generation of children with fewer opportunities to experience manageable frustration and recover from it. When parents absorb all the uncertainty, kids lose the chance to develop emotional muscles like patience, problem-solving, and distress tolerance. The more anxious the parent is about preventing discomfort, the more anxious the child becomes about facing it.”
Colford’s solution is deceptively simple: do less, and let kids do more. She recounts moments of resisting the urge to intervene—letting her children climb higher at the playground, solve their own disputes, and even wonder about the world without immediate explanations. “Every step back I take is an invitation for my children to step forward,” she notes, recalling her own childhood memories of unsupervised adventures and the confidence they built.
Lenore Skenazy, president of Let Grow and author of Free-Range Kids, echoed this sentiment. “We think we have to provide kids with ‘teachable moments.’ But kids learn more when their minds get opened by wonder, which requires a chance to actually wonder, not to be taught.” Skenazy, once dubbed “America’s Worst Mom” for letting her nine-year-old ride the subway alone, has long advocated for giving children more freedom and fewer lectures. She points out that even small acts of independence—like ordering their own meal or solving a problem with a teacher—can spark genuine pride and growth.
“Confidence doesn’t grow in moments of perfect comfort; it grows in the small spaces where children are trusted to figure things out for themselves. From a developmental perspective, this distance is not detachment; it’s faith in the child’s capacity to cope and adapt,” Dr. Mafrici concludes.
Both the podcast and the article, though arising from different traditions, ultimately champion the same core principle: trust in children. Whether it’s a matter of spiritual faith, as in the belief that children are “pure, good, and deeply connected to Hashem,” or psychological confidence in their ability to cope and adapt, the message is clear. Overprotection—however well-intentioned—can undermine the very qualities we hope to foster: resilience, wonder, and self-worth.
Of course, stepping back isn’t always easy. Parents face immense pressure, both from within and from the ever-watchful eyes of other adults. Skenazy acknowledges this, saying, “It’s unfortunate that judging parents has become a national pastime. When questioned about missing [one] practices, the truth is this: ‘I love my kids, but that’s their time to play. I trust them and their coach, and they know they are loved, even if I’m not there for every goal.’”
In the end, perhaps the most radical act of love is not to hover, but to trust. To see children not as projects to be managed, but as individuals already equipped with the potential to thrive. Whether you’re inspired by ancient teachings or modern research, the call is the same: let kids be kids, and watch them grow.
