rethinking the way we see and raise children: On identity, presence, and parenting as a practice of respect.

TL;DR

• Parenting with respect means recognizing children as whole, complete beings from birth—not blank slates to mold. 
  
• By seeing life through their eyes, honoring their identity, and breaking cycles of control and disregard, we create deeper connections and healthier relationships. 
  
• Respectful parenting isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence, humility, and unlearning old patterns so both parent and child can grow together.
  
  

The Unexpected Beginning

When my son was born four years ago, I was gifted a book about respectful parenting and it changed everything for me. It was Magda Gerber’s Dear Parent: Caring for Infants with Respect. Ignoring the age-old advice not to judge a book by its cover, I took one look at it and promptly dismissed it. Respectful parenting? Isn’t that what everyone on the internet claims creates entitled, self-absorbed, spoiled children who yell at their pushover parents? Besides, my baby was only two weeks old—why would respect matter yet? 

Still, I knew I wanted to raise a well-rounded human. I knew I wanted to love and care for him as best as I could. Staring at the title, I realized I had never actually thought through how I would accomplish that. So, I humbled myself and opened the first page, only to discover this particular copy had been printed backwards. I had to flip to the very last page to find the beginning of what was to become the wisdom that defined my approach to parenting.

Reading Magda’s work, I began uncovering unconscious biases deep within me. For example: why do we believe infants are worthy of our love but not of our respect? I realized that I carried the assumption that infants are blank slates who don’t know anything. I do not believe that anymore. 

But even if that were true, wouldn’t that make an even stronger case for treating them with the same courtesy and kindness we give to anyone else we cherish? A blank slate has the potential to become a beautiful work of art—a tribute to wholeness. 

Seeing Through New Eyes

I began to see the world from my infant’s perspective: one day he is in the womb where no pain, suffering, or unmet needs exist; the next, he is thrust into a vast new world full of sights, sounds, tastes, sensations and all sorts of new experiences. In a way, he was like an alien landing on a strange planet, learning everything from scratch—how to have a body, how to relate to others, how to survive, what everything means. I imagined myself in his place. If I had landed on a new planet and found a guide waiting to show me how to live, what would I want that relationship to look like?

Born Whole: Rethinking Identity

As I watched my son grow, I began to wonder, “If we are not blank slates, then when does identity form? When do we become who we are?” My lived experience tells me this: we come to this life already as ourselves. There isn’t one moment where identity appears; rather, we come into life whole, and then we are shaped and molded by experience. 

If that really is true, then my son came here already complete, already himself. My role as his parent wasn’t to make him who I thought he should be. It was to nurture, protect and respect him so that he could grow into adulthood with the wholeness he brought into this world.

Breaking the Cycle

How different might our lives—and our world—be, if we had been seen, respected and appreciated for who we inherently are, right from the beginning? So many of us carry the weight of having been disregarded, overridden, and controlled throughout childhood. I know I did. 

Like many others, there were moments where I felt forced to choose between authenticity—being who I truly was—and conformity, safety or even survival. These moments, both small and large, chip away at our wholeness. And even though it’s not always our parents’ fault, intergenerational trauma sneaks in and ends up being unconsciously passed from one generation to the next. It became important to me to do everything in my power to break those cycles, so my son could cultivate the gift of his identity and bloom fully into the beauty of his life.

Respect in Practice

There are simple, yet powerful ways to practice respect as parents. One lesson from Magda Gerber was to speak to your child the way you would speak to any adult you respect. You wouldn’t approach your boss in a squeaky voice and say, “Oh look! You picked up the pen! Good job! And what color is your shirt? Blue? Yes, good job!” So, I replaced the squeaky voice and the endless “good jobs” with meaningful presence and thoughtful feedback: “I see you put on your shirt!” Or “Thank you for helping me with the car seat. That was great teamwork.” 

The Daily Challenge

Now that my son is a little older, I feel the daily challenge between wanting to control him—or the situation—and choosing instead to foster a respectful connection. It is a constant struggle, one that pushes me into deep self-work and self-reparenting.  I often fall short of my own expectations. But parenting is beautiful in that, if I humble myself, I often get a second chance.

Learning from Failure

Recently, after a big move, my son’s behavior became quite challenging—and I did not respond well. I raised my voice, responded impatiently, and even pulled him through a parking lot while both of us cried. I had to pull myself aside and reparent myself towards a more grounded, mature place. I approached him and apologized, telling him I felt bad for having raised my voice and pulling his arm. He told me in his four-year-old way that he had felt scared when I yelled at him. I said, “I am sorry I raised my voice and scared you. I promise I will do better. Let’s work together next time: you will use your words instead of hitting, and I will stay calm and listen more. Do you think we can do that?” He looked at me with big, hopeful eyes and said, “Ok, Mama, yes!” and after a sweet hug, he smiled genuinely and said, “I love you, Mama.”

The Gift of Unlearning

Clearly, I am not a perfect parent. I don’t get it right every time. But I am grateful to this sweet soul who teaches me every day about honoring the wholeness in one another. I am learning to choose curiosity over assumption, listening over control, respect over compliance; trust over fear. I am practicing what it means to set healthy boundaries—not through ego or power, but through love. And most of all, I am learning to love and nurture someone as they are, without control or agenda. Ironically, this learning is actually a process of unlearning. And in this unlearning, a truly beautiful gift is born: a profoundly healing and humbling human experience I never imagined in my wildest dreams. At the beginning of this journey, I thought I would be the one teaching my son about life. But as it turns out, he is the one teaching me.