805. Have you ever worried that wanting your child to be “great” might actually come from oppressive messages you’ve absorbed? In this episode, Dr. Nanika Coor explores how internalized ideas of excellence can show up in parenting, especially for BIPOC folks and parents raising marginalized kids—and offers compassionate reframes to help you nurture your child’s worth and liberation.
805. Have you ever worried that wanting your child to be “great” might actually come from oppressive messages you’ve absorbed? In this episode, Dr. Nanika Coor explores how internalized ideas of excellence can show up in parenting, especially for BIPOC folks and parents raising marginalized kids—and offers compassionate reframes to help you nurture your child’s worth and liberation.
Find a transcript here.
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I’m sure you’ve felt it. That moment when your kid is just being themselves, but also maybe not fitting polite society’s mold. Or not meeting society’s mold. Or not meeting unspoken expectations. And a nagging voice starts, “Is my kid going to be okay? Shouldn’t I push them to be more? To be better?” This feeling comes from a place of deep love and protection. But what if it's connected to ideas you’ve absorbed from the world without even knowing it?
Welcome back to Project Parenthood, I’m your host, Dr. Nanika Coor. Each week I’ll help you raise kids in ways that are compassionate, respectful, anti-oppressive, and grounded in connection and community.
Today, I’m diving into a question that many parents wrestle with, especially those raising neurodivergent, disabled, or gender-creative kids, and for parents who are BIPOC - Black, Indigenous, or other people of color: Is my desire for my child's "greatness" a form of love, or is it a passing down of harmful ideas rooted in systems of oppression?
Before we dive in, take a moment. Notice what's happening in your body as you listen. A tightness in your shoulders? A quickening of your breath? A feeling of interest or worry. Just notice it with curiosity and without judgment. This is a topic that might touch on some of your deepest fears and longings.
Let’s get into it.
Parenting in today’s world can feel like standing in front of a giant ladder. All around you, the message is clear: Get your child to climb. Higher. Faster. Don’t let them be average. If they can just get into the right program, the right circle, the right school—then maybe they’ll be safe, respected, and have a good life.
This is a seductive ladder. It promises security, belonging, and success. Real talk, though? The ladder was built on white supremacist, patriarchal, ableist, capitalist foundations. It was never designed to carry all children to the top—especially not children of color, disabled kids, neurodivergent kids, or gender-creative kids. For these families, the pressure often feels doubled: if your children aren’t excellent, elite, or at least “normal,” the fear is that the world won’t even see their humanity at all.
For BIPOC parents, that is, parents who are Black, Indigenous or people of color, this kind of pushing can echo survival strategies passed down through the generations—like the belief that being “twice as good” is the only way through a racist system. For parents raising disabled or neurodivergent children, the pushing can sound like, “If you can just fit in, you’ll be safe.” For parents of gender-creative kids, it may sound like, “If you just act more ‘normal,’ maybe people will accept you - or at least they might not hurt you.”
But what if there’s another possibility: what if climbing the ladder wasn’t a thing? You can step back and ask yourself: what if my role as a parent isn’t to push my child to the top of an oppressive system, but to nurture the conditions where they feel whole, worthy, and deeply connected to themselves and others, no matter how the world measures them?
This conundrum reminds me of the phrase, “Black excellence.” While celebrating Black greatness is an important part of Black liberation, it can also come with some baggage. When it’s tied to individual achievement—the “first Black person” to do this, or the “youngest Black person” to do that—it risks turning liberation into survival-through-exceptionalism.
It can suggest that Black worth is proven only when a Black person outperforms, assimilates, or gains access to “elite” spaces designed by white supremacy in the first place.
That idea of “Black excellence” can act as a kind of propaganda that shifts the focus away from systemic inequities and onto individual effort. It sends the message, “If one of us can do it, the rest of us should be able to as well.” And if someone doesn't, maybe they just weren’t excellent enough. That’s not a message of liberation.
