The Eight Essentials: What Every High School Parent Needs Now

I may have mentioned before that I rely heavily on random Google searches to produce the kind of carefully researched, evidence-based content you come here for. Yesterday, I googled What do parents of high school students need and because AI-generated responses now appear at the top of every search result, I got this gem:

Parents of high school students need to stay actively involved in their child's education, provide emotional support, guide them through academic and college planning, foster open communication, set clear expectations, and encourage healthy decision-making while allowing for increasing independence as they navigate the complexities of high school life.

I’m sorry, but that sounds exhausting. No wonder the Surgeon General issued an advisory last year calling attention to the need to support parents who feel pushed to the brink. (Um, so all of us, then?) I’m about to offer a hot take, so brace yourselves: could it be that the feeling of total overwhelm is the result of needing to do some or all of the above: sleep, eat, work, raise other children, care for elderly parents, wash the dishes, agonize over organic vs. pesticide-covered romaine lettuce at the supermarket, drive carpool, AND, if you are lucky enough to have a high schooler, provide emotional support, offer academic and college guidance, foster open communication, set clear expectations, and encourage healthy decision-making while allowing for increasing independence?

Unrelated, but I have it on good authority from the inimitable jen parker that if you add “fucking” to your search terms (ie, “what do parents of high school students fucking need?”) you will filter out the AI search results. You’re welcome.

Photo by Denny Ryanto on Unsplash

My point is that our young people are staggering under the weight of expectations, and their parents are also staggering under the weight of expectations, and if AI speaks with the voice of the collective wisdom of the internet, sort of like the Borg in Star Trek: The Next Generation, we are all in big trouble.

But fear not! Remember that scene in Toy Story 2 when Mrs. Potato Head helps Mr. Potato Head pack before he goes off to rescue Woody? Consider me your own personal Mrs. Potato Head, except instead of extra shoes and angry eyes and a plastic steak and a bouncy, bouncy ball, I bring you a curated, non-AI-generated list of what parents of high schoolers actually need.

1. A hobby. No, your child cannot be your hobby, and neither can exhaustively researching college acceptance rates or monitoring your child’s academic progress through an online portal. I’m talking an actual hobby, like making a cozy finger-knit blanket (no knitting needles or skills required! I made one last year and it is soooo soft and doesn’t even look like a kindergarten art project!). Or, to borrow from Mrs. Potato Head’s playbook, a crayon (for an adult coloring book!) or a yo-yo (just in case!), or a rubber ducky (for the bubble baths that will surely do wonders for your mental health). Or a TV show. I’m late to the party, but I’m currently in the middle of season 3 of Succession, and I have never felt better about myself as a parent.

2. At least one friend who gets it, by which I mean someone who knows you as you—a person in your own right and not solely as someone’s mom or dad, which means you’re probably going to talk about how it’s not a good idea to cut your own bangs or how annoying it is that your partner can’t scan 10 degrees to the left or right when they’re looking for something in the fridge or how brilliant Fleabag was or the perfect pair of overalls you stupidly gave away in the late ‘90s. Don’t get me wrong—you’ll still talk about your kids, a LOT, but you won’t joust over who has the better summer activities lined up. Bonus: if you have more than one such friend, you can call yourselves a coven!

3. A willingness to remember—really remember—who you were when you were your child’s age. Go through your old yearbooks if you still have them. Look at what people wrote to you when you were 15 and 16 and 17. Ask your parents what they remember about your teen years. Or, if you want to be low-key mortified at your lack of good judgement and fashion sense, spend some time reminiscing with friends from high school.

4. Perspective. Remind yourself that if you have a roof over your head, a reliable source of food, and an internet connection, your child is going to be fine even if they don’t get into their dream school (I will have this engraved on my tombstone: there’s no such thing as a dream school). They may be disappointed, but nothing terrible will happen to them. Or to you. Getting into a dream school is a want, not a need (see: Maslow’s hierarchy of needs). For additional perspective, here’s a reading list for ambitious parents of high school students.

5. Snacks. Your child is likely to wander into the kitchen (maybe at 11 pm, but better than sitting in their room with the door closed!) and engage in conversation if your snack game is strong. I’m not advocating for stocking up on dark chocolate-coated peppermint Joe-Joes which I may or may not have bought in bulk back in December, but as my cousin Becky wisely said when she was five, “Life isn’t as good without cookies.”

6. A regular yoga practice. I’m kidding, but only a little bit. Hear me out: deep breathing! Flexibility! Learning to stand on your head and see the world in an entirely different way! If you’re still with me, Adriene Mishler from Yoga with Adriene is a national treasure—funny, unassuming, kind, and happy to meet you where you are. (There’s a reason she has 13 million followers on YouTube.) Also, some of the videos are 10 minutes long, so there’s really no reason not to do it.

7. A cat. Or a dog. Or a bird. Or a guinea pig. Or another animal who brings you joy and loves you unconditionally. If you’re allergic or no animal exists that brings you joy, watch a Richard Attenborough nature documentary, which will remind you that there is more to the world than that chemistry teacher who wouldn’t round up your son’s B+ to an A- even though he scored 88.7 percent on the final.

8. A sense of optimism (possibly misplaced, but you need it) that everything will turn out the way it’s meant to turn out, even if it doesn’t happen in a way and at a timeline of your choosing.

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