Let Kids Lead:

The Case for Child-Led Healing, Learning, and Leadership

Before they have words for it, before we even think they are ready, children begin to lead.

They guide us through play, through imagination, through the ways they ask for connection. When we pay attention, we begin to see the quiet brilliance in how they move through the world. What follows is often unexpected, and deeply wise.

My baby, just over a year old, initiates a game of peekaboo, her face bursting into a smile when I respond with exaggerated surprise. She presses my nose with a gleeful grin, waiting for the predictable “beep” she loves. She is discovering that she can begin something. She is learning that her actions have power. She is internalizing that joy is something we can create together. These small moments are more than play – they are her first experiences of agency, of connection, of being heard. She reaches out in the most holy of ways – with wonder.

Each summer, I teach Zumba at an early childhood camp. The energy is loud, colorful, and full of delight. On the first day this year, during our “Wheels on the Bus” freeze dance, the new class of 2s, none of whom had ever done Zumba before, did something entirely unexpected. Instead of following the movements on the rug, they began pulling chairs together to build a bus. They climbed aboard their makeshift seats and acted out the song with full-body joy. Their counselors stepped in to redirect them, since this was not the “right” way to do Zumba, after all. I paused them gently. “What a great idea,” I said. “Let’s ride the bus!” So we did – and they did their dance moves while riding their bus. That session came alive - it became engaged, connected, and creative. They were not distracted, they were innovating. The invitation to lead drew them deeper in.

It is tempting for us as adults to step in, to shape the moment before it has time to take form. Yet when we hold back and allow space, we often discover that children have it within them to take the lead, and shape the moment themselves. Sometimes this instinct to lead gets buried under rules, under expectations, and under systems that prioritize compliance over creativity.

I have seen this in counseling too.

A girl came into my office angry, shut down, constantly in trouble at school. She was smart, sharp, and deeply sensitive – yet everything around her seemed to tell her to hide that. Or to explode it. Or to shrink. Together we began to explore what she was really feeling underneath it all, what she longed for, what she feared, what made her feel strong. She realized that what she was missing - what she was needing - was to be seen by the people around her, her grownups and her friends. She wanted to be heard, understood, appreciated.

With time and space, she began to name her needs, and the emotions that lie beneath them. With this new language, she felt empowered to start conversations with the adults in her life. She stopped waiting for someone to notice what was wrong underneath the tumult, and began creating space, in calm, for what could be right. Her healing began the moment she trusted herself enough to use the tools and language we had workshopped together.

This is the heart of our work – as parents, educators, and guides. It’s not just about helping kids get through hard things, it’s about offering the space and language for them to name their own stories. It is in that space where they begin to rewrite the “I can’t” narratives into something truer: I can. I will. I already have.

Stepping back can feel vulnerable, even counterintuitive. Adults often worry about letting kids lead – what if they fail? What if they get it wrong? What if they don’t know what they are doing? We, as adults, often tap into our own old wounds in these moments - we remember the feeling of failure, and we want to prevent our children from suffering. In our haste to fix, we forget that growth unfolds when we create the space to trust. Learning, healing, and leadership can happen when, after offering guidance, we step back a bit and let them figure it out.

These moments do not end in early childhood. I see them continue, powerfully, in the teenagers I work with each week. In our youth community model, our teen leaders are not just helpers - they are creators, mentors, and designers of meaningful spaces. Our intensive training each year gives them reflection, structure, language, and permission to lead with heart.

One middle school aged youth leader transformed a classroom that had long felt chaotic - and struggled each week with organized tefilah (prayer) - into one of the most joyful, spiritually alive tefilah groups on our youth floor. She did it by noticing. She watched what the kids needed - what they are asking for underneath the chaos - and designed something that spoke to them – a space of prayer and joy that now lives in her hands. She continues to lead there, and teaches younger youth leaders how to create spaces with the same care and intention.

Another group of teen leaders noticed a young boy who stood off to the side each week, unsure of where he belonged. They could have left it alone, and let him sit in the corner until pickup time. Instead, they rearranged the chairs. They invited him into their game. They kept checking in, until one day, he simply belonged.

These are the moments that show what happens when children take the lead – not just in play, or ritual, but in shaping the spaces they inhabit. They become not just participants, but authors. Not just helpers, but healers.

Doing this work well also means we do our own. The parts of us that weren’t trusted, or seen, or told we mattered – those younger versions still live inside us. When we turn toward them with compassion, we soften. We interrupt old patterns. We pause before correcting. We say, “What a great idea” instead of, “That is not how we do it.”

The more we heal, the more we trust. The more we trust, the more we empower. The more we empower, the more they rise.

Leadership doesn’t always look like a big speech or a perfect project. Sometimes it looks like a circle of rearranged chairs. A Zumba bus made of tiny hands and tiny chairs. A child saying quietly, “Can I tell you what I need?”

These moments do not require perfection. They require presence. They require listening. They require trust. Letting kids lead means showing up differently - so they can step forward.

This work is soulful, and it is also deeply practical. Small choices create lasting change. Here are some ways to begin:

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Let Kids Lead: 6 Small Shifts that Make a Big Difference

1. Say yes to their ideas—especially the unexpected ones.
   When a child offers a new way to play, build, or connect, respond with curiosity. “What a great idea” opens more than a game - it opens agency.

2. Pause before correcting.
   Ask yourself: is this a safety issue, or just a new way of doing something? Allowing experimentation fosters problem-solving and confidence.

3. Give language for emotions and needs.
   Help kids notice what they are feeling, and offer words to describe it. Over time, they will begin to speak for themselves. Help them notice what their body looks like, feels like, and sounds like when they express different emotions.

   1. “I see your face is very scrunched up and your shoulders are near your ears! Are you feeling frustrated by something"?”

4. Create roles that match their strengths.
   Whether in the classroom or at home, invite children to take on real responsibilities that make a difference to others.

5. Trust their rhythm.
   Some children lead with volume and movement. Others lead with stillness and observation. Notice the leadership style already within them, and invite them to lead.

6. Do your own inner listening.
   When you feel the urge to control, ask: what does my younger self wish someone had said to me? Let that softness guide your next move.