When Cheerleading is Paralyzing, Not Motivating, For Your Child

For many parents, having a child who is slow-to-warm-up and hesitant to try new things triggers your own anxiety—especially if you are more extroverted by nature and admire kids who are "go-getters." ⁠A common reaction is to act as a cheerleader to convince your child he can do it. You know that your child would love soccer but he resists participating, so you regale him with, “But you're great at soccer. You will love the class.” Your child shows hesitation about going to school, so you try to persuade him with: “The teachers in this school are so nice. And the room has so many amazing toys. You are going to have so much fun!” 

The problem is that while you have the best of intentions, trying to cajole kids to participate when they are feeling anxious often makes them feel worse. It amplifies the shame they are already experiencing about not doing the activity other kids are enjoying. This is especially true for highly sensitive (HS) kids who tend to be more self-conscious. Having attention focused on them, especially when they feel they are being evaluated or judged, can be uncomfortable and exacerbate their stress.

Also keep in mind that children (especially HS kids) are very tuned into the underlying motives of their parents. They see right through you. They are keenly tuned in to what you want from them—what will make you happy. Looking at it through the lens of logic, you might think that your child would be motivated by wanting to please you and would change his behavior accordingly. Instead, what I find is that the pressure kids experiences when they sense how invested you are in their performance is stifling, not motivating. They have to cope with the risk of disappointing you when they won't jump into the pool to join the class with the other kids, or when they resist joining in the scrum at the birthday party. It becomes a relationship issue that is fraught with tension. This makes it less likely your child will feel confident to take a risk and tackle a new challenge.⁠ ⁠

Here’s a story from my practice that shows how cheerleading can backfire:

Max (7) is playing in a basketball game. His dad, Peter, is in the stands and sees that Max is getting increasingly frustrated that no one is passing the ball to him. Just as Peter fears—because Max has a history of sore-losing and blaming it on unfair tactics—Max ultimately storms off the court to where Peter is sitting. Max pretends that the reason he left the game is because there is something in his eye; he doesn't want anyone to think he’s crying. Then he blurts out to Peter: “It's not fair! No one is passing the ball to me so I can't make any baskets!”

With the best of intentions, Peter launches right into encouragement/cheerleading/problem-solving mode: "That happens in games. You can't always get the ball or a basket. What do you think your teammates and coach will think about you walking off? You have to get back out there, buddy."

Max responds: "Stop talking to me right now!! You are so annoying!" as he starts to push angrily into Peter. Peter admonishes Max for getting aggressive. This ultimately leads to Max running out of the gym. Peter is feeling distraught about how this behavior will affect his continued participation on this team, how his peers see him, and how in the world he is ever going to be able to teach Max how to be more resilient. 

Our Analysis

Max is a highly sensitive child. He is very self-conscious and focused on how others see his performance. He seeks a lot of praise and needs a lot of external reinforcement.

After we process this incident, Peter is able to see why his response may have backfired; that his intended encouragement was not experienced as motivating, but as added stress. Max is very tuned in to the fact that Peter is disappointed in him; that he wanted Max to be able to buck up and bounce back, which Max was not ready or able to do in that moment. This left Max feeling pressured, alone and misunderstood, making it less likely he would feel confident to get back out there and learn to cope with the challenges of a competitive sport—Peter’s ultimate hope for Max.

The Plan

Peter leads with empathy: "Playing team sports can be challenging and frustrating. You don’t like it when you don’t make baskets or goals and it makes you want to stop playing.” Starting where your child is at maximizes the chance they will be open to rethinking their perspective which can change their reactions. 

Peter lets Max know he is not alone in his feelings or with this experience: "It took me a long time to get comfortable with not always being the best on the team, and not making the goals and baskets I wanted. I ended up deciding that I would try to manage the frustration and disappointment that can happen in team sports because I didn't want to give up playing those games with my friends." 

Peter tells the story of what happened. He recounts the experience matter-of-factly, without judgment, to help Max look at these situations more objectively. "You were open and wanted your teammate to pass the ball to you so you could try for a basket. He kept throwing the ball to other children, or he went to the basket himself. You really want to make baskets and goals when you play sports. When that doesn’t happen, it’s very disappointing. Your feelings were so big and overwhelming that you decided not to play anymore." 

Peter helps Max think through the natural outcome of his choices.  He moves from making statements like, "No one is going to want to play with you." "You'll never get better at basketball if you keep quitting," as he knows these kinds of responses increase Max’s feelings of shame and result in a defensive posture that doesn't help him work through the challenge. Instead, after recounting the story of what happened, Peter asks non-judgmental questions:

• After you quit the game, what happened? How did you feel?

• How do you think quitting made your coach and teammates feel? Is that how you want them to feel about you? 

• Is there a different way you would have liked to respond to this challenging situation? How could you make that happen? How can I help you with that?

This approach—seeking to understand without criticism or judgment—provides an opportunity for children to make connections between their actions and outcomes.

Peter uses his interactions with Max as teachable moments: “I love playing games with you and I know how hard it is when you don’t win, or you don’t perform the way you want. But it’s not fun for me when you accuse me of cheating, change the rules, or attack me. If you’re having a hard time, I can help you calm and move on so we can keep playing. If you’re not able to do that, we will take a break from the game.” He communicates this without frustration and annoyance. He calmly acknowledges the difficult moment and sets boundaries that he hopes will help Max learn to cope better in these situations.

In the heat-of-the-moment, Peter avoids telling Max what to do, as that always leads to a defensive reaction. Instead, he positions himself as a person who will help Max think through these tricky situations: "Looks like your options are to take some deep breaths and go back into the game or take a break and then figure out how you want to proceed. Which do you think is a better choice for you?" 

The Outcome

Now that Peter is no longer trying to change Max's behavior and is giving him the space and opportunity to figure things out for himself, Max is calming more quickly and is sometimes open to engaging in a reflective process to think through these difficult situations. This is what gives Max the best chance of building the resilience Peter knows would be so good for him. When Peter sets a limit when Max gets revved up and aggressive during a game they are engaged in, Max is now more likely to pull himself together so they can keep playing. All told, this change in approach has solidified a strong bond between Peter and Max, who now feels seen, understood, and respected by his dad. 

For more on how to encourage children to try new things, check out this blog.