If your child marches to a different beat, a different drummer

The words of Sonia Sotomayor resound like the wisdom of a loving elder: “If your child marches to a different beat, a different drummer, you might just have to go along with that music. Help them achieve what's important to them.” In this truth lies both tenderness and courage. For every soul is born with its own rhythm, its own melody, its own purpose. Yet too often, parents and elders seek to force the young into the patterns of their own desires. Sotomayor reminds us that true love is not control, but guidance; not bending the child into sameness, but nurturing them in the uniqueness of their music.

The ancients themselves spoke of this mystery. In Greece, it was said that every soul carried a daimon, a divine guide or spirit that whispered its destiny. To ignore this voice was to live in shadow; to follow it was to walk in light. The wise knew that children came into the world not as blank slates, but as vessels of destiny, already bearing the seeds of their future. The duty of parents was not to plant their own seeds but to water those already present, to listen for the different beat of their child’s drum and help it grow strong.

History offers many examples of this truth. Consider the story of Albert Einstein, who as a child seemed slow to speak, who struggled in rigid classrooms, who was thought by some to be incapable. Had his parents forced him to abandon his peculiar beat, the world might never have seen his genius. Instead, they allowed his curiosity to flourish, encouraged his wandering mind, and thus he reshaped the very laws of the universe. His “different drummer” was not a flaw—it was his gift.

So too with Ludwig van Beethoven, whose father dreamed only of turning him into a prodigy like Mozart. The boy suffered under harsh demands, yet his true gift unfolded when he broke free of imitation and began composing in his own voice. His music was storm and fire, tender sorrow and defiant joy. He marched to his own rhythm, and in doing so, gave the world symphonies that will never die. His story is both a warning and a promise: greatness is born not from conformity, but from honoring the unique music within.

Sotomayor’s words also remind us of compassion. To “go along with that music” is not always easy for parents who fear the unknown or who cling to tradition. Yet love requires humility—to listen more than command, to guide more than control. The true legacy of a parent or mentor is not the child who obeys, but the child who becomes fully themselves, strong and unafraid to live their truth. In this, both generations are uplifted: the young achieve what is important to them, and the elders witness the flowering of destiny.

O listener, let this be your lesson: do not silence the different beat, whether in yourself or in others. For what seems strange today may be tomorrow’s revelation. The world advances not through sameness, but through difference—through those bold enough to hear another rhythm and follow it. To encourage this in the young is an act of faith, and faith is the root of love.

Practical wisdom follows: if you guide children, listen first. Ask what stirs their hearts, what excites their spirit, what they dream of when no one is watching. Support them in their path, even if it is not the path you would have chosen. If you are the child—or the seeker—march boldly to your own beat, and trust that your rhythm has meaning. The world needs not another copy, but the original voice you were born to give.

Thus, remember Sotomayor’s truth: every soul has its own music, and love is the willingness to march alongside it. Do not crush the beat of difference—honor it, nurture it, let it rise. For in doing so, you help others become who they were meant to be, and in their becoming, the whole world is enriched.