As a newly minted parent in the world of “big kid” school (a.ka. elementary school), I’ve quickly learned that school projects are a whole different ballgame than they were back in my day. I can still picture the joy of working with styrofoam balls, trifold boards, and a generous amount of rubber glue during project time. Simple materials, simple times.
Fast-forward to today, and those styrofoam balls are now levitating midair, illuminated with LED lights, and sometimes even playing music. It’s truly a sight to behold, until I remind myself of the unspoken (or sometimes spoken) rule: parents are only supposed to help, not take over.
That’s where my inner conflict begins.
As a Type A personality and a rule follower to my core, I feel strongly about sticking to the guidelines. The project is supposed to reflect the student’s effort, creativity, and learning. But when I see the elaborate, Pinterest-worthy creations that some kids bring to school, it’s glaringly obvious that these weren’t crafted solely by tiny six- or seven-year-old hands.
And then, the doubts creep in. Should I step in and “help” more to ensure my child’s project stands out? After all, it’s clear that other parents are picking up the slack, even if it’s not officially acknowledged. Yet, at the same time, I wrestle with the idea that doing so sends the wrong message.
Where do we draw the line? At what point do we let kids be kids, imperfections and all, instead of stepping in to make their work “perfect”?
Sure, no one wants their child to feel left out when projects are displayed. But isn’t the whole point of these assignments to teach responsibility, creativity, and problem-solving? When parents take over, we risk sending the message that their best effort isn’t good enough. It also perpetuates the unnecessary pressure on kids (and honestly, parents) to constantly compete and overachieve.
This isn’t just a theoretical issue. Any parent with a child in school today knows that project time can feel like a competition for who can create the most social media-worthy display. And it begs the question: At what point does society step back and say, “Enough is enough”? I don’t have all the answers, but I know I’m not alone in this struggle. My approach is to offer guidance, lend supplies, and cheer my child, but ultimately, let the work reflect their abilities and effort. Sure, it might not have a glowing, musical, gravity-defying element, but it’s theirs, and that’s what matters most.
So, to my fellow parents in the trenches: how do you handle this? Do you stick to the rules, or do you find yourself tempted to go above and beyond for the sake of keeping up? Let’s start a conversation because this “not real thing” is very much a real thing in today’s school culture, and I want to know how to navigate this space as my kid returns to school.
