Hi friends,
I’ll be honest, this week, I burnt out.
Thursday afternoon found me curled up on the couch in the throes of a sensible anxiety spiral. Once that passed, I decided that burnout was the perfect thing to write about. As I opened up Substack to draft my piece, an article by one of my favorite authors and new dear friends, Matt Fitzpatrick, caught my eye, titled “Grit is Just Another Word for Endure and Obey”. I never miss one of his pieces, so I opened it, and by the end, my eyes were wet with tears. What Matt wrote put words to the pressures I was feeling with incredible nuance. Matt is an incredible writer, a deep thinker, and we’ve been talking a lot over the past few months about how we can collaborate, his experience as a new parent (more on that soon), and what Queerness means in this day and age.
I asked him if I could pass along this piece to my readers because I think it is essential reading and a perfect introduction to his Substack, What Are We Doing Here. I learn from him every week, and I hope you will too! Subscribe below!
Take it away, Matt!
Grit Is Just Another Word for Endure & Obey
I’ve heard it everywhere — as a student, a teacher, and now as a parent: “They just need more grit.”
It sounds like encouragement. But it's really a warning: we’re not going to change anything. We’re just going to ask kids to try harder.
I’ve said it too. Before I understood what I was participating in. Before I understood what I was passing on.
I’ve seen it play out over and over again. We label kids as “gritty” when they endure injustice quietly. We celebrate perseverance while ignoring pain. We praise resilience instead of asking why it was needed in the first place.
What Grit Culture Gets Wrong
Grit has become a buzzword in parenting and education. Supposedly, it’s the secret to success: the ability to keep going, grinding, striving. But here’s the truth:
Grit culture rewards survival, not growth.
We glorify students who show up no matter what, even if they’re hungry, grieving, exhausted, or scared. We tell them to “push through” instead of asking why they have to push so hard in the first place.
When a student is struggling, saying “have more grit” becomes a shortcut for adult inaction. It puts the responsibility on the child instead of on the systems and adults who could create real support.
It’s not just lazy, it’s harmful. Because grit, as it’s often taught and praised, is not neutral. It ignores trauma. It assumes equity. It reinforces the very conditions that hurt kids most.
Telling a student to just try harder is another way to say, “I’m not changing for you.”
James Baldwin once wrote:
“The paradox of education is precisely this — that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated.”
If that society values compliance over curiosity and endurance over evolution, then grit becomes a tool to keep students in line. Not to set them free.
Where It Leads: Hustle Culture Begins in the Classroom
I used to think I was thriving because I was the “quiet achiever.” I got my work done. I didn’t cause problems. I didn’t complain. I was praised for it.
What no one saw was the exhaustion. The anxiety. The fear that if I ever stopped, everything I was trying to hold together, or hide, would fall apart.
We don’t just teach kids to work hard. We teach them that their worth is how hard they work. That productivity is morality. That stillness is laziness. That asking for help is failure.
This is how grit becomes a gateway to hustle culture:
It starts with gold stars and perfect attendance.
It becomes unpaid overtime, ignored boundaries, and identity collapse.
It convinces us that busyness is a badge of honor, that burnout is a rite of passage, and that achievement is the only language worth speaking.
Now, as a new parent, I’m already noticing how easy it is to project expectations, even before my child can talk. I catch myself thinking ahead to milestones, to accomplishments, to how I’ll support them through challenges. And I have to pause. Not to take pride in what they do, but to root myself in who they are becoming.
I want them to know, from the very beginning, that their value isn’t in how hard they try to fit in. It’s in who they are—fully, even when they need rest.
I wasn’t just taught how to succeed. I was trained to over-function. To prove my value by how much I could endure.
That didn’t make me successful. It made me exhausted.
What Kids Deserve Instead
I don’t want to raise a child who’s praised for suffering well. I want to raise a child who knows their needs are valid. That strength doesn’t mean silence.
Kids don’t need to be taught how to endure pain. They already know. Many of them wake up in it.
What they need is space to rest. Permission to say no. Adults who adapt to the environment instead of demanding more effort.
Challenge isn’t the problem. In fact, real growth requires it. Complex thinking, creative problem-solving, learning from failure—those are the muscles we want kids to build. But those muscles don’t grow from punishment or pressure alone. They grow with feedback, reflection, and support.
The issue is how we frame and facilitate challenges. Too often, we disguise cruelty as character-building: asking students to endure without clarity, fail without feedback, and persist in silence rather than be curious out loud.
What they need isn’t ease. It’s the safety and encouragement to take intellectual risks, to get it wrong, and still feel like they belong. That kind of learning takes nuance, reflection, and the courage to keep going. Not because they were forced to—but because someone believed they could.
They need healing-centered spaces, not trauma-informed buzzwords. They need people who believe them the first time.
In the classroom, I learned the same lesson: praising grit doesn’t create strong students. It creates silent ones — students who believe effort alone should equal learning, because that’s what we’ve taught them to value. Not growth. Not feedback. Just endurance.
We say we want to raise “resilient” kids, but resilience isn’t the goal.Safety is. Joy is. Agency is.
Students are not empty vessels. They bring brilliance, barriers, and experience. Our job is not to make them tougher. It’s to build a world where toughness isn’t the only way to survive.
Baldwin said:
“The obligation of anyone who thinks of himself as responsible is to examine society and try to change it — and to fight it, at no matter what risk.”
That obligation extends to us—not to make kids tougher, but to make the world more just.
What to Do Instead of Saying “Try Harder”
Here’s what I try to do now—as a parent, as a teacher, as someone still unlearning:
Listen when a kid says they’re tired, frustrated, or done. That’s not a weakness. That’s honesty.
Adapt the system, not the child. If your classroom or home requires silence to succeed, it’s not working.
Stop rewarding suffering. Praise problem-solving (especially when it includes failure), curiosity, rest, and boundary-setting.
Challenge hustle culture early. Help kids understand that their value isn’t tied to how much they produce.
Be the adult who changes. Don’t make your growth their burden—and maybe stop over-programming every second of their day.
Grit doesn’t make a system just. It makes oppression easier to ignore—and we dress it up as character.
Hustle culture doesn’t build integrity. It just wears people down.
If we are to take Baldwin’s charge seriously, then education, and parenting, must not teach kids to endure injustice.
It must teach them to name it, resist it, and transform it.
It’s Aidan again!
I hope you all enjoyed this piece as much as I did, and I hope it reminded you of the need for softness sometimes. Thank you all for being a welcoming audience to Matt as we begin to build out the community around Gay Buffet in a way that is really exciting to me! If you want more of Matt’s writing, make sure you subscribe below and stay tuned for a follow-up Q&A with Matt and myself about parenthood, Queerness, and so much more coming soon!
WOW. Just wow. I say adults need this as much as kids, but THANK YOU for this. I am sharing with someone whose kids I support - she needs to read this as much as I did.
Sharp thoughts there!
I believe grit is a powerful force – not because it demands passive acceptance, but because it enables resilience and growth.
Even as the world keeps reshuffling the cards while we play, grit allows us to remain standing.
And as Baldwin says, with growth comes perspective – and from that, the power to challenge and transform.
Without the ability to stay grounded through life’s shifting moods, less insight emerges, and less transformation follows.