Even when it’s meant as celebration, “Black excellence” can unintentionally imply that the majority of Black people are somehow not excellent. That only the ones who cross certain thresholds—get certain degrees, earn certain incomes, break certain records—are worthy of recognition. This reproduces class hierarchies and dismisses everyday survival, creativity, and care as less-than.
At the same time, it’s also important to recognize that “Black excellence” isn’t always about individual achievement. Many use “Black excellence” to mean that Blackness itself is inherently excellent—not because it meets white standards, but because it exists. I’m thinking about the “Black is beautiful” movement during the Civil Rights era—it wasn’t about measuring up to whiteness, it was about reclaiming and affirming Blackness on its own terms.
Take Mae Jemison, the first Black woman in space. Yes, her achievement was groundbreaking, but she didn’t stop there. She’s spent her life advocating for underrepresented kids in STEM, expanding opportunities, and challenging systemic barriers. She didn’t stop at individual greatness—she’s chosen collective empowerment.
So, like many cultural phrases, “Black excellence” can hold complexity: it can reinforce harmful hierarchies, and it can also be used strategically to resist and create space for access and joy.
Now, I want to circle back to parenting. Because the same dynamics can show up in the way many parents think about their kids.
If you’ve internalized the idea that the only safe way forward is for your kids to be exceptional, elite, or whatever “normal,” is then you may unconsciously push them to perform for a system that wasn’t designed to see their wholeness. And it makes sense when you’ve inherited these ideas from a place of generational survival. But if you don’t question them, they can also become tools of oppression in your own home.
When internalized oppression sneaks into your parenting it might sound like:
A reframe from a place of liberation and compassion might shift these statements to:
Notice how the second set of statements shifts the focus from proving worth to affirming it? From striving to belong in certain spaces to belonging in your own skin?
These small language shifts communicate and model the larger truth: your child’s value isn’t conditional - it’s a given. When you lead with compassion, you can help them discover their values, and you can create an environment where they know—deep down—that they’re already whole.
Before I wrap up, I invite you to again notice what's happening in your body. If this was challenging to hear - what’s letting you know? Sensations? Thoughts? Memories? Images? Just notice whatever’s here without judgment, and with curiosity.
Meditate on this idea this week: Your child’s value doesn’t depend on being “exceptional” in the eyes of whiteness, capitalism, or patriarchy. They don’t have to be the “first,” or the “only,” or the “best” to deserve safety, belonging, and joy. They don’t have to prove anything to be worthy - and neither do you.
Listen - if some internalized oppression has crept into your parenting, it doesn’t mean you’re failing! It means you’re human. Everyone is carrying these messages unconsciously to one degree or another. The work is about noticing them, deciding to set them down, and consciously making a different choice. Know that your child is so lucky to have a parent who is out here wrestling with these important issues in the first place.
Much more than being “great,” your child needs to be loved, and they need to be free. Try shifting your focus from your child’s “achievement” to celebrating their becoming. From striving for social signifiers to cultivating liberated ways of living and loving. As Audre Lorde reminded us all: “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house”.
If you’ve found this episode helpful, I’d love it if you shared it with a friend who might have ambivalence around pushing their child to be “excellent." Remember that you’re not the only one—parenting isn’t meant to be a solo project. Your fellow listeners are all learning, unlearning, and reimagining too - building communities where both children and parents get to grow in wholeness.
How are you managing internalized oppression? Let me know! You can contact me via Instagram @bkparents, or via my email at parenthood@quickanddirtytips.com. If you’re feeling alone in your parenting journey, head to my website at brooklynparenttherapy.com, where you can join my newsletter to learn about upcoming community parent events. I’m Dr. Nanika Coor. Thanks for listening. I’ll catch you next week.
Project Parenthood is a Quick and Dirty Tips podcast. Thanks to the team: audio-engineer Dan Feierabend; Holly Hutchings, director of podcasts; advertising operations specialist Morgan Christianson; marketing manager, Rebekah Sebastian and thanks also to our contractor, Nat Hoopes.