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Let Your Kids Fail -

  • Writer: Kevin Primerano
    Kevin Primerano
  • Apr 28
  • 3 min read

Their stumbles now are what help them build the resilience they’ll need to thrive later.


When Sarah was pregnant with Rocco, I came home one afternoon to find a "must-have" baby catalog on the kitchen table. We'd already ticked off the essentials: Diaper Genie, crib, fancy stroller, plus a half-dozen gadgets I'd never heard of, check, check, check. Then Sarah pointed out the one we'd missed: baby knee pads.


"Why on earth do we need those?" I asked, trying to stay polite.


Sarah smiled. "They'll keep him from skinned knees while he learns to crawl."


I stared. "Are you kidding me?" I blurted. Until then, I had no idea how far she would go to keep our firstborn completely unscathed.

Each chapter brings different challenges. We must allow our children the opportunity to fail.
Each chapter brings different challenges. We must allow our children the opportunity to fail.

I think about that knee-pad conversation whenever I discuss the importance of letting kids fail. In that instant, I realized that we've been conditioned to want to protect our children and do what we can to prevent them from getting scraped or bruised. However, as I've learned since, those scrapes are essential for building balance, confidence, and resilience.


While growing up, my father didn't tolerate failure, even though


it was what I excelled at most. 


I was an average athlete (confidence wasn't my strong suit); I never reached my full academic potential. Every misstep earned me a lecture on toughness and a label of laziness. Lose a game? Cue the grit sermon. Get a poor grade? I'd be benched from whatever I loved until I "got it together" or showed "I cared."


Here's what coaching taught me about failure: kids don't show up wishing to fail. In all my years on the sidelines, I've never met a young athlete who said, "I want to mess up." They want to win, learn, improve, connect, compete, and have fun. So, instead of breeding anxiety and fear around mistakes, I've worked to help players and my sons see setbacks as essential steps on the path to growth and place pressure in their proper context.


Rocco celebrates a milestone by riding his bike without training wheels for the first time. He didn't know it at the time, but this success came only through his willingness to fail (a lot).
Rocco celebrates a milestone by riding his bike without training wheels for the first time. He didn't know it at the time, but this success came only through his willingness to fail (a lot).

Nothing pains me more than watching a coach rip into a team after a tough loss. I've been that coach more times than I care to admit, and it never felt right. All we communicate at that moment is, "Don't mess up, or I’ll be angry." We teach kids that their value hinges on performance. If we truly want our children to blossom, on the field, in the classroom, and life, we must resist the temptation to be there to break every fall, catch them every time they trip, or shield them from all risk.


The knee pads were just the beginning. As our kids grow, the stakes only get higher. Think back to teaching your child to ride a bike: how many times did you run alongside them, gripping the seat or handlebars, terrified of letting go? And then, when you finally did, they'd make it ten feet, only to crash spectacularly. I lost count of how many times I let go, watched them topple, picked them up, and tried again. But one day, without even realizing it, I let go, and they rode away on their own. That moment didn't just teach them balance; it taught both of us that falling is often the first step toward success.

Despite an uncountable number of false starts and failures, once Giovanni mastered it, he never looked back.
Despite an uncountable number of false starts and failures, once Giovanni mastered it, he never looked back.

It doesn't stop with the fear of letting go of the bike. New challenges and fears emerge at every stage of our children's growth. If you think teaching them to balance on their own is scary and difficult, wait until they insist on pedaling beyond the neighborhood or, one day, pull out of the garage in a car and drive away without you for the first time.


Our lives are filled with these moments, opportunities to learn, stumble, and rise again. When we finally release our children to grow and experiment, whether on bikes, in sports, in schoolwork, or life in general, we give them the space and security they need to stumble, to fall, and ultimately to blossom. That's the true gift of letting them fail. And the best part? It teaches them and reminds us that resilience is the real milestone.



Question for you: What's one moment this week where you can loosen your grip and let a child you care about discover their own strength? Feel free to share below.



 
 
 

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