You know how, as parents, we spend so much mental effort trying to break the old patterns, choosing carefully what we want to keep and what we’re ditching for good? Only for our kids to turn around and say, “Nah, I’ll go back to the old way”? That’s parenting. We rewrite the rulebook, thinking we’re giving them a whole new world—and then they go and hit rewind!
Case in point: My mom—a third-grade teacher and the queen of “good job.” She’d hand out praise in her classroom with candy and “Happy Dance” – sometimes even at home. Eventually, after some Alfie Kohn reading and my own teacher training, I threw “good job” out the window, along with its unintended side effects—manipulation, approval-seeking, and judgment. I wanted my kids to be intrinsically motivated, finding pride within themselves.
But now, my teenage daughter—who’s grown up without hearing “good job” for every finger painting and big-girl sip—has declared she is going to be a “good job” parent. Yes, you heard that right. She’s going to flood her future kids with praise, applause, confetti, and (I imagine) a soundtrack of “Eye of the Tiger.”
The other day, while we were getting coffee, she started telling me how the younger kids at her Sudbury school love showing her their latest drawings, tricks, and whatever else they come up with. She dishes out over-the-top reactions and ultimate praise, and they love it—and so does she.
“Mom, you know, you didn’t do that for me,” my daughter teased. “I remember calling for you at the playground, and all you’d say was, ‘I see.’ Well, I’m over that—I’m all in on the ‘good jobs.’” We laughed, and ever since, I’ve been tossing her a few “good jobs” just for fun.
It’s ironic, isn’t it? All those years I spent trying to thoughtfully engage her without “hollow” praise, and she’s determined to do the opposite. Parenting karma, I guess. Who knows? One day, she might even be doing the full “Happy Dance” shtick, passed down from her grandmother.
Maybe it’s the grand cycle of parenting: we each raise our kids in the best way we know, and then they decide they’ll do things differently. And maybe, in the end, that’s how it should be. So, for all the “good jobs” she’s going to be giving out one day, I have to admit—good job, kiddo.
