<p>“Convert this to a lower triangular matrix,” I said. “We just wrote down the definition of a lower triangular matrix.” I waited a few minutes, only to be met with blank stares — and a few that felt almost hostile. What? You expect us to try? Why should we, when there are so many online tools that can give us the answer? Just let us use our smartphones. Their eyes said all of this without a word.</p>.<p>Teachers have a natural urge to see children succeed. They clear their path, supply resources, and sometimes, in an eagerness to help them flourish, they do the work for them. Neatly prepared answers, fully solved math problems, condensed chapter notes — they provide it all. That’s spoon-feeding. But in the process, we often lose sight of something essential: they still have to hold the spoon.</p>.<p><strong>Active engagement</strong></p>.<p>Active engagement and ownership of one’s learning matter more than we sometimes admit. A student who is passively spoon-fed may score well on a test but may struggle in a simple job interview. Quick fixes create long-term dependency. I often find myself saying, “It’s your life, your career. Don’t focus only on the next exam — focus on understanding and application.” They must grasp the handle and guide the spoon to their lips. Even if it’s messy, at least try. Learn at least a little more on your own than what is taught.</p>.Striking a balance in the world of children.<p>Parents and students sometimes wonder, Why struggle at all? “This is the era of immediate information,” many parents feel. “Why stress a child when a quick Google search — or a parent — can clarify anything in seconds?” Students, too, feel that reading long chapters is unnecessary when a GenAI tool can summarise them. Why solve practice questions when ChatGPT can give the answers for submission?</p>.<p>But when we remove struggles and make it easy, we unintentionally signal that learning is supposed to be easy — and that they never need to navigate challenges independently. They start waiting for the next spoonful rather than developing their own learning strategies. Over time, this can lead to a dislike of the subject, weak problem-solving skills, and a fear of failure. And when they eventually face situations where no one can give them the answer — at university, at work, in life — they feel helpless and unprepared.</p>.<p><strong>Creative guidance</strong></p>.<p>“It doesn’t mean leaving children to figure everything out alone,” says Divya Bhat, a counsellor at a well-known university. “Our role as educators and parents must shift from being providers of knowledge to facilitators of learning.”</p>.<p>Nirmala Rao, a history teacher, puts it into practice: instead of simply narrating events, she asks, “The Indian freedom struggle can be viewed from different perspectives — what’s yours?”</p>.<p>A simple question like “Why is time-series data invaluable in econometrics?” can open the door to deeper exploration. The goal is to create learning spaces where questions are valued and exploration is encouraged.</p>.<p>Parents, especially once children finish school, often step back from their learning as long as attendance and grades look fine. But they can still be supportive partners — not on-demand answer keys. Even casual conversations about new projects at work or recent trends can help children connect ideas and build confidence in learning on their own, even with the help of the internet. “Let’s not celebrate only the grades,” says Bhavana, whose son has just begun a commerce course. “Let’s appreciate their effort, perseverance, and curiosity, too.”</p>.<p>Should our children know all the answers? No. We should help them grow into adults who know how to find the answers. We want individuals who are curious, resilient, and confident in their ability to learn anything. I try to resist the urge to hand over the solution the moment a student is stuck. They might remain stuck for a few minutes — or a few classes — but most eventually figure it out, especially with subtle hints. Holding the spoon may be messy; there will be spills and frustrations.</p>.<p>But by letting them think and try, we offer them something far greater than a single, perfect answer. We give them the strength and skill to reach — and enjoy — a better meal, even if it takes a little effort.</p>.<p><em>(The author is a Bengaluru-based academic)</em></p>
<p>“Convert this to a lower triangular matrix,” I said. “We just wrote down the definition of a lower triangular matrix.” I waited a few minutes, only to be met with blank stares — and a few that felt almost hostile. What? You expect us to try? Why should we, when there are so many online tools that can give us the answer? Just let us use our smartphones. Their eyes said all of this without a word.</p>.<p>Teachers have a natural urge to see children succeed. They clear their path, supply resources, and sometimes, in an eagerness to help them flourish, they do the work for them. Neatly prepared answers, fully solved math problems, condensed chapter notes — they provide it all. That’s spoon-feeding. But in the process, we often lose sight of something essential: they still have to hold the spoon.</p>.<p><strong>Active engagement</strong></p>.<p>Active engagement and ownership of one’s learning matter more than we sometimes admit. A student who is passively spoon-fed may score well on a test but may struggle in a simple job interview. Quick fixes create long-term dependency. I often find myself saying, “It’s your life, your career. Don’t focus only on the next exam — focus on understanding and application.” They must grasp the handle and guide the spoon to their lips. Even if it’s messy, at least try. Learn at least a little more on your own than what is taught.</p>.Striking a balance in the world of children.<p>Parents and students sometimes wonder, Why struggle at all? “This is the era of immediate information,” many parents feel. “Why stress a child when a quick Google search — or a parent — can clarify anything in seconds?” Students, too, feel that reading long chapters is unnecessary when a GenAI tool can summarise them. Why solve practice questions when ChatGPT can give the answers for submission?</p>.<p>But when we remove struggles and make it easy, we unintentionally signal that learning is supposed to be easy — and that they never need to navigate challenges independently. They start waiting for the next spoonful rather than developing their own learning strategies. Over time, this can lead to a dislike of the subject, weak problem-solving skills, and a fear of failure. And when they eventually face situations where no one can give them the answer — at university, at work, in life — they feel helpless and unprepared.</p>.<p><strong>Creative guidance</strong></p>.<p>“It doesn’t mean leaving children to figure everything out alone,” says Divya Bhat, a counsellor at a well-known university. “Our role as educators and parents must shift from being providers of knowledge to facilitators of learning.”</p>.<p>Nirmala Rao, a history teacher, puts it into practice: instead of simply narrating events, she asks, “The Indian freedom struggle can be viewed from different perspectives — what’s yours?”</p>.<p>A simple question like “Why is time-series data invaluable in econometrics?” can open the door to deeper exploration. The goal is to create learning spaces where questions are valued and exploration is encouraged.</p>.<p>Parents, especially once children finish school, often step back from their learning as long as attendance and grades look fine. But they can still be supportive partners — not on-demand answer keys. Even casual conversations about new projects at work or recent trends can help children connect ideas and build confidence in learning on their own, even with the help of the internet. “Let’s not celebrate only the grades,” says Bhavana, whose son has just begun a commerce course. “Let’s appreciate their effort, perseverance, and curiosity, too.”</p>.<p>Should our children know all the answers? No. We should help them grow into adults who know how to find the answers. We want individuals who are curious, resilient, and confident in their ability to learn anything. I try to resist the urge to hand over the solution the moment a student is stuck. They might remain stuck for a few minutes — or a few classes — but most eventually figure it out, especially with subtle hints. Holding the spoon may be messy; there will be spills and frustrations.</p>.<p>But by letting them think and try, we offer them something far greater than a single, perfect answer. We give them the strength and skill to reach — and enjoy — a better meal, even if it takes a little effort.</p>.<p><em>(The author is a Bengaluru-based academic)</em></p>