Learning to Ask for More

Lately, I have been worried about my children’s academic progress.

I have never been the kind of parent who pushes hard when it comes to school. Part of this comes from raising a son with severe dyslexia.

Learning already requires a great deal of effort from him. I have always been afraid that too much pressure would overwhelm him or make him believe he was incapable.

Over time, I may have extended the same leniency to my other two children.

Neither has been formally diagnosed with a learning or developmental condition, although both have wondered whether there is something they do not yet understand about themselves.

My daughter thinks she may be mildly autistic. My stepson sometimes wonders whether he has ADHD.

I do not feel qualified to confirm or dismiss what they are noticing. I listen to them, although I also believe that these questions need proper assessment before we draw any conclusions.

My daughter has some traits that remind me of her dyslexic brother, though they appear less pronounced. I noticed them, but perhaps I avoided looking more closely.

All of my children are bright, expressive and confident in expressing their views. They understand more than their academic results sometimes suggest.

Still, they have not found their footing at school.

I know they have potential, yet I have rarely pushed beyond asking them to attend school, complete their homework and do what their teachers require.

When I have time to teach them, I am usually drawn to lessons I wish I had learned earlier.

I teach them how to manage their emotions and understand different kinds of people. I teach them how to plan a day out, organise their time, journal, set goals and process difficult feelings.

I encourage them to practise gratitude.

I also remind them that the Quran is meant to be understood and lived. Recitation matters, and its teachings should shape how we speak, decide and treat others.

I have told them that my deepest expectations are simple. I want them to pray five times a day and grow into good Muslims.

I want them to know how to express what they feel. I want them to trust that they can come to me.

I do not know the full extent of that trust, especially now that they are entering their teenage years. There will always be parts of their inner lives that belong to them.

Still, they often knock on my door and ask to speak to me privately. They tell me things they do not feel ready to share with anyone else.

I take that as a good sign.

For a long time, I believed these lessons were enough. School could take care of academics, while I focused on helping them become emotionally aware, spiritually grounded and able to understand themselves.

Now, my eldest son is fifteen, and the future feels closer.

My husband has also begun to worry. He thinks we need to encourage the children to put more effort into their studies.

I understand his concern.

There is a point where protecting a child from pressure can become a way of protecting them from difficulty. I am beginning to wonder whether my fear of stressing them has made me too hesitant to ask for more.

Yesterday, I spoke to the children about increasing their effort little by little.

I told them that difficult things often become easier with practice. The first few attempts may feel frustrating. Repetition helps the mind and body become more familiar with the work.

I also told them that I care less about their final results than the effort they are willing to make.

I want them to try things that feel uncomfortable. I want them to understand that frustration does not always mean they should stop. Sometimes it means they are still learning.

This will be difficult for them.

It will also be difficult for me.

I will have to encourage them without becoming harsh. I will need to recognise the difference between avoidance and genuine overwhelm. I may have to speak with teachers, consider assessments and explore learning strategies we have not tried before.

Most of all, I will have to resist measuring their worth through their grades.

Academic achievement matters because it can open doors and build confidence. It should never become the only way they understand their value.

Perhaps this stage of parenting requires a different balance.

My children still need compassion, patience and room to understand themselves. They also need discipline, challenge and the confidence that grows from staying with something difficult.

For years, I have taught them how to understand who they are.

Now, I may also need to teach them how to discover what they are capable of.