“The passion for stretching yourself and sticking to it, even (or especially) when it’s not going well, is the hallmark of the growth mindset.”
– Carol Dweck, Mindset 

This week, I share a byline with Mallory Matthews, our Head of Lower & Middle School.

We recently spent Lower School Back to School Night talking with families about something that can feel counterintuitive: we want your children to struggle. Struggle isn’t the opposite of learning. It’s how we learn, and that idea felt worth passing along to our whole Keystone community.

Just as muscles grow from effort, a child’s thinking, patience, and problem-solving grow when a task genuinely stretches them. Children don’t learn anything by repeating something they already know. Real learning lives at the edge of “not yet.”

Confidence that lasts doesn’t come from being told “you’re smart.” It comes from a child remembering, “I got through that.” Comfort alone doesn’t teach; recovering from a setback does. So when we, as parents and educators, support children as they struggle instead of rushing to smooth the struggle away, we aren’t being harsh. We’re doing exactly what the moment calls for.

Three Outcomes We’re Building Toward

Every productive challenge, at any grade level, is really building one of three things:

• Resilience – the ability to face a setback, feel the frustration, and keep going anyway.
• Independence – the confidence to try a next step alone before asking an adult to solve it.
• Self-advocacy – the skill of naming what you need and asking for it clearly and respectfully.

What challenge looks like over the years

In kindergarten and first grade, a challenge can show up in ways such as sharing a toy, waiting for a turn, or missing a parent at drop-off. In second and third grade, it looks more like a friendship disagreement or a math problem with no obvious first step. By fourth grade, it’s group project disagreements, a grade that stings, and managing multiple due dates. You might expect a disagreement with a friend, a problem with no easy answer, or being told “not yet.” Each is a chance to practice a skill your child will need for life, and childhood is the safest place to practice it.

If adults consistently remove the obstacle, kids can unintentionally learn that discomfort is a signal to stop, or that someone else will always step in. Of course children need help – the real question isn’t whether, but how much. Before stepping in, it’s worth asking: What’s the least amount of help I can give right now that will allow this child to keep moving forward?

A few responses go a long way: “That sounds hard, tell me what happened,” or “What do you think you could try?” It’s tempting to solve it before they’ve tried, say “don’t worry about it,” or email the teacher before your child has spoken up for themselves. Each is well-intentioned, but quietly takes the moment away from your child.

Coach, don’t rescue

We think about most everyday struggles as following a simple arc: a challenge appears, discomfort shows up (and that’s normal), a teacher or parent offers support, but not a rescue, and the child carries the skill forward. This describes productive struggle; when a situation involves bullying or a child’s safety, we move in immediately. But most of what students face day to day fits the ordinary category, and that’s where coaching instead of rescuing makes the biggest difference.

Here’s what that looks like on an average Tuesday. A student hits a hard math problem and says, “I don’t get it. This is too hard.” The instinct is to say, “Here, let me show you.” Instead, we try: “What’s one thing you already know about this problem?” The student gets partway, then gets one targeted hint, and finishes it themselves. We can say, “I can see that you’re frustrated. This is really hard right now,” and “I still believe you can keep going.” Both can be true at once.

Curiosity and Connection Make the Challenge Safe

None of this works without two other ingredients: curiosity and connection. We protect curiosity by praising the strategy a child tried, not just the right answer, and by treating mistakes as information rather than failure. As author Angus Fletcher writes in Wonderworks, curiosity “boosts what psychologists term our positive affect, making us more cheerful, enthusiastic, energetic, and generally glad to be alive.” It’s what turns a hard problem into something interesting instead of just hard.

Connection matters just as much. Children take real risks when they trust the adults around them. They raise a hand, try again after failing, or name a hard feeling. That trust comes from teachers who know each child well enough to know their next stretch, who stay calm when a child is dysregulated, and from open communication between school and home. We build that partnership every day, and we’re grateful for the families who build it alongside us.

When a child feels curious about the world and connected to the people in it, the challenges they meet become the moments they grow the most from. That’s the growth mindset Dweck describes. It’s also just good parenting and good teaching, practiced together. Not a childhood without struggle, but one where struggle is met with the right support, at the right time, by adults who believe the child can do hard things.

Stay curious. Stay connected. For our students, and for all of us alongside them, that’s how growth happens.