by Rishi Raghunathan, Faculty, gcLi; Head of Upper School at The Wellington School in Columbus, Ohio
What do young people want? The answer, in my experience, is both simple and profound:
- They want to be trusted to make good choices.
- They want to contribute and be useful.
- They want to know that the adults in their lives believe in their potential and, most importantly, have their backs when challenges arise.
Yet, in today’s world, this trust is often in short supply, leaving young people anxious, demoralized, and disconnected from the promise of their own futures.
The roots of this mistrust are complex. In his work, Jonathan Haidt highlights the role of social media and the increasingly fragile environment in which teenagers grow up. His critique of technology’s impact on anxiety resonates deeply with many of us in education. However, there is another layer—one that is just as urgent but often overlooked: autonomy, or rather, the lack of it.
How often do we, as educators and leaders, tell students they are “the future” while simultaneously making decisions that deny them a meaningful stake in shaping it? How can we prepare them to lead if we don’t trust them to try, fail, and grow now?
Autonomy as the Foundation of Leadership
Autonomy is not the absence of structure or accountability; it is the presence of trust and purpose. It is the opportunity to make choices, take risks, and learn from mistakes in a safe and supportive environment. Schools, as microcosms of society, have a unique responsibility to model this for students.
Too often, however, schools prioritize compliance over independence. We enforce dress codes, control cell phone use, and rigidly dictate what students learn and how they spend their time. These measures, while well-intentioned, send a subtle but powerful message: we don’t trust you. This erosion of trust undermines students’ confidence and stifles their growth.
Research consistently shows that autonomy-supportive environments foster better outcomes for students. David Brooks’ recent article on meritocracy highlights the importance of “non-cognitive” skills—traits like curiosity, resilience, and collaboration—that are cultivated through experiences of autonomy. For instance, project-based learning allows students to work on real-world problems, collaborate with peers, and navigate failure as part of the creative process. These experiences teach students not just how to think but how to lead, adapt, and persevere.
The Courage to Trust
Trusting students is not easy. It requires courage, patience, and a willingness to embrace imperfection. But it is also transformative. When we trust students, we send a powerful message: “You are capable. You are valued. You have something meaningful to contribute.” This trust cultivates confidence grounded in competence and fosters a sense of belonging that is vital for their growth as leaders.
Consider the dynamics of failure. Failure is often viewed as a source of shame rather than a stepping stone to growth. Yet, when framed constructively, failure becomes one of the most powerful teachers. Students need permission to fail—not recklessly, but constructively. They need spaces where they can experiment, stumble, and recover with the guidance of mentors who believe in their potential. This is how resilience is built.
A Partnership for the Future
Young people are not just passive recipients of our decisions; they are partners in shaping the world we all share. Yet, too often, they are excluded from meaningful conversations about the future. This dismissal fuels their anxiety and reinforces their sense of helplessness in the face of global challenges. Climate change, political dysfunction, social inequality—these are the issues they will inherit. How are we preparing them to tackle these challenges if we don’t give them a seat at the table now?
Partnership begins with listening. It begins with creating spaces where students feel heard, seen, and valued. It begins with trusting their instincts and ideas, even when they differ from our own. When students know their voices matter, they rise to the occasion. They become not just learners but contributors—to their schools, their communities, and the world at large.
Lessons from Leadership
In my own journey as an educator, I have been consistently humbled and inspired by the capacity of young people to lead when given the chance. I have seen students take on roles as mentors, innovators, and advocates, bringing fresh perspectives and creative solutions to complex problems.
One of the most important lessons I have learned is that leadership is not about control; it is about connection. It is about co-creating a vision for the future with those you lead. As educators, our role is not to dictate or micromanage but to guide and support. It is to model the vulnerability, empathy, and courage we wish to see in our students. Leadership, after all, is as much about who you are as it is about what you do.
Conclusion: Trust as a Radical Act
Trusting students is a radical act in a world that often underestimates them. It requires us to let go of our fears and embrace their potential. It challenges us to see them not as vessels of our anxieties but as partners in hope, resilience, and change.
As we navigate the complexities of modern education, let us remember that the greatest gift we can give young people is not a set of answers but the freedom to ask their own questions. Let us give them the tools to build, the courage to fail, and the trust to lead. The future is not something we prepare them for; it is something we co-create with them. And it starts now.
Links:
“Why Some Researchers Think I’m Wrong About Social Media and Mental Illness” (Jonathan Haidt, After Babel)
“Giving Kids Some Autonomy Has Some Surprising Results” (Jenny Anderson & Rebecca Winthrop, The New York Times)
“How the Ivy League Broke America” (David Brooks, The Atlantic)
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Rishikesh Raghunathan is a storyteller, a community builder, and a firm believer that schools are at their best when they are built on trust, purpose, and human connection. With over two decades in independent schools, he has shaped cultures where students and teachers don’t just succeed, they thrive. As Head of Upper School at The Wellington School and faculty at the Gardner Carney Leadership Institute, he leads with curiosity, empathy, and the conviction that leadership is not about control. It is about service. Whether coaching faculty, guiding students, or rethinking what school can be, he is always working toward the same goal: making school a place where people feel seen, valued, and inspired to do their best work.