Reflections on "Power" as a parent — moving beyond "Because I Said So"

What power means and how to exercise it well, in parenting.

I recently finished reading Deborah H. Gruenfeld's book "Acting with Power," and it's given me a whole new perspective on “Power”.

For the longest time, the concept of "power" was abstract and distant to me. I always associated it with royalty or corporate executives — those at the top, whose decisions could potentially change the course of history. I rarely considered its impact on my own life or work, assuming power would only find me once I reached a certain position.

The title of the book is intriguing: "Acting with Power: Why We Are More Powerful Than We Believe." Gruenfeld argues that we possess more power than we realize, and we often underestimate our ability to use it. Whether in the workplace or at home, power constantly influences our interactions with others.

Understanding power

So, what is power? The book offers a fascinating definition: Power isn't about personal reputation or property, but rather the role you play in someone else's story. It's the ability to control others and outcomes. Your power depends on how much others need you. When someone needs you, and you can meet their needs better than others, you have more power over them — when people need you, they'll try to please you, giving you control.

Before our baby was born, I spent a lot of time researching sleep training. One book mentioned a key principle: As parents, we have the ultimate say in how we raise our children. With infants, our attitude is, "I'm the parent, I make the rules. You're the baby, you follow our rules. I can't solve all your problems, but I'll be by your side as you learn to solve them yourself."

I realized that with a new baby, we'd be entering a relationship of mutual dependence, and I'd soon be exercising parental power.

Gruenfeld’s book reminds me that most people naturally see parents as having more authority than children and can tell children what to do. But as parents, we also want our children to love and respect us, to validate our parenting abilities. That's why we often end up catering to our children. Even though babies are small and fragile, we still seek something from them — we work hard to learn about parenting, feed and change them quickly, and make a nice home for them. We do all this to show we're good parents. This is where babies get their power.

Parents and children clearly have different levels of power, just like bosses and employees at work. Parents and bosses are the authority figures and naturally have more control. Children and employees often feel pressure when getting advice or instructions from these authority figures. This makes them think carefully about how to react.

How to exercise power wisely

As a relatively new parent, I often wonder: How can we parents use our power correctly? When I tell my child "do this, don't do that," am I more concerned about their needs or my own authority? How much freedom should I give them?

When we started teaching our baby to eat solid food, I learned a helpful idea: Parents choose what food to offer, when, and where. But the baby decides how much to eat. I like this approach. It lets me make important choices while giving my baby some freedom. If we try to control everything, even how much they eat, it might backfire and make them hate mealtimes. Now, our baby loves eating and runs to the table when it's time to eat. I think this is because we let our baby have some control during meals.

If parents want to give their children freedom and a sense of "democracy" but do not follow through, the results can be worse than not trying at all. I've seen people online share experiences from their childhoods — parents asking what they want to eat, only to say "that's unhealthy, eat something else" or unilaterally changing to what they think is better, leading to emotional breakdowns. To the child, this feels fake. They think their parents are pretending to care about their opinion. The parents seem to ask what the child wants, but then ignore it and do what they think is best. This makes the child feel hurt and angry. They wonder, "Why ask me what I want if you're just going to do what you want anyway?”

Parents might feel confused and hurt too. They think they're doing what's best for their child, so they don't understand why their child is upset. Gruenfeld says the key is to use our power in smart ways that lead to good results.

I think the person with more authority should take responsibility when things go wrong in these situations. Someone's emotional outburst is usually not because of just one incident. It's often the result of similar things happening many times before.

So how can we exercise power well?

Gruenfeld doesn't provide a one-size-fits-all formula, but offers some ideas: At different times, we all play roles in others' stories — we're parents to our children, children to our parents, subordinates to our bosses, guests in others' homes — why not perform on these stages? In life, as in theater, the roles we play give us power. If necessary, we can deliberately exaggerate or downplay the influence of power.

When children are young and most dependent on their parents, mimicking their every move and relying on them for survival, we can play the role of their safe harbor. A child's world is full of imagination, and we can jump into that world with them. We can become fellow warriors in their games, or the "big monster" they chase around, or roll with them in the grass. When we do these things, we're deliberately downplaying our parental authority, becoming our child's companion, exploring possibilities together, rather than just being the annoying adult who always says "no."

As children grow and become more independent, both mentally and in daily life, relying less on their parents, their stories change. During this process, parents need to learn to change their roles too, gradually letting go of total control, giving children more opportunities to practice and try things, granting them more autonomy, cheering them on from the sidelines, and resisting the urge to jump in and help. If they have different opinions or make choices we don't agree with, we shouldn't rush to comment or reject. Instead, we should try to understand the reasons behind, and see things from their perspective.

I once heard some story that baffled me: An 80-year-old couple, both seriously ill, said their biggest worry was their 50-year-old son. What role are these parents playing in their 50-year-old "child's" story? Probably not the kind of role I want to play.

One of my favorite Chinese authors, Lung Ying-tai, wrote beautifully about parenting in her book "The Long Goodbye". She says, "I slowly realized that being a parent means spending a lifetime watching your child walk away from you. You stand at one end of a path, seeing them move further and further away, until they turn a corner and disappear from view. As they walk away, their back seems to silently tell you: Don't follow.”

Will I ever feel like an "expert" parent? Probably not.

Maybe it's enough to just walk alongside our children, watch them with curiosity, and keep learning how to fit into their lives as they grow.