I Chose A Democratic Parenting Style Because Of My Childhood In Iran And My Life In The U.S.

Just as I was starting kindergarten, women of Iran lost their right to wear what they wanted. In a matter of weeks, freedom of thought and lifestyle choices fell under relentless scrutiny by the newly minted morality police and became targets of persecution. When children innocently recounted their dinner conversation at school, their parents were arrested for having opinions at odds with the regime's ideology. I quickly learned when to be subversive and when to keep my opinions to myself and obey the authority as if my life depended on it — which, at times, it truly did.

When I moved to the United States as a teenager, the contrast of being without all the restrictions was quite a revelation. Life was far from perfect, but no one was controlling the minutiae of my life. As I grew into an adult, though, I realized that while children are taught about democracy at schools, they rarely practice it in the classroom, where the teacher makes nearly all the decisions. And when young adults venture into the work world, the employer makes all the rules with little wiggle room for democratic discourse.

Most people in the U.S. end up operating under a version of dictatorship in classrooms and workplaces, with some engaging in democracy only once every four years at the voting booth. Plus, right now, compromised democracies in the U.S. and around the world face existential threats.

Given my childhood in Iran and my observations in the U.S., my parenting style follows a more democratic approach. Except for safety, all family rules and guidelines can be challenged. The door to a family debate is always open, and if our child presents a compelling argument to adjust a rule or comes up with a new one, we implement those changes.

As our son grew, his father and I recognized that structure is paramount for a functional democracy. Democratic parenting requires family agreements — a constitution of sorts — with clear limits and consequences developed with the child's input. Without checks and balances, the fledgling democracy might become unstable, children might become self-centered and entitled, and later on, they may struggle to build and maintain healthy relationships.

So, once our son turned 5 and could confidently read and write, we established adaptable family agreements and devised three key strategies to ensure our democracy ran smoothly.

Regular Family Meetings

Once a week or so, we hold a family meeting to discuss how we're doing as a society. To make them more impactful, we have certain rituals. We light a candle, sound a bell, and use a ceremonial object — drawing inspiration from the Indigenous Talking Stick — to ensure everyone has a chance to speak without interruption. It's worth noting that the Haudenosaunee Confederacy (often referred to as the Iroquois Confederacy or the Five Nations) is the first known participatory democracy in what is now the U.S. and Canada.

In our meetings, we begin by watering flowers, a practice I learned during my time with Thich Nhat Hanh's Plum Blossom Sangha meditation group. It involves verbalizing what we adore and appreciate about each other. This nourishing opening sets the tone for the meeting and is especially fruitful during times of miscommunication and hardship.

We then check in individually, sharing what's going on in our lives. This gives us insight into each other's emotional state, fostering greater compassion and intimacy. Each family member also shares their view on our collective strengths, personal contributions, and how to tackle shortcomings.

We conclude with a support request to the family, then close the meeting by sounding the bell and sharing a group hug.

For families with multiple children, family meetings create opportunities for advocating personal viewpoints, voting, and shared decision-making. If one child is more reserved and another more outspoken, these gatherings help ensure balanced participation so everyone feels heard and valued. Parents can also use veto power sparingly.

Everyone Makes Their Own Checklists

I once worked with a disaster relief pilot who flew perilous missions in war zones. Before every takeoff, he meticulously checked off a line-by-line register to ensure every potential life-saving task had been completed, none forgotten or skipped.

Taking a page from my friend's book, we began keeping a morning checklist before leaving for school and work. This improved our previous routine of running around like headless chickens, but there were glitches: My husband and I spent a chunk of the morning asking our child to complete his checklist while he zoned out and stalled. We still had stressful and inefficient mornings, and sometimes, we ran late.

At the next family meeting, we agreed that everyone would manage their own checklists. We set a daily alarm for task completion and drafted a contract outlining the consequences of missing the deadline.

Accountability Through Contracts

Whether due to forgetfulness or not taking promises seriously, our child sometimes didn't follow through on checklists. At one of the early family meetings, we came up with the idea of writing and signing contracts that stated his responsibilities. He drafted the terms himself, including consequences for failing to meet them. Surprisingly, he devised consequences that felt fair yet were impactful enough to prevent him from defaulting on the contract.

Although these strategies have proven to be both uplifting and effective, there are challenges. Like any relationship, we face communication breakdowns and sometimes need to call emergency meetings to address issues. We don't have to worry about our son obeying in advance during tyrannical rules because he's become adept at questioning authority, debating, and proposing alternatives that align with his sense of agency and autonomy. However, as you can imagine, this can also be exhausting at times.

There is no foolproof parenting style, and living in a democratic family takes time and energy. It requires honing communication skills and developing flexibility to compromise. Still, even with all the challenges, it's a rewarding approach. Children grow up feeling a sense of agency, accountability, and dignity. My favorite part is that, despite everyone's busy schedules, we carve out uninterrupted time each week to connect, appreciate one another, and strengthen our family bond.

Ari Honarvar is the founder of Rumi with a View, dedicated to building bridges between the arts, social justice, and well-being. She dances with refugees and facilitates Resilience through Joy workshops for healthcare workers and social justice advocates on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border. Her words have been featured in The Guardian, The Washington Post, Teen Vogue, and elsewhere. Ari is the author of the critically acclaimed novel A Girl Called Rumi and the bestselling oracle deck, Rumi’s Gift.