What Theo Knew: Raising Children Who See the Best in Others
By Drew Hertz, MD, Zest Pediatric Network President and Co-founder
I want to tell you about two books — one that alarmed me deeply, and one that moved me to tears. Together, they have reshaped how I think about what we owe our children.
The first is Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation. I wrote about it at length in a prior blog — I encourage you to read it if you haven’t. Haidt’s data is sobering: dramatic rises in anxiety, depression, and self-harm among adolescents, largely tracking the arrival of the smartphone and social media. The core wound he identifies is this: social media trains children to compare themselves to others, to perform for an audience, and to judge. It is, at its worst, a culture of critique. Children immersed in it are not learning to seek the good in the people around them. They are learning to find the flaws.
There is real cause for encouragement. Since Haidt’s book, schools and communities across the country — and around the world — have moved decisively, requiring students to be phone-free during the school day. Legislatures are acting. Awareness is growing. This is meaningful progress, and it reflects the kind of community-level response Haidt called for. But structural solutions protect the space. They do not fill it. Parents still have an essential role to play: delaying their children’s access to social media, staying engaged with how and when devices enter their children’s lives, and — perhaps most importantly — intentionally replacing what screens have crowded out. That last part is what brought me to the second book.
The second book is Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. I do not say this lightly: it is one of the most beautiful and meaningful novels I have read in years. It brought me to tears more than once. Truly.
The story is quiet and deceptively simple. An elderly man named Theo arrives in a small Georgia town and discovers 92 pencil portraits hanging in a local coffee shop. He resolves to purchase them one by one and return each portrait to the person depicted — what he calls a “bestowal.” In exchange, he asks only for the person’s story. He listens. He sees. And in each encounter, he reflects back to that person the gift he finds in them — telling them, gently and with complete conviction, that they are “capable of saintliness.” Lives are changed. Not through grand gestures, but through the radical act of being truly seen.
Theo defines good this way: “For anything to be good, truly good, there must be love in it.” He is not a pediatrician. He is not a parent. But he is, perhaps, the finest model I have encountered in fiction for a posture I believe we can — and must — teach our children.
The Vision: Raising Children Who Bestow
What if we raised children with Theo’s gift? Not children who scroll through a feed looking for what is wrong with the world — but children who walk into a room asking, even unconsciously, what is remarkable about this person? Children who notice the quiet kindness of a classmate, the effort behind a friend’s drawing, the patience of a grandparent. Children who name it out loud.
This is not naïve optimism. It is a learnable skill — one that research consistently links to stronger empathy, more meaningful relationships, and greater resilience. It is also, in the current cultural moment, an act of quiet resistance.
How to Teach It: At Every Age
For Young Children (Ages 3–7)
Young children are natural noticers — they just need a prompt. At bedtime or dinner, try a simple daily question: “What is something kind you saw someone do today?” Not something kind done for them — something kind they witnessed in someone else. Model it yourself. Tell them what you noticed today about a colleague, a neighbor, a stranger. You are teaching them where to look.
For Middle Childhood (Ages 8–12)
Children this age are beginning to form real social awareness — and real social hierarchies. This is the moment to introduce the concept of a “gift statement.” Challenge your child to identify one person in their life — a friend, a classmate, even someone they find difficult — and name one genuine gift that person carries. Then, if they are willing, to say it to them. Directly. This is harder than it sounds. That difficulty is the lesson.
For Tweens and Teens (Ages 13+)
Teenagers are swimming in comparison culture. Counter it directly. Ask your teen: “Who in your life do you think goes unnoticed? What would you say to them if you weren’t worried about how it sounded?” You can also share Theo of Golden with an older teen — it is exactly the kind of story that lands differently when you are old enough to have felt invisible yourself.
For Every Family
At your next family dinner, try a “bestowal round”: each person names one gift they see in another person at the table. Not a compliment — a gift. Something specific and true. Something that person might not even see in themselves. Watch what happens to the room.
The Ask
At the end of Theo of Golden, the author issues a quiet challenge: do one act of kindness in the next month, and tell not a soul. Register what your heart does.
I offer a version of that challenge here. This week, find the gift in someone your child knows — and help your child say it to them. Not over text. In person, looking them in the eye.
The phone bans are a start. The awareness is growing. But the deeper work — raising children who seek the good in others, who name it, who give it back — that happens at the dinner table, at bedtime, in the small moments that don’t make headlines. That work is yours. And it may be one of the most important things you do.
Thoughts on this? As always, email me. Lets discuss. Drew.Hertz@ZestPeds.com.