For many years in January, I taught a graduate course at a school in Orlando. One of my students proposed we take a break from class early one afternoon to watch the launch of the Space Shuttle some miles away at Cape Canaveral. Even from that distance we could see the huge plumes of fire and smoke from the solid fuel rocket boosters during the liftoff. The students spontaneously broke into cheers and applause seeing this amazing sight. Although we could not physically see this stage, as the Space Shuttle neared the edge of space and weightlessness, the two solid booster engines broke away from the shuttle body and parachuted into the ocean. At that point, the on-board engines took over and propelled the Space Shuttle to its mission.

When our sons were growing up, we talked about how the Space Shuttle was a metaphor for what Anne and I believed to be our primary mission in their lives. We wanted most of all to provide them with a loving and safe home, but then also to do everything within our power to get our sons into the highest orbit possible. We did everything we knew to do to help our sons develop and grow academically, socially, athletically, spiritually, and personally. We tried to set high expectations from their earliest years. Before they were even aware of what a space shuttle was, they knew intuitively we expected them to pursue a high calling. Anne and I laugh today about the unfurnished living room in our home. Almost no sacrifice was too great to ensure that the boys had every opportunity to grow into their potential.

What we also told them was just like the solid rocket boosters, we would someday soon drop away and parachute into the ocean, metaphorically speaking. At that point, the on-board engines would have to take over. They would become fully responsible for themselves. They would have to use their own resources to propel their lives forward, including the wisdom and judgment to make good decisions. We would be cheering for them and awed by their future accomplishments but they were not to expect that Anne and I would be the source of propulsion.

The space shuttle may be a good metaphor for anyone who seeks to help children reach their potential. Certainly, parents want this for their children, but there are also teachers, coaches, religious leaders, and others who work with children and want those under their care to reach high and to learn to thrive on their own.

Courage to Fight for Our Children's Well-Being

Are we willing to fight for our children and to even risk their embarrassment to protect them? I will never forget the mother of one of Jim's high school football teammates who learned that her son (a future Division I player) earned a C on a math test. She stormed down to the practice field in high heels and walked into the middle of a live scrimmage after the play had already started. With bodies flying everywhere, she grabbed her son by the face mask and dragged him to the sidelines. She told him that he could not return to football practice until he made a better grade on the test. Under protest he immediately left football practice for after-school help still wearing his pads. The most entertaining part of the story is that all the coaches stood silently huddled together on the sideline watching the spectacle unfold; they were not about to question this high-expectation mom.

As my wife, Anne, came to be friends with this particular mom over the years, she learned that this family had a very strong We. They were clear about their values and strong cohesion as a family. The parents maintained a steely conviction that they would do everything possible to help their two sons become successful adults. They placed their family and its cohesion above all else. Their strong spiritual faith eliminated certain friends if they felt their influence might compromise the safety and well-being of their sons in any way. The son who was dragged off the field now commands a huge warship in the U.S. Navy.

Parents regularly face tests of courage over a willingness to be rejected by those whose approval and esteem we think we need. It might be telling a 14-year-old daughter, “No, you're not wearing that dress to the Holiday Dance.” It might be, “I'm sorry my 12-year-old son can't come to the sleepover in your home, because we don't allow him to watch R-rated movies.” We are not lacking for examples of tests, but the question for all parents is whether we can make the hard decisions when the values we hold paramount are tested.

Words of Life—The Fuel to Reach a High Orbit

As we discussed throughout this book, the power of affirmation is extraordinary, but it is especially influential in the lives of children. To raise healthy, accomplished children, we must affirm them. We must affirm them for their growing competence and especially, we must regularly speak Words of Life into our children's core to affirm their character.

One practice that we started in our family when our children were quite young was that on the family member's birthday (including parents, grandparents, etc.), each family member would say something they liked and respected about the birthday celebrant. Our two sons continued this practice with their children. It is truly amazing to watch the recipient hear Words of Life being spoken into their core. As the kids get older the profundity of their affirmation grows!

Important authority figures, teachers, and coaches play a tremendously important role in affirming the competence of students. When the opportunity is there, speaking Words of Life into a student's core can make a profound difference in a child's life. When coaches and teachers do speak Words of Life to their students and players, they can truly bring out the best in them. Speaking Words of Life to a child requires a parent, teacher, or coach to have an intact core themselves. Unfortunately, this is not always the case.

