The Mother of a 16-Year-Old Called Me, very determined:
“I want you to have a serious talk with my son about his teeth! He doesn’t take care of them at all.”
I agreed to the meeting, but I knew from the start this wouldn’t be a regular consultation — it would be a session of dental coaching — a kind of gentle guidance about oral health, in a language that would resonate with his age and interests.
“A learning process begins with questions, not answers.”
British professor Guy Claxton (co-creator of the Building Learning Power concept) reminds us of this in The Learning Power Approach.
As an orthodontist, I’ve often felt a kind of hesitation, even tightness in my chest, when a teenager entered my office.
They were brought in by their parents, but in truth, they’d rather be anywhere else.
Unless they were in acute pain or had a major self-image concern, they didn’t want to see the doctor.
But now, in the new format of my work — more aligned with my mission — things are changing.
The child is no longer placed in the chair to be “fixed,” “aligned,” or “repaired” with a device.
Instead, they listen, understand, question, draw conclusions, and make conscious decisions with the help of adult guidance.
Even if, in the back of the parent’s mind, one silent question still lingers:
“Did she convince him to brush his teeth twice a day?”
Since Alexia entered my life — 18 and a half years ago — I’ve learned firsthand, not from books, that learning is much more an act of inquiry than a delivery of answers or personal convictions.
Kids start asking questions very early:
-“What’s that?”
-“What does this do?”
-“Why? Why?”
-“Where does the sun go at night?”
-“Who made the world?”
Clear signs of an active, curious mind trying to make sense of things.
At the same time, I realized that my role isn’t to instruct, but to spark curiosity.
Because only when questions arise, does the genuine need to know follow.
Sometimes I’ve had the patience to let the questions come. Other times, I rushed and wasmet with resistance.
A child’s intention, attention, or interest is earned — through connection and trust.
“Trained” at home, I applied what I already knew would work with this young man as well.
He told me right away he came to get his mom off his back, but that he didn’t need my help.
So instead of telling him what to do, I started asking him:
– What excites you these days?
– What are your current priorities?
– How do you feel about your teeth?
– What’s your take on daily hygiene?
– How do your friends think about teeth and smiles?
– How do you imagine your teeth fit into the bigger picture of your health?
– If you were to create your own routine that made sense to you, what would it look like?
– Do you think dental hygiene matters for the person you want to become?
– Have you ever had toothaches or other issues?
– How did you deal with them?
– How would you like your teeth to look when you turn 20?
I connected with his world — his friends, his reality at this stage in life.
At one point, he put his phone down, stopped tapping his right foot, looked at me, and said:
“I like that you’re asking about me...”
...and from that moment, we both relaxed.
It was a great meeting — enriching for both of us.
For me, it was yet another confirmation that true learning starts with curiosity and from a safe space where the adolescent feels seen, heard, and respected — where they have autonomy, and where choice and response are welcomed at the table of dialogue.
How do you keep the conversation alive with your teenager?
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