The Reality of Resilience

What does it really take to build resilience in young people?

I recently sat down to catch up with a teacher friend who has just retired. As he reflected on his 39 years of teaching, he said something that stuck with me:

“We need to stop teaching lessons on resilience and start allowing resilience to happen.”

He’s not alone in this sentiment. Leaders, educators, researchers and therapists on the front lines of child development are saying the same thing. The emerging message is clear: resilience isn’t a lesson kids can learn from a whiteboard, a worksheet or a motivational speaker. Resilience is the natural consequence of being allowed and encouraged to tolerate a range of uncomfortable experiences over time.

This sounds simple in concept — how hard can it be to allow kids to be uncomfortable, after all?

Incredibly hard, as it turns out.

In a world obsessed with comfort, where calm containment is the benchmark of wellness, and normal human emotions like anger, sadness and worry have been labelled “bad” or “disordered”, letting kids sit with discomfort of any kind has become quite counter-cultural.

The truth is, building resilience is disruptive. It gets in the way of the comfort and calm we’re taught to want. The reality of building resilience isn’t pretty or quiet, and it’s certainly not composed. The road to resilience is marked by big emotions, unpalatable behaviours and interpersonal turmoil.

Consider the child in the grocery store being told, “No treats today.” The perfect opportunity for resilience-building in a young brain. A golden chance to teach the child that they can tolerate, metabolise and survive the sensations of disappointment by simply allowing them to experience the state of disappointment. Easy.

The catch is, disappointment rarely gets expressed politely (even by adults with fully developed brains). Instead, the deafening noise of disappointment echoes down the aisles, accompanied by tears, fists, insults and/or desperate bargaining. And just like that, resilience-building disrupts an entire grocery store full of people.

The adult brave enough to let resilience happen rarely gets encouraged or praised for their efforts. Instead, they’re rewarded with looks of disdain, pitied sighs and a tangible pressure to please return their child to quiet and calm at any cost.

When quiet and calm are the goal, resilience often pays the price. When comfort is king, we cave to the disruption, hand over the treat, and breathe a collective sigh of relief as things return to the ease of “normal” once more.

This pattern continues beyond the grocery store and into the hallways of high schools, where A grades, perfect friendships and constant happiness become the desired “treats”, and the adult who dares to withhold these comforts becomes an outcast.

And all the while, we stand genuinely perplexed, wondering how on earth kids can’t demonstrate resilience these days.

In all fairness, allowing the discomfort that breeds resilience is even harder when we’re collectively living in a constant state of nervous system arousal and activation, thanks to computers in our pockets, relentless productivity pressure and a saturation of global crises.

Surely there’s a quicker fix for resilient kids?

Except there isn’t.

We can talk about resilience until we’re blue in the face. But until we commit to allowing — and normalising — the disruption of discomfort in everyday life, resilience will continue to disappear.

So next time you see that parent in the grocery store with the screaming child, give them a smile and say, “You’ve got this. We’re in it with you. Disappointment is hard to feel — you’re doing it. You’re building a resilient kid.”

The next time you’re tempted to drop off a forgotten assignment, call the school instead and say, “I need help building resilience today. There are going to be some big emotions when they realise — please don’t leave them to manage alone.”

The next time you notice a sullen head resting on a desk in your classroom, refusing to do anything, write a note: “Just so you know, whatever you’re feeling is welcome in my classroom. Being here and feeling it is enough. You are building resilience, and I’m proud of you.”

Resilience is built, little by little, every time we allow discomfort to disrupt the status quo. The more we do it, the more confident we all become that our kids can, will and do survive uncomfortable things.

If you’d like to know more about building resilience and clearing room for discomfort, please reach out via email at katy@theclearingroom.com or visit www.theclearingroom.com.