The Tragedy of Words of Death

Also powerful are the withering effects of criticism and shame—Words of Death. Parents, teachers, and coaches have tremendous potential to deliver damaging words to children. Important figures in our lives who are wounded in their own core often use criticism and shame to motivate a child, not because it's ultimately effective, but because it reflects the words spoken to them by a parent or some other influential person.

One man I observed coach for several years was unbelievably toxic and shouldn't have been allowed to be around children. Shame was his primary method of motivation. Even to the untrained eye, most of the players' parents knew something was amiss with his core. Why school administrators are not more discerning in vetting their coaching talent always surprises me and makes me question the administrator's competence.

As in my story about Anne's first grade teacher, we know how impressionable young children are. I can still see some of my coaches' degrading looks firmly lodged in some neuron in my own brain.

College Football: An Amazing Laboratory Experiment

Abusive coaching is certainly not new to college sports. In fact, allegations of abuse are appearing with increasing frequency, even in the sports with fewer followers. For coaches, a transition from abuse to affirmation may be difficult when the stress is high, and many coaches know that too many losses may cost them their job. An important article in Sports Illustrated suggests that even college football coaches may now be seeing the world differently when it comes to harsh criticism.¹

Dr. Barbara Fredrickson, the author of Positivity and a social psychologist who runs the Positive Emotions and Psychophysiology (PEP) Lab at the University of North Carolina, says, “Negative emotions grab people's attention more … there's a perception that the best way to get what you want out of employees or players is by negativity or threats, or being stressful or intense. But in terms of bonding, loyalty, commitment to a team or a group and personal development over time, negativity doesn't work as well as positivity.”²

Dr. Ben Tepper of Ohio State's Fisher College of Business says, “The studies all say there's no incremental benefit to being hostile.” Abusive coaching does not lead to increased strength and cohesion of the team. It's draining and divisive. Over time, research will discredit abusive coaching strategies. Tepper further notes, “Even when you control for a leader's experience and expertise, hostility always produces diminishing returns.”³

I sometimes ask parents why we yell at our kids, and I usually get a blank stare. Why do managers, coaches, and parents still employ harsh criticism and yelling as a preferred way to motivate? The short answer—it works. As Fredrickson's words suggest, if nothing else, harsh words get our attention, but there is a big problem with using negativity as a motivational tactic.

Criticism fails the sustainability test, and it needs escalation to continue to be effective. I've always thought it strange that parents count to three to get young children into compliance. The parent's voice intensity and volume increases over the short cadence, and the kid learns quickly that you do nothing until his or her parent reaches three. The parent becomes the one whose behavior is controlled in this instance! More importantly, yelling does nothing to develop a self-reliant, self-regulated child.

Likewise, being critical of an employee gets short-term results but does little to develop a mature, self-directed worker. We get results from criticism, but it invariably fails to bring about lasting transformation and maturity in those who are the recipients of this approach. Criticism, even when the manager fully believes his or her motives for the feedback are fully positive, fails to produce the results he or she seeks over a long period of time.

By the way, I don't claim to be a paragon of virtue here. When my sons were younger, I gave my share of high intensity speeches in an attempt to get them in line. The only lasting value of my speeches is the boys' parody of what I said way back then. Of course, I'm always the goat in the embellished retelling of my most famous speeches. Parent alert—when we're under stress, what we say to our children may hurt them, but it may also become their best comedy material when they are older!

Parent alert—when we're under stress, what we say to our children may hurt them, but it also may become their best comedy material when they are older!

Alliance Feedback for Children

Because brain science has settled that criticism does not bring out the best in another person, especially a child, how do we correct errant behavior? The concept of Alliance Feedback, introduced in Chapter 6, provides a powerful way to redirect a child's behavior.

Alliance Feedback is the connecting of behaviors needing improvement to the hopes, dreams, and aspirations of the recipient.

In Chapter 2, I mentioned my outstanding math teacher in high school, Mrs. Chapman. I remember reviewing a math test with her on which I earned a terrible grade. I'll never forget when she looked up and said with the utmost respect and concern, “You are so much better than this.” In that short, pithy phrase, I heard, “You have the potential to go somewhere with your life. With more focused effort on this subject, you can prepare yourself for a much bigger impact. Don't squander your talent through this kind of mediocrity.” In the months that followed, I made the effort and went to before-school help sessions many days a week. Mrs. Chapman set in motion certain attitudes that guide me still, many decades later.

