The Happy Love Triangle

Upbringing is never a private matter. It is always relational, and almost always triangular: parents, school, and media.

This triangle exists whether we are aware of it or not. A child grows up between home, institutions, and the content they consume. The question is not whether this relationship exists, but whether we participate in it consciously.

I call it a love triangle because it cannot function without respect. And respect may be the most mature form of love. It is the decision to acknowledge another person’s competence and good intention, even when we do not fully agree.

Today, many parents live in a state of alertness. Information is everywhere, opinions are loud, and fear spreads quickly. In such a climate, it is easy to adopt a defensive stance toward schools, teachers, or the system itself. But a defensive stance rarely produces a stable child.

A close friend of mine, a primary school teacher, once shared a situation that many would recognize. Students were setting off firecrackers during a school break. He addressed the behavior, explained the consequences, and informed the parents. A few days later, he received a long email from a mother claiming he had a personal bias against her son. Rather than engaging in the process and sharing responsibility, she chose to defend her child from the system.

In moments like this, a child learns a powerful lesson: responsibility can be avoided if the defense is loud enough.

I have also witnessed how far distrust can go. An educator in my daughter’s kindergarten group, someone respected and appreciated by both children and parents, was physically attacked by a father. The consequences were serious and long-lasting. Incidents like these are not isolated events; they reflect a broader erosion of trust.

Teachers and educators are not extensions of parental authority, but they are not adversaries either. They are professionals working within a system, just as parents operate within their own roles. When a parent reacts solely from a protective impulse, without trust in the broader process, the child is placed between two authorities and quickly learns how to use that tension to their advantage.

When a parent says, “I trust the process. If there is a problem, we will address it together,” the triangle stabilizes. The child then experiences coherence among the adults around them.

The third corner of the triangle—media and the digital world—adds further complexity. Content today shapes children as powerfully as any adult. The question is not whether the internet participates in upbringing, but whether we are present in that participation.

The love triangle is not a romantic metaphor; it is a structure. A structure that requires respect, trust, communication, and personal responsibility. Without these elements, each party fights for authority. With them, authority becomes a shared space for growth.

Upbringing is not a competition. It is coordination. And perhaps this is the most demanding task of parenthood: not to shield a child from the world, but to introduce them into a world where adults know how to cooperate.