The Semantics of "Kind": Why I’m Reframing My Goal for My Daughter

At a recent parent meeting for our preschool co-op, we were asked to name one goal for our children this year. My husband didn’t hesitate: "We want her to keep learning to be kind."

The response from the room was unexpected. There was a sense that "kindness" was a redundant goal for a sweet two-year-old, or worse, a gendered expectation. When my husband described our daughter as "pointed and independent," a joke was made about his "misogyny showing."

I felt the sting of that comment, mostly because I agreed with the sentiment behind it. As a feminist, I want a society that doesn't shy away from direct women. But as her mother and as a survivor of childhood sexual trauma, there is a much more complex layer to why we chose that word.

For us, this co-op isn't about academics or learning to sit in a circle. It’s about social navigation. My daughter is a fierce self-advocate. I have fostered that fiercely; I refused to put her in care until she could speak, ensuring she would always have a voice where I once didn't. But sometimes, her self-advocacy manifests as screaming demands. We want to help her evolve that raw independence into sophisticated social tools: empathy, active listening, and reading a room.

But the meeting reinforced the idea that "kind" and "nice" are not the same thing.

"Nice" is about making others comfortable. "Kindness" is a deeper, more internal orientation. As a first-generation eldest daughter, I spent my life under the suffocating weight of perfectionism. I didn't know how to give myself grace.

When I say I want my daughter to be kind, I mean I want her to be kind to herself.

If she learns the language of self-compassion, she won’t just be "well-behaved." Which is never, contrary to popular belief, what my goal as a behavior analyst is. She will be confident. She will be assertive without being destructive. She will be able to stand up to others because she has already stood up for herself.

If I could go back to that circle of parents, I would refine my answer. I would tell them that my goal isn't to polish her "pointed" edges to make her more palatable for the world. My goal is to foster a love for herself so deep and so kind that she feels safe enough to never stop being curious. Because that’s when real learning happens.