There was a pin drop silence at the dining table.
Fourteen-year-old Adam sat with his head bowed down, his arms crossed; a few silent tears fell onto the table.
In front of him lay a maths test paper, the red “B” circled at the top looking less like a grade and more like a sentence.
Although he had done relatively well, he was crying because in his mind, he hadn’t been perfect.
He felt brittle and useless, burdened by the fear that he had disappointed his teachers and family.
His mother, Siti, didn’t rush to fix it.
She didn’t call the teacher to complain or scold him for not studying harder.
Instead, she sat beside him and placed a warm hand on his trembling back.
“It’s okay to feel like the storm is too strong, Adam,” she whispered.
“But remember, the tree doesn’t survive the storm because it is hard.
“It survives because its roots are deep.”
In that quiet moment, Siti began the most important work of parenthood: cultivating resilience.
The tree of resilience
To understand what Adam needs, we must view resilience not as a shield that blocks pain, but as a tree:
These are the connections Adam has with his family, friends and community.
Deep roots keep the tree grounded when the “winds” of adversity blow hard.
This is Adam’s inner strength.
It needs to be flexible and able to sway with the wind without breaking.
These are the coping mechanisms and problem-solving skills he learns.
They reach for the sunlight of hope even when the sky is dark.
These fallen leaves (failures) decompose to become fertiliser (growth/self-esteem) for the tree to grow further.
At times, trees need pruning to encourage new growth.
Similarly, adults need to spot children and teens who are struggling and drifting away in life.
Identifying them early and guiding (pruning) them, will ensure resiliency and the ability to flourish with a healthier mindset.
Why resilience matters
Adam’s story is not unique.
In Malaysia, children face specific pressures (e.g. exams and social expectations) that can turn into “toxic stress”, which can lead to prolonged adversity without the buffer of supportive adults.
This stress can disrupt the very architecture of a developing brain, leading to lifelong health and cognitive issues.
If Adam is left to weather this storm alone, the stress becomes toxic.
But with Siti’s support, it becomes a growth opportunity.
As the old saying goes: “It is far easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”
Resilience in children and teens is the capacity to adapt, recover and grow after stress, setbacks or trauma, while maintaining or regaining healthy emotional, social and academic functioning.
It shows up less as “never struggling”, and more as how they think, feel and behave during and after difficulties.
What does this look like for Adam?
Eventually, Adam lifts his head.
He realises that one “B” is temporary and solvable, not a permanent failure of his character.
He can say to Siti: “I feel disappointed and scared”, rather than shouting or shutting down.
He regulates his emotions healthily.
Instead of staring at the test paper, he decides to go for a run to clear his head.
This is active coping in action.
Some fail to understand that resilience does not mean never feeling distress or coping alone.
Even highly resilient youth can experience anxiety, sadness or behavioural adversity.
Resilience is strongly associated with many external factors, such as family support, community safety, and even access to healthcare.
How family can help
Siti plays the role of the gardener.
She knows she cannot stop the wind, but she can nourish the soil.
Overprotection is like overwatering the tree – it causes harm to the roots.
If Siti hid the test away or argued for a higher grade, she would be denying Adam the chance to learn how to cope with disappointment.
Later, when Adam complains about a disagreement with a friend, Siti resists the urge to fix it.
Instead, she listens and asks: “What do you think is the best way to handle this?”
She coaches him to solve his own problems.
Both parents and teachers can play this role effectively.
Driving to school the next day, their car gets a flat tire.
Instead of getting angry and anxious, Siti says: “I’m upset the car is damaged, but at least we are safe.”
Her optimism teaches Adam’s brain to find the silver lining in any problem.
School and community roles
A tree cannot grow alone; it needs a forest.
Science has discovered that roots communicate via chemical substances.
Roots send distress signals about pests or drought, creating a form of natural collective defence and a resource-balancing environment.
Similarly, parents, schools and the community must aspire to support a child.
Adam finds strength outside the home too.
His badminton coach doesn’t just care about winning; he cares about effort.
His participation in neighbourhood gotong-royong activities gives him a sense of purpose beyond his grades, building a support network that extends his “roots” further.
Schools and communities can provide the safe space where children like Adam can fail without being labelled as failures and are pulled up to achieve greater heights.
Ironically, school bullying is a critical test of resilience for Malaysian children and teens.
It attacks their sense of safety, belonging and self-worth, especially as they spend most of their day in school.
While legislation like the Anti-Bully Bill 2025 – passed last December (2025) – is a crucial first step, schools must create safe spaces daily for all children.
What breaks self-esteem?
Even a strong tree can struggle if the air around it is toxic.
Later that night, Adam lies in bed, the glow of his smartphone illuminating his face.
He scrolls through social media, seeing photos of friends who seem to have perfect lives and perfect grades.
This “filtered reality” makes him feel inadequate.
Constant comparison is a major breaker of self-esteem for modern teens.
If Adam feels that he cannot talk to anyone about this, the “toxic stress” returns and a vicious cycle begins.
Many children like Adam face different battles in school.
Sometimes teachers making jokes about a child’s eating habits or their body size (even though it’s not intended to put the child down) can cause the child to develop low self-esteem.
To help Adam keep his branches reaching for the light, Siti introduces a simple nightly ritual called “Three Good Things”.
Before sleep, she asks Adam to write down three good things that happened that day.
It could be the delicious nasi lemak he had for breakfast, or a funny joke a friend told.
Research shows that this simple habit significantly increases happiness and reduces depression.
She also reminds him that “struggle is a normal part of existence”.
Understanding this stops Adam from asking “Why me?”, and helps him focus on “How do I handle this?” instead.
Sticking to a regular dinner-and-sleep schedule also helps gives Adam a sense of control and stability when the rest of his world feels chaotic.
In essence, the idea is to connect before we correct.
We should encourage problem-solving and not rescuing.
We should allow manageable challenges (tolerable stress) while providing emotional support.
We should teach our teens to reframe setbacks while building a growth mindset.
In our day-to-day context, parents can maintain respect and hierarchy (“anak kena hormat ibu bapa”), while still inviting opinions (“mak nak dengar pandangan kamu dulu”) to support responsible decision-making.
As Adam drifts off to sleep, the math test in his bag remain unchanged.
The grade is still a “B”.
But Adam has changed.
His roots are a little deeper and his trunk a little stronger, ready for whatever weather tomorrow may bring.
The tree will continue to grow.
Dr Naveen Nair Gangadaran is a paediatrician at Hospital Tuanku Ja’afar, Seremban, and Prof Dr Thiyagar Nadarajaw is a consultant paediatrician and AIMST University Faculty of Medicine dean. For more information, email starhealth@thestar.com.my. The information provided is for educational and communication purposes only, and should not be considered as medical advice. The Star does not give any warranty on accuracy, completeness, functionality, usefulness or other assurances as to the content appearing in this article. The Star disclaims all responsibility for any losses, damage to property or personal injury suffered directly or indirectly from reliance on such information.
