Finding Their Secret Sauce: It Takes a Community to Raise a Kid

My first child is pretty easy to motivate.

Give him a few bucks. Promise a prize at the end. Set the goal, and he’ll figure out the rest.

My younger one? Not so much.

External rewards don’t do much for him. His motivation comes from somewhere deeper—somewhere entirely his own. And I’ve come to realize that this quality could become his greatest strength…or, if we don’t help him learn how to harness it, it could become his greatest obstacle.

So how do I help him turn this “secret talent” into his own “secret sauce”?

The obvious answer, of course, is for me to tell him.

Except he’s not particularly interested in what I have to say.

“Mom, what do you know about Ninja?”

“Dad has never even competed in American Ninja Warrior. What does he know? Besides, I’ve got it.”

Meanwhile, I’m standing on the sidelines thinking, Your next hold is completely obvious if you would just listen to me.

I may not know everything about Ninja specifically, but I do know a thing or two about working toward a goal, overcoming obstacles, and figuring out how to succeed.

Unfortunately, being a parent means learning that knowing what your child needs and getting your child to hear it are two very different things.

And sometimes, the person who can reach your child simply isn’t you.

Sometimes, They Need a Hero

I think I’m finally making some inroads.

My son doesn’t need another lecture from Mom. He needs a hero.

He needs a role model whose words carry a little more weight than mine.

He needs someone who has already walked the path he is trying to navigate—and, perhaps most importantly, someone he can discover on his own.

So we started reading.

Actually, we started listening together on Audible, which has become its own little parenting strategy. Instead of telling him what I think he needs to know, I put a book in the car and let someone else do the talking.

One of the heroes who really resonates with him is Abby Wambach, former captain of the U.S. women’s national soccer team and a two-time Olympic and World Cup champion.

Her book, Wolfpack, has a junior version that is especially powerful for kids. She talks about what it takes to succeed—not just talent, but persistence, confidence, courage, teamwork, and the willingness to keep moving forward.

I love the book so much that I actually give it to my patients at doctor’s visits.

The second hero resonates with my son even more.

Jocko Willink, a former Navy SEAL, wrote The Way of the Warrior Kid, a series of books for kids around 9–13. The story follows a fifth grader who is struggling with school, sports, and bullying. After spending the summer with his Uncle Jake, he begins to understand the power of hard work, discipline, persistence, attitude, and grit.

In other words, all the things I have probably tried to teach my child approximately a thousand different ways.

But when Mom says it?

Eye roll.

When Jocko says it?

Apparently, it is gospel.

And you know what?

I’m okay with that.

Parenting Isn’t About Making Every Kid the Same

Maybe one of the most important things we learn as parents is that the strategy that works for one child may completely miss the mark with another.

My first child responds to external rewards.

My second needs an internal spark.

Neither is wrong.

They are simply different.

And perhaps our job isn’t to make every child respond to the same incentives, follow the same path, or become motivated in the same way.

Maybe our job is to pay close enough attention to figure out what makes each individual child come alive.

For my son, I am beginning to see that his stubborn independence—the same trait that can make him ignore advice, reject conventional motivation, and insist that he has it all figured out—may also be the thing that makes him extraordinarily driven.

That fire could take him somewhere amazing.

But first, he has to learn how to control it.

Finding the People Who Can Reach Them

That is where community comes in.

It really does take a village to raise a child.

Sometimes the village is a teacher. Sometimes it’s a coach. Sometimes it’s a friend, grandparent, mentor, or teammate.

And sometimes, remarkably, it’s an author whose words travel through a pair of headphones while you’re driving to practice.

Abby Wambach and Jocko Willink have become part of our village.

They are giving my son something I couldn’t give him by myself: a vision of who he might become.

And lately, I can see the difference.

There is a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

He’s looking forward instead of behind.

He’s thinking about what he wants to accomplish—and, more importantly, he’s making a plan to get there.

He has been working on pull-ups and is now doing more than 15 in a row. His current goal is 100 in a day.

Of course, he waited until after American Ninja Worlds to attempt that particular goal, lest he tire out his “guns” prematurely.

Because apparently, even motivation has to fit the kid.

And maybe that’s the lesson.

Our kids don’t come with instruction manuals. They come with strengths, quirks, fears, passions, stubbornness, curiosity, and an enormous amount of potential.

Our job isn’t to give them our motivation.

It’s to help them discover theirs.

Sometimes that means stepping in.

Sometimes it means stepping back.

And sometimes it means finding someone else to say the thing we’ve been saying all along.

Because the goal isn’t to make our children successful our way.

It is to help them discover what makes them uniquely capable of becoming successful their way.

I know my son can do it.

I can see the fire.

And now, thankfully, he can see it too.

It takes a community to raise our kids.

My deepest thanks to Abby Wambach and Jocko Willink for being part of ours.