Colman Noctor: The test for parents is to value children regardless of results

For some children, school is a good fit. But another parent’s child may have to work considerably harder

Hard to comprehend: We tell children that effort equals reward, but it’s not a given. Picture: iStock

Parents’ views of education are often strongly shaped by their own child’s experience.

Some advocate for homework in primary school to build habit, reinforce learning, and monitor progress. Their child might sit down, complete a worksheet, and put it back in their schoolbag 20 minutes later. But in another house, completing the same worksheet might take two hours, with a tired child crying at the kitchen table after a day of intense concentration. The parent is juggling cooking and caring for other children, and, by 7pm, everyone is exhausted.

So while one parent might say, ‘Children need homework; it never did us any harm’, another might think the opposite. Neither is right or wrong. They are simply parenting very different children.

Our children may attend the same school, sit in the same classroom, and be taught by the same teacher, but experience education radically differently.

For some children, school is a good fit. They learn quickly, read naturally, and retain information. They can organise their thoughts on paper, and exams suit them. Their parents attend parent-teacher meetings and hear reassuring comments, such as, ‘She is flying,’ or ‘He’s very capable,’ and leave reassured that their child can succeed in school.

But another parent’s child may have to work considerably harder. Homework takes longer, tests are stressful, and school life involves learning support, assessments, and accommodations. Despite all that effort, the results at the end can be disappointing.

Effort without reward

A child can study hard but not receive the reward their efforts deserve. We tell young people that effort leads to results, and often it does. But parents of struggling children know that effort and outcome don’t always align. For example, two siblings might study differently: One for half an hour to score 85%, the other for two hours to score 55%.

Academic success occupies an unusual place in Irish culture. We understandably celebrate it, but too many parents of teenagers focus on academic performance, subject levels, Leaving Cert points, and college courses.

They ask: ‘How many points is she aiming for?; ‘Which course does he want?’; ‘Is she taking higher-level maths?’; ‘How did he do in the mocks?’ While these are well-meaning questions, they aren’t necessarily neutral.

If your child is aiming for 500 or 600 points, discussing it can feel exciting. You are looking at courses, comparing entry requirements, and thinking about possibilities. For the parent beside you, whose teenager is struggling to pass several subjects, the conversation can feel very different.

That parent may smile and be genuinely pleased for your child, but that doesn’t make the conversation comfortable.

The same applies when parents of younger children discuss STEM scores, spelling tests, and entrance exams.

I’m not suggesting that we should stop celebrating children’s achievements, but before enthusiastically discussing your own child’s progress, remember the parent who spent the night reassuring a nine-year-old that they’re ‘not stupid’.

Different abilities

One of the easiest parenting mistakes is to assume your experience is typical. If your teenager is academically motivated, you may wonder why other parents don’t simply ‘take the phone away and make them study’. If your child achieves excellent results, it can be tempting to attribute that success primarily to work ethic, discipline, or your exemplary parenting. While those attributes can contribute enormously, ability plays a role, too. Children are innately different; just ask parents who have more than one child. The parents provide similar opportunities, values, and expectations, yet their children have completely different experiences of school.

One absorbs information almost effortlessly, while another needs repetition. One loves reading, while the other finds every page laborious. One is highly organised, while the other struggles to remember which books they need to bring to school the next day.

This difference is not necessarily evidence that one child cares more or that one was parented better.

Because children present so differently, apparently sensible parenting advice can be confusing. ‘Just let them take responsibility’ sounds reasonable, but what if the child doesn’t yet have the organisational capacity to manage that responsibility independently?

‘Don’t put pressure on them’ is typically good advice, but what if, without considerable prompting, the child disengages? And ‘results aren’t everything’ is certainly true, but it is much easier to say when your child’s results are good.

If we believe academic results do not define children, perhaps the real test of that belief is how we view children whose results aren’t impressive. Do we admire the teenager who worked extraordinarily hard to achieve 300 points in the Leaving Cert as much as the teenager who achieved 600? Do we recognise the effort required to move from a fail to a pass? Do we recognise that success at school is one form of competence rather than the definition of competence itself? I am not sure we do.

Children listen to adult conversations about education and quickly work out what they value. Parents of children who struggle academically are often engaged in a subtle battle to prevent their children from interpreting academic difficulty as a personal failing.

Repeated struggle can change how a child sees themselves. ‘I can’t do maths’ can gradually become, ‘I’m useless, so there’s no point trying’.

Parents might spend years attempting to halt that escalation. A parent celebrating a 55% result may not have the same expectations as one disappointed by 85%. They may simply understand the journey behind the number; 55% can signify great effort, persistence, and progress.

Parents of gifted children also face challenges. A child praised for being ‘clever’ may develop an achievement-based identity. While being the clever one feels great and success comes easily, it becomes harder when it doesn’t.

The child who gets 95% needs to know they are more than their result, and the child who gets 45% needs to know the same thing.

People first, results second

Perhaps parents can help one another by prioritising effort over outcome. They can do this not through false modesty or by avoiding conversations about their children’s achievements, but by recognising that the person beside us may be having a very different parenting experience.

If your teenager got 600 points, celebrate them, but be mindful of repeatedly bringing Leaving Cert points into the conversation at the side of a pitch, at a family gathering, or over coffee. Be proud of them, but resist assuming that their achievement proves anything about your parenting or that another child’s difficulties prove anything about theirs.

The education system does not suit every child equally. But school eventually ends, and qualities that are difficult to measure in a classroom become immensely valuable in adulthood. Creativity, reliability, humour, empathy, practical ability, persistence, emotional intelligence, and the capacity to build relationships are valuable life skills. I have met so many children who struggled throughout school only to thrive later in the right work environment.

We can celebrate the child who gets 600 points without making the parent of the child who gets 250 feel they have to explain themselves. We can value education without assuming every family experiences it the same way, and we can advocate for what works for our own child while remembering that it may not work for some other child.

We need to resist the urge to see education as a process of accumulating CAO points. We must acknowledge who our child becomes along the way. If that journey leaves them resilient and well-rounded, then, regardless of their points tally, they will be leaving school with enormously valuable attributes. And it would serve us all well to recognise that.

• Dr Colman Noctor is a child psychotherapist