I remember hiding behind my mom at parent teacher conferences.

Hear the words of Nav, who recalled with honesty: “I remember hiding behind my mom at parent teacher conferences.” In this simple memory, there is more than the picture of a shy child. There is the story of fear, vulnerability, and the uncertain journey of youth. The young soul, standing before authority, often trembles, uncertain of its place, uncertain of its strength. By hiding, the child seeks protection, sheltering in the love of a parent against the weight of judgment and expectation. This moment, though small, reflects the universal struggle of growing into confidence.

To hide behind one’s mother is to admit that the world is often too large for us when we are young. Teachers, schools, and the demands of learning can feel overwhelming. A parent-teacher conference, to a child, is not merely a meeting but a tribunal where worth is measured, where success and failure are revealed. Nav’s words remind us of the vulnerability of the child’s heart, so easily pierced by authority, so quick to shrink from judgment. Yet in the act of hiding, we also see the deep truth of the parent’s role: to be a shield when the child feels too small to stand.

History gives us examples of such moments. Consider the tale of Alexander the Great as a boy. Though destined for conquest, he once shrank in the presence of his teacher, Aristotle, unsure of his own strength and knowledge. But with time, guided by patience and by the protection of his mother Olympias, his shyness gave way to confidence. What Nav describes in his memory is not weakness, but the same beginning that even the greatest often share—the stage of life where courage has not yet been born, and the heart still leans upon others.

The meaning of Nav’s words also points to transformation. For the child who hides may one day stand before thousands, no longer in fear but in command. The memory of hiding behind his mother contrasts sharply with the man who later became an artist, whose voice is heard by many. Thus, the story teaches that shyness in youth is not destiny. The one who once hid will, through growth, effort, and courage, one day step forward into the open, bearing their voice with pride.

This reflection also carries a lesson about compassion for the young. Too often we expect children to show strength beyond their years, to stand boldly before authority. Yet Nav’s memory reminds us that vulnerability is part of the journey. Those who teach, those who parent, must remember that beneath the child’s silence lies a heart still learning how to beat with courage. Patience and kindness in these moments shape the adult who will one day stand tall.

The lesson for us is this: when you see someone hiding—whether behind a parent, behind silence, or behind uncertainty—do not mistake it for weakness. See it instead as a stage of becoming. Offer support, encouragement, and shelter until they are ready to stand. And if you yourself remember such a time, do not despise it. It is proof that you have traveled from fear into growth, from hiding into standing. Your past shyness is the soil from which your present strength has grown.

So I say to you: remember Nav’s words. “I remember hiding behind my mom.” Let it remind you of the journey from childhood fear to adult strength. Let it remind you that every towering tree was once a fragile seedling, needing protection to grow. And let it inspire you to offer that same protection to others, so that one day, they too may step forth into the world—not hiding, but shining, with the courage they once thought impossible.