What the Next Generation Needs Most

Why presence, not perfection, is the gift that shapes a life

I want to be clear about something before we get into this one...

This isn’t a post about right or wrong parenting.

It’s not a prescription.

It’s not a judgment.

It’s simply what I’ve learned—from reading countless parenting books, from years of observation, and from being a parent to three myself.

And what I keep coming back to, again and again, is this:

What kids need most hasn’t changed nearly as much as the world around them has.

We spend a lot of time worrying about the next generation.

We worry about their screen time, their attention spans, their anxiety, their resilience. We talk about how glued they are to their phones, how disconnected they seem, how different everything feels from when we were growing up.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth we don’t often say out loud:

Kids didn’t create this environment. They inherited it.

And before we ask more of them, it’s worth looking—gently and honestly—at ourselves.

The mirror we tend to avoid

It’s easy to say, “Kids are always on their phones.”

It’s harder to notice how often our own eyes are down instead of up.

At the dinner table.

On the couch.

At the park.

In the car.

We scroll while they talk.

We half-listen while they look for connection.

We multitask while they’re trying to be seen.

This isn’t about blame.

It’s about awareness.

Because kids learn far less from what we tell them than from what we model.

Attention is the language kids understand best

Psychiatrist Daniel Siegel talks about mindsight—the experience of feeling seen, understood, and held in another person’s awareness. That sense of being noticed is foundational to emotional development.

And Dr. Becky Kennedy reminds us of something equally important:

Kids are good inside.

They’re not broken.

They’re not failing.

They’re responding—beautifully and imperfectly—to the environments we’ve created.

What they need most isn’t stricter rules or better explanations.

It’s attention.

Undivided.

Unrushed.

Human.

Because attention tells a child:

You matter.

You’re worth my time.

I see you.

And when kids feel seen, they feel safe.

When they feel safe, they grow.

The 3 C’s, lived—not taught

This is where everything I believe about authenticity comes into play.

Presence isn’t abstract. It’s practical.

Clarity might look like this:

When you’re in a room with your child, quietly asking yourself, What’s most important here right now?

The answer is almost never the phone in your hand.

It’s the human in front of you.

Courage might be the simple—but surprisingly difficult—act of putting the phone down.

Especially when everyone else is scrolling.

Especially when it feels uncomfortable.

Especially when you’re afraid of missing something.

That’s where FOMO can quietly turn into something else:

LOMO — the Love of Missing Out.

Because you’re choosing to be present for what actually matters to you.

Connection is what happens as a result.

Not forced.

Not perfect.

Just real.

Kids don’t need flawless parents.

They need available ones.

Presence is the behavior that shapes everything else

We talk a lot about what we want kids to become:

Confident.

Resilient.

Kind.

Grounded.

Authentic.

But those qualities aren’t taught through lectures.

They’re absorbed through relationship.

Kids learn presence by being with present adults.

They learn authenticity by watching us live honestly.

They learn regulation by being around regulated nervous systems.

They learn connection by experiencing it.

If we want kids to be less distracted, we have to model focus.

If we want them to be emotionally aware, we have to practice awareness.

If we want them to feel connected, we have to meet them where they are.

This isn’t about perfection.

It’s about intention.

Why this matters at every age

This isn’t just about toddlers.

Young kids need presence to build secure attachment.

Adolescents need it to feel anchored while they’re figuring out who they are.

Young adults need it to feel supported without being controlled.

And in schools especially, students of every age need grounded adults.

Teachers.

Mentors.

Coaches.

Counselors.

Your presence is often the most stabilizing force in a child’s day.

Not your lesson plan.

Not your expertise.

You.

A closing trail marker

We don’t need to fix the next generation.

We need to show up for them.

To look up more than we look down.

To listen without rushing to respond.

To model the kind of life we hope they’ll one day live.

Because the greatest gift we can give kids isn’t control, protection, or even answers.

It’s presence.

And when we choose that—consistently, imperfectly, humanly—we give them something no screen ever could:

A real connection.

A steady guide.

A living example of what it means to be fully here.