Parents, teachers, and coaches should be primary sources of Alliance Feedback versus criticism. If a child dreams of being an astronaut, doctor, engineer, teacher, minister, or entrepreneur, connect that aspiration with any errant behavior, such as not doing their homework. Connect anything a child does that needs to be corrected to a relevant hope or dream. This is a scientifically grounded phenomenon!

Alliance Feedback avoids criticism, and instead, points out the incongruity between something a child wants and the way they are acting. For a high school student, it may be as simple as saying, “You said you want to attend college at (name of school). We support you in that goal but question whether making a C in physics (your current grade) will hurt your chances for admission.”

Anne and I were called into a parent conference with the principal one morning just before Christmas break during Jim's senior year in high school (fortunately, our first conference of this nature). Jim chose to apply early decision to his first choice for college and learned in early December he'd been accepted for admission, assuming he finished high school.

The principal didn't beat around the bush. He looked at Jim and said, “Congratulations on getting into college early decision. Unfortunately, your grades have fallen into precipitous decline since receiving that good news. Football seems to be the only thing that matters to you right now. I want you to know that if your grades do not return to the level that your college used to evaluate you for admission, I am obligated to inform the admissions officer that you no longer meet their academic standards. He has the right to rescind your acceptance.” Jim's eyes were now big as saucers, and he was uncharacteristically speechless. The principal was not critical, but he used Alliance Feedback to profound effect. For the rest of the school year, he was a model student. Sometimes life lessons are better caught that taught.

Sometimes life lessons are better caught that taught.

The boys tease me often and have funny labels for some of my more memorable parenting speeches. Some of the ones I delivered under the duress of them acting badly cannot be mentioned in polite society! My vacuum speech stressed that they needed to learn to discipline themselves and be self-regulating. Otherwise, somebody else would fill the vacuum created by their lack of self-control. It might be a teacher, a coach, the principal, a boss, or even the police, but nature abhors a vacuum! Filling the control vacuum themselves would always be more pleasant than when some grumpy authority figure stepped into the vacuum to fill it for them. Jim's high school principal filled the vacuum when his senior year grades took a plunge, and it was not pleasant. It was effective, though, and it was applied without an ounce of criticism.

The I, We, and It for Families

In Chapter 8, we looked at the “I, We, It” model. In our family, we sought to maintain a balance among the I, the We, and the It. Because I believe this model has such broad applicability in life, it behooves parents, teachers, and coaches to be intentional about keeping these three aspects in balance in the home, at school, and on teams, clubs, and so on.

How does this model apply to a family? Parents first need to encourage the development of the I for each child. Find out something the child is good at doing and help him or her get better. I am a strong believer in lessons—piano, gymnastics, karate, chess, and even individual lessons for team sports like baseball. Finding someone in the community who teaches batting lessons or pitching lessons helps the child have a better chance of excelling.

Academic tutoring can also be helpful. The world is more competitive, and reality dictates that we seek to give our children every opportunity to excel. This includes counseling for a child who might be fearful or generally lacking in confidence. We recognized that our two sons were different and needed different developmental opportunities. We tried to encourage each child to use their strengths and to grow in areas that we believed would become important in the future.

The Conundrum of Hardship and Adversity

Watching a child struggle may be one of life's most painful experiences. Helicopter parenting became infamous in recent years—the overly protective parent who immerses themselves in every aspect of their child's life to ensure good outcomes. One of the consequences of a parent's attempts to shield their child from all adversity is that the child misses an opportunity to grow and become resilient through adversity.

When our sons were elementary school age, a favorite tradition for the weekend following Thanksgiving was to travel from Atlanta south to Callaway Gardens, a beautiful environmental preserve in middle Georgia. The weather was usually still mild, and the bike trails seemed endless. Over the several days, we always biked to the hot spots like Mr. Sibley's garden. By far, our favorite stop was the butterfly atrium, reportedly the largest living butterfly exhibit in North America. On sunny days, a thousand butterflies fluttered around the glass facility that had the temperature and humidity of a rain forest.

One afternoon, we listened to one of the guides explaining the various stages of a butterfly's life. In the hours before a butterfly flaps its wings, it must free itself from the hardened chrysalis the insect spun around itself. As the guide talked, we watched several butterflies struggle to get out of their own chrysalis. One butterfly was almost free, held fast by a small piece of the hardened shell. One of the boys asked the guide to just snip the remaining bond so we could see the butterfly take his first flight. Her response was that prematurely helping the butterfly out of the chrysalis dooms it to a life of crawling around the ground. Pushing against the barrier strengthened its wings so it can fly. If getting out was too easy, the wings would not develop the strength to lift the butterfly into the sky and create the unique beauty that we all enjoy.

