Lately, I’ve noticed what seems to be an intensified backlash against the term “gentle parenting”, particularly within Afro-Caribbean communities and it has been landing on my timelines across social media spaces. The term is often mocked, dismissed, or framed as a soft, permissive approach that produces “spoilt” or “undisciplined” children. 



I want to share some reflections, not to condemn, but to invite a more nuanced conversation. Because language matters. Context matters. And so does how we understand children. 

What Is Gentle Parenting, Really? 

At its core, gentle parenting is not about being passive, permissive, or boundary-less. It is not about letting children “run the show.” And it certainly is not about abandoning structure, guidance, or accountability. 



If I were to simplify it for my community, I would say this: 

Gentle parenting prioritises response over reaction. 

It asks us, as the safe adults in a child’s life, to pause before reacting in ways that: 



• further dysregulate a child 
• make them feel physically or emotionally unsafe 
• shut them down rather than help them understand what is happening inside them 

This does not mean the absence of boundaries. In fact, boundaries are essential. What it rejects is the idea that fear, shame, or harm are necessary tools for learning. 

We can be firm without being frightening.
We can be boundaried without being abusive.
We can correct behaviour without damaging connection. 

Why the Word “Gentle” Causes Such a Reaction. 

Part of the resistance, I believe, lies in how the word gentle is culturally interpreted. 



Within many of our communities, gentleness has historically been associated with weakness, vulnerability, or a lack of authority. Strength has often been equated with control, dominance, or emotional hardness, often because survival demanded it. 

So, when people hear “gentle parenting,” they don’t hear attuned, regulated, and intentional.
They hear pushovers. 

This is where language becomes crucial. Concepts don’t always translate cleanly across cultural and historical contexts, and when they don’t, misunderstanding follows. 

“But We Turned Out Alright…” 

One of the most common responses I see is: 

“We weren’t gentle parented, and we turned out alright.” 



I want to approach this gently myself, because survival and success are not the same as absence of harm. 

The fact that someone is functioning, achieving, or parenting does not mean their childhood experiences had no impact. Many adults carry beliefs, coping strategies, emotional patterns, and relational wounds that are deeply rooted in early experiences, even if they’ve never been named as such. 

Research consistently tells us that childhood experiences, both positive and adverse, significantly shape development, emotional regulation, attachment, and later parenting practices. So, it’s worth asking: If childhood experiences influence who we become, why would they not influence how we parent? 

The absence of acknowledgment of harm does not make the harm less impactful. It often just means we’ve normalised it. 

Maybe the Issue Isn’t the Practice, It’s the Name 

Here’s where I land. 

My message to my people is not to get stuck on the label “gentle parenting.” Names are useful, but they’re not sacred. 

If we must name it, perhaps something like: 

Responsive and Reflective Parenting 



Because that’s what this approach is really about. 

• Responsive, recognising that behaviour is communication, especially for children who are still developing the language and emotional capacity to express their needs clearly. 
• Reflective, understanding that no parent is perfect, and when we get it wrong (because we will), we reflect rather than drown in shame. We learn, repair, and do better next time. 

This approach doesn’t demand perfection. It demands intentionality. 

My Closing Thoughts 

These reflections are shared to enlighten, not to condemn. Parenting happens within systems, culture, history, stress, trauma, economics, and none of us are doing this in a vacuum. 

We learn by sharing.
We grow by listening.
And we strengthen community by allowing space for reflection, not ridicule. 



I welcome thoughts, dialogue, and respectful challenge, because that, too, is part of being responsive and reflective.