As I settle onto the couch beside our Goldendoodle, my daughter, Lucy, eagerly taps the microphone. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“I’m ready,” I respond, preparing for the third rendition of Idina Menzel’s “Let It Go” as it loads in the karaoke app.
Lucy’s anticipation fills the room. For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to share in her enthusiasm—perhaps this time she’ll sing it beautifully, and someday, with dedication and effort, she might just fulfill her dream of becoming a star.
She begins with the first line, and I feel a tightening in my ears. The dog shifts position, clearly unimpressed. By the time the chorus swells, the dog makes a hasty exit from the room. Meanwhile, my daughter, the bright, kind, and determined person I cherish, puts her heart into it, hitting some notes—if I’m being honest—quite flat.
“Did I do well?” she asks, breathless and flushed.
It would be easy to offer false praise. I’ve done it before.
“Do you like this drawing?” she might ask.
“Like it? I absolutely love it,” I would reply.
While lying can boost a child’s confidence and sometimes feels like an essential part of parenting, it can also lead to disillusionment. Just a glance at any past season of American Idol reveals countless contestants who are oblivious to their lack of talent. It’s crucial to provide children with honest feedback when it matters most, and this is one such moment.
Lucy is earnestly singing, not just for fun but as part of her preparation for a Broadway audition. Recognizing that she looks to me for validation, I choose my words with care: “It was pretty good.”
She narrows her eyes. “Good enough to audition for The Voice?”
“I think you have to be at least 13 for that,” I deflect, even if that detail is inaccurate.
“You know what I mean. Do you think I could be a celebrity?”
And there it is.
“Well,” I reply, attempting a casual tone, “everyone has their unique talents. While your singing is decent, it may not be your standout skill. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it though.”
“So you’re saying it was terrible.”
Her intelligence might one day be her defining talent.
“No, I’m saying that everyone excels in different areas. To succeed as a singer, you really need to be exceptional.”
“Do you think I could be exceptional if I took lessons?”
“Maybe,” I say, hoping to share in her dream once more. I remember reading about Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers and the concept of dedicating 10,000 hours to master a skill.
Years ago, during our Mommy and Me music classes, a free-spirited teacher shared her belief that no child is inherently a good or bad singer; it all comes down to exposure and practice. She likely agreed with Gladwell that what we often label as talent is simply the result of hard work.
Yet, even with this understanding—that we can become whatever we desire with enough dedication—do we not need some baseline talent to guide us? Furthermore, if I encourage mediocrity in hopes of it transforming into greatness, am I not steering my child away from discovering her natural strengths?
In my youth, I loved writing, yet I was far from good at it. The journey was often grueling, yet I persisted, logging my own 10,000 hours without external encouragement. Now, I write decently, but I also appreciate the diverse creative pursuits I explored that supported my writing career.
This karaoke session has led me to a conclusion: nurture her singing as a hobby, allowing it to develop organically. If she is genuinely committed, she will continue to sing along to the radio and perform in our living room, while I provide fair and constructive feedback. However, pushing her to prioritize singing at the expense of her other talents feels misguided.
Then I ponder the underlying reason behind her desire. “Lucy, why do you want to be a celebrity?”
She shrugs. “Because everyone knows you.”
“And for what reason? Singing? Wouldn’t it be more meaningful if you were recognized for making a real difference, like curing diseases or helping others?”
“I can do all that once I’m a celebrity.”
Touché.
“Okay, let’s hear it one more time, and I’ll give you my honest feedback…” I lean back and listen, pleasantly surprised to find she sounds much better this time around.
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In summary, while it’s tempting to tell our children they can achieve anything, it’s crucial to provide them with honest, constructive feedback and help them explore their unique talents, guiding them towards what they truly excel at.
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