Anne and I wrestled with when to step in and when to let our sons learn to push back against the barriers in their lives. We knew that muscles get stronger not by ease, but rather by pushing against resistance. Candidly, I struggle with when to intervene if a child is bullied. When a child has the confidence to confront a bully or to fight back, it's good to allow that child to handle it. When a child is suffering on-going emotional or physical harm from a bully or has no way to fight back, such as in cyber-bullying, a parent must insert adult influence. Wisdom is knowing the difference.

I observed in my older son the tremendous benefits of overcoming adversity in one circumstance. The positive outcome beautifully generalized to other areas of his life. An outdoor expedition group invited Jim (who had just turned eight) and me to a wilderness camping experience for a week with other dads and their sons. The wilderness school taught us about stewardship of the environment along with many other outdoor skills, such as repelling and rock climbing, and cooking. Personal hygiene skills were not taught or utilized—we were mountain men who didn't need to shower. These rocks on which we practiced our rock climbing skills were real, and not the manufactured type in sports equipment stores.

One morning we arose to the crisp mountain air at our 8,000-foot elevation campground. After breakfast, our assignment was to use our newly acquired rock climbing skills on a 100-foot vertical rock wall a mile away from our campground. When Jim's turn to scale the wall came, the instructor tied a safety rope around his waist and assured Jim that no matter what, he would not fall to the ground. I understood the concept intellectually until I later clung to small crevices 70 feet above the ground and felt a wave or two of panic, that my belay rope might not work.

Jim climbed about 30 feet up, couldn't figure out how to go up or down, and then panicked. His panic quickly turned to being immobilized on the wall. He began to cry and begged for someone to take him down from the wall. The instructors tried to calm him and give him some encouragement to keep moving, but he could not compose himself. After about 15 minutes, the lead instructor came over and asked me what they should do. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made, but I finally said, “Leave him up there.” Intuitively, I had a sense that this was a major developmental milestone in his young life that offered great potential for good. Although it may not have given Jim much comfort at the moment, I also knew that the belay rope would prevent any serious injury if he lost his foothold.

Eventually, an instructor climbed within about 10 feet of where Jim clung to the side of the rock wall, still crying. The instructor calmly urged him to study his surroundings. “There's a small ledge about two feet above your head to the left.” Jim stopped crying long enough to look at the ledge. In rock climbing, I learned that a move can be the most gut-wrenching part of climbing. You turn loose of everything that feels safe and comfortable to make it to the next point of stability. The instructor quietly encouraged him to reach for the ledge. After what seemed like an eternity, Jim made his move. All the instructors erupted in, “Way to go, Jim. Keep going!” Jim made another difficult move but this time less tentatively. Another and another, always with a chorus of affirmation. Twenty minutes later, he stood atop the wall beaming. Jim repelled down the wall, ran to the instructor, and asked to climb the wall again!

The benefits and power of affirmation may be at a lifetime high when children are in their teens.

Of course, we cannot know what happens inside another person, but by all appearances, Jim turned a major corner in his life that morning. He seemed more confident and more independent and more resilient. Over time, other changes followed—maturity, success in sports, and completion of his Eagle Scout Award.

Adversity is a primary means to develop resilience, so to insulate a child from age-appropriate adversity denies him or her the opportunity to develop this critical quality. My view on the benefits of a child's successfully overcoming adversity is that when paired with affirmation, it can be wonderfully life changing for a growing child. A first-century writer detailed the following four-part sequence that can result from well-handled adversity:

1. Problems and trials
2. Develop endurance
3. Strength of character
4. Confident hope⁴

Wise parents, teachers, and coaches measure the potential benefits of letting a child struggle within a supportive environment to encourage the child to stay the course. Great teachers have a gift of staying just ahead of their students' developmental needs.

Final Counsel to Parents, Teachers, and Coaches

The benefits and power of affirmation may be at a lifetime high when children are in their teens. Words of Life are critical to us no matter what our age, but there is a unique window in a child's life to make their trajectory sound and to bring out the best in them as they make major life decisions about the kind of person he or she will become. To speak Words of Life into a child's core, we must have a sound core ourselves. May all of us who have children or work with children resolve to speak Words of Life into the core of these dear ones!