I'm Raising My Kids To Question My Authority — & Yours

Quick exercise here: What words do you associate with your mom? Selfless? Indians love that one. How about caring? Hardworking? Strict? How many of you would say accountable?

Let's face it: Our parents never liked to admit that they were wrong. No matter how many mistakes they made, big and small, nothing was ever their fault. And if we as kids dared to question them, we were labeled bad, ungrateful, and worst of all, disrespectful. Our society values submissiveness. The better you can fall into line, the easier your life will be. Don't question too much, ignore injustice, and obey authority without hesitation.

Well, I call bullsh*t.

When I had kids, I promised myself that I would be a different kind of mother — someone who recognized that if I wanted my children to rise above the herd, think for themselves, question the world around them, and stand up for what's right, that revolution had to begin at home.

Of course, it was easier said than done. When my child talks back to me or marches up to me with that "Mom, that's not fair" kind of look, my first instinct is to shut them down. For example, one day, I was telling my son about how things worked when I was a kid and why I spoke to my parents the way I did. I told him about how we weren't allowed to question adults and how "because I said so" was the end of every argument.

After a lot of questions, he just scrunched up his face and said, "That's stupid."

I opened my mouth to correct him — because, you know, respect. But then I stopped. Because, honestly? He wasn't wrong. It was stupid. So instead, I asked, "Why do you think that?" And just like that, we had a conversation. A real, honest back-and-forth where I didn't expect him only to listen. I encouraged him to think.

Now, make no mistake, if you choose to parent this way, people are going to have opinions. Oh, and they won't be shy about sharing them. Some will whisper. Some will roll their eyes. Some will clutch their pearls and declare — gasp — "Bad mother!" Because how dare you raise a child who questions things? Who talks back? Who doesn't just nod, obey, and keep their head down like a "good" kid should?

To me, that doesn't matter.

It's been a long journey to get here, plenty of sleepless nights where I wondered if I was doing the right thing or if I was just setting up my child to fail in a society like ours. Today, it'll be his cousins and relatives who ice him out. Tomorrow, his boss. His friends. His partner. Until one day, he's the one who never fits in.

But every time I think that way, I have to remind myself, "This isn't you talking. It's your ancestors whispering into your ear." It's their voices, their fears, their traditions that I'm carrying with me. They're the ones who told me to keep my head down, stay small, and never rock the boat. And I get it; they were just trying to survive. But this isn't survival mode anymore.

This is about raising a kid who knows their worth. Who won't let people walk all over them. Who won't stay up working until 2 a.m. because their boss said so. Who can say, "No, I'm not putting in overtime tonight," without guilt.

A kid who won't let friends guilt-trip them into plans they don't want. Who'll say, "I'm not available tonight," and actually mean it without feeling like they owe anyone an explanation. A kid who'll take a stand when they see someone being treated unfairly, even if it's unpopular or uncomfortable.

It's about raising someone who doesn't apologize for existing. If that makes me a bad mother, so be it. I'll be as bad as they come.

So yeah, my kid talks back. Do yours? And do you let them?