When Parents Know Best — And When to Listen Differently

(Inspired by The Crown, Season 2, Episode 9: “Paterfamilias”)

There’s an episode of The Crown that has stayed with me for years. In Paterfamilias, Prince Philip insists his son, Charles, attend his own alma mater, Gordonstoun—an austere boarding school meant to toughen him up. Charles longs instead for Eton, where he believes he would belong. Watching that episode as both a parent and someone who’s spent nearly two decades helping families choose schools, I’ve always found the tension deeply familiar.

At one school, I watched a student and her parent visibly argue during a demo lesson. The teacher sought me out afterward, equal parts concerned and compassionate. At another, a parent’s enthusiasm during a tour was so palpable that I could feel the student retreat into quiet resistance. And then there was the kindergartener whose innocent comment about the playground tipped the scales of a family’s decision.

These moments stay with you. They reveal the same conflict The Crown dramatizes so well: the push and pull between what parents believe a child needs and what the child believes they want. Most of us aren’t choosing between castles and boarding schools—but every parent, at some point, faces that same crossroads.

Why This Story Resonates

I’ve watched countless families wrestle with competing instincts: the desire to guide, the wish to honor a child’s voice, and the fear of making the wrong choice. It’s a journey that teaches us as much about parenting as it does about finding the right educational fit.

Schools today are remarkably good at speaking directly to students—through shadow days, peer ambassadors, and student-centered digital marketing. It’s smart and often effective. But it can tilt the balance of the conversation at home, especially with teens eager to assert independence. Parents who once had full control over the preschool search may now find themselves competing with school videos, influencer content, and student testimonies that feel tailor-made for their child.

This isn’t necessarily bad. It’s simply a new landscape—one that requires parents to stay grounded in what they know best: the story of their child.

The Parent’s Instinct: We Know Our Children Best

Even when children push away our advice, they still crave our validation. Within their resistance lies the wisdom we’ve been nurturing all along. The challenge is learning to balance their perspective with ours—and discovering what I like to call the “superperspective,” the space between both truths.

Depending on your child’s age—whether four, ten, thirteen, or seventeen—their ability to distinguish between preference and fit is still developing. Preferences are easy to spot: the new playground, the fun chemistry demo, the school that “just feels cool.” Fit, however, lives in subtler territory: the values, support systems, and culture that sustain growth over time. One looks at the short-term; the other considers the long-term.

Parents have a unique vantage point to assess that long view. We see our children’s resilience and energy levels. We know which environments make them flourish and which make them fold. And we understand, sometimes better than anyone, what values we hope a school will reinforce.

I’ve seen many students thrive at schools their parents championed, the same places that didn’t make the child’s initial “top three.” Months later, those same students often say, “My parents were right.”

That’s not coincidence; that’s perspective.

The Child’s Perspective: Voice, Autonomy, and Identity

Remember the advice to give toddlers choices to avoid tantrums? The idea is to nurture autonomy even when setting limits. The tantrums subside, but the desire for agency doesn’t. It just grows more complex.

For middle and high schoolers, the school search becomes a kind of boss-level exercise in autonomy. It involves money, emotion, and time. Every decision carries meaning: What do I want? Who do I want to be? It’s identity work disguised as a school search.

As parents, our role is to guide that process, not override it. We should validate their opinions, even when we privately disagree. A student with no voice or preference is a warning sign of another kind.

When your child says, “I want to go there,” ask why. Is it the friends? The feel of the campus? The story they’re telling about themselves? These truths rarely emerge in one conversation. They unfold slowly, during car rides, over dinner, or in quiet moments before bed.

Listening doesn’t mean surrendering authority; it means sharing discernment. It means holding the “superperspective” together.

Bridging the Divide: Practical Ways to Decide Together

Here are five practical ways to make the school search a shared, meaningful process:

1. Name your non-negotiables early.
Before touring schools, agree on what matters most: community, academic rigor, balance, arts, faith, or something else. Let your child help rank these priorities. It can be hard to rule out schools early, but it keeps your investment—of time, energy, and tuition—aligned with your family’s values, not someone else’s opinions.

2. Debrief separately, then compare notes.
After a visit, write down your impressions privately and ask your child to do the same. When you share, look for where your lists overlap and where they diverge. The differences are the gold. They reveal how each of you is defining “fit.” Avoid defaulting to “well, it’s ultimately their choice” unless you’re prepared to repeat that approach in future decisions, like college searches. Consistency matters, even for 17-year-olds.

3. Look beyond the open-house glow.
Like people, some schools excel at first impressions. Ask what life feels like on an ordinary Tuesday in February, not just on a showcase day. If you’re not sure how to get that sense, read my earlier post on The Real Open House.

4. Watch your child’s energy.
Body language often tells the story before words do. Do they stand taller in one environment? Withdraw in another? Children haven’t yet mastered the art of managing their non-verbal signals, and those clues are often the most honest.

5. Trust—but verify—your instincts.
Every parent second-guesses themselves. Prince Philip believed Gordonstoun would make Charles strong because it had done so for him. Many of us fall into similar logic: If it worked for me, it must work for my child. But each child’s temperament is unique. Pair your gut feeling with insight. If a school feels right for reasons you can’t quite name, talk with current parents, teachers, or advisors who know your child well. Sometimes your intuition just needs more information.

What The Crown Gets Right (and Wrong)

The episode ends with Charles returning home for the holidays, comforted by the warmth and familiarity of Windsor Castle. His father reflects, perhaps realizing that character can’t be manufactured through discomfort alone. Philip’s mistake wasn’t wanting strength for his son; it was believing it could only be forged his way.

Most of us can relate. We rarely get do-overs in parenting. We act on what we know. But the goal isn’t to mold our children into who we were; it’s to help them become who they’re meant to be.

Choosing a school is, at its core, an act of trust: trust in your child, trust in the educators who will guide them, and trust in yourself as a parent. When those three trusts align, children flourish.

It’s like a three-legged stool: one leg for the child, one for the parent, one for the school. When all three are in balance, a student can sit—and thrive—securely. When one leg grows longer than the others, things wobble. We can’t prevent every imbalance, but we can work together to steady the seat.

That’s the art of choosing well.