I do believe that when your child does poorly on a test, your

Hear the words of Amy Chua, who spoke with the sternness of discipline and the clarity of truth: “I do believe that when your child does poorly on a test, your first step should not necessarily be to attack the teacher or the school’s curriculum. It should be to look at the idea that, maybe, the child didn’t work hard enough.” These words, though sharp, are meant not to wound but to awaken. They remind us that responsibility is the soil from which greatness grows, and that before we cast blame upon others, we must first examine the effort of our own hands and hearts.

The heart of this teaching lies in accountability. The teacher and the school may indeed falter at times, but it is a dangerous reflex to lay blame outward without first turning inward. The child, like all mortals, must learn that effort and discipline shape destiny far more than excuses or complaints. To fail and then to seek only fault in others is to miss the opportunity to rise, to correct, to strengthen oneself. True growth demands courage to admit, “I did not labor enough,” and to resolve, “I will strive harder.”

The ancients knew this truth well. When the young Alexander the Great studied under Aristotle, he did not always find the lessons easy. Yet instead of faulting the master or rejecting the teachings, he redoubled his effort, stretching his mind to grasp what was placed before him. Later, when he conquered vast lands, he carried not the excuse of hardship, but the fruits of diligence. So it is for every student—the path is never without struggle, but struggle is the forge where strength is made.

History also gives us the story of Abraham Lincoln, whose early schooling was meager, with few books and little guidance. He could have cursed the absence of better teachers or richer curricula, but instead he taught himself by candlelight, writing with charcoal upon wooden boards, memorizing passages of law and literature. His greatness did not spring from blaming what he lacked, but from working hard with what little he had.

The meaning of Chua’s words is clear: to shield a child from responsibility is not to love them, but to weaken them. A parent who always blames the school or the teacher robs the child of the chance to grow through effort. For one who learns that every failure can be excused will never learn the power of perseverance. But the one who accepts responsibility, even when burdened by failure, finds within themselves the strength to rise again and again.

Yet let this not be misread as cruelty. To hold a child accountable is not to abandon them, but to guide them toward resilience. The wise parent does not scold without love, nor demand without support. They stand as both mirror and pillar: the mirror to show the child where effort was lacking, and the pillar to hold them steady as they try once more. Thus discipline and compassion must walk hand in hand.

The lesson for us is this: in the face of failure, look first to effort before casting blame outward. Ask yourself: did I, or did my child, truly give all that was possible? If not, let the failure be the teacher, and let it ignite greater resolve. If yes, then seek where guidance may be lacking, but always after honest self-examination. For true success does not come from the perfection of the school, nor the flawlessness of the teacher, but from the fire of persistence within the student.

So let Amy Chua’s words endure: “When a child fails a test, the first thought should be: did they work hard enough?” Carry this wisdom as a shield against the easy refuge of blame. Teach your children, and yourself, that responsibility is the foundation of strength, and that only through effort, struggle, and perseverance can the heights of greatness be reached.