Attachment, Authenticity, and Alternatives in Education
Reflections on two books and a friend's creative reimagining of childhood
“We are not the playthings of a blind external power, but the sum of the gifts, weaknesses, and the other things we inherit, which a person brings with them. The goal of a meaningful life is to heed the call of this inner voice and to follow it as far as possible. The path would thus be: recognise yourself, but do not judge or desire to change yourself. Rather, let your life most closely approximate that predetermined shape, an inkling of which you already carry within you.”
— Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962)
From a letter written in September 1931. Translated by Ruth Martin.
Tomorrow our child begins kindergarten.
It feels like a small step in the rhythm of family life, but also like the opening of a much larger chapter. The transition stirs up all sorts of emotions — pride, excitement, a touch of worry. What kind of world will greet them? What kind of learning will shape them?
He is now asleep, full of anticipation after having ticked off the last day in his kindergarten countdown, while I sit here quietly reflecting on the past five years.
Two books have been sitting with me recently — Attachment Play by Aletha J. Solter and The Right Life by Remo H. Largo. One speaks about the small, everyday ways we can connect with our children — through laughter, games, and imagination. The other reflects on the lifelong search for authenticity, and how much of our well-being depends on living in alignment with who we truly are.
Solter is a Swiss/American developmental psychologist who is recognised internationally as an expert on attachment, trauma, and non-punitive discipline. I read this book right after our son was born in 2020. My wife discovered it and we recommend this book to all young parents. This book has been the single biggest influence in shaping our parenting philosophy.
Largo is a Swiss paediatrician and educationalist, internationally known for his long-term studies of child development. I picked this up a few weeks back at the local thrift store and have found it hard to put it down.
At first glance, these books occupy very different worlds — one is a practical guide for parents, full of games and approaches to connect with children; the other is a wide-ranging reflection on human individuality and its role in our development, health, and happiness. Yet, I found their themes converging in a surprisingly coherent way.
Both books challenge the dominant assumptions of our time: that growth comes from control, that success is a matter of meeting external benchmarks, and that individuals— whether children or adults — must be shaped to fit the mold prescribed by society. Instead, Solter and Largo offer a more humane vision — one in which people flourish not by conforming, but by being understood, respected, and allowed to grow in alignment with who they truly are.
Solter’s Attachment Play turns a familiar idea on its head — play is not an optional extra, a reward for finishing “real” work. It is the work of childhood. Through games, laughter, and symbolic role reversals, children process their fears, heal from stresses, and strengthen their bonds with parents.
One of her most striking examples is of a child who resists getting dressed in the morning. The usual response might be cajoling, scolding, or rushing. Solter suggests a different approach: turn the struggle into a game where the parent “mistakenly” tries to put socks on the child’s hands or the shirt on backwards. The child laughs, tension dissolves, and the task gets done without power struggles. What looks like silliness is in fact an emotional reset — a way of restoring cooperation through joy.
Again and again, Solter shows that when children are defiant or fearful, they are often inviting connection. And play — whether through silly games, role reversals, or laughter — is the door to that connection.
Largo’s The Right Life expands the lens to the whole lifespan. Drawing on decades of paediatric and developmental research, he argues that every individual comes into the world with a unique constellation of traits — temperament, cognitive abilities, sensitivities — that remain relatively stable throughout life.
One of his recurring observations is that children develop at vastly different paces. For example, some children may begin reading at four, while others only at eight or nine — and both can thrive if their environment is supportive. The problem, as Largo points out, is that schools (and later workplaces) rarely accommodate this diversity. Instead, they enforce uniform timelines and benchmarks, creating unnecessary suffering for those who don’t “fit.”
He recalls the stories of adolescents who, though bright and curious, felt chronically inadequate because their strengths didn’t match what the system valued. His conclusion is sobering: much of human unhappiness stems not from individual “deficits,” but from mismatches between our innate dispositions and the environments we are forced to navigate. The “right life,” then, is not a universal formula of success but one lived in congruence with one’s nature.
Taken together, these two books feel like two halves of the same circle: one focusing on the child’s immediate world of play, the other on the lifelong task of finding alignment with who we truly are. Both suggest that the path to wholeness is not through more rigid systems, but through listening, adapting, and creating environments where people (big or small) can thrive as themselves. Just as Solter urges parents to meet children where they are emotionally, Largo urges societies to meet people where they are developmentally and temperamentally.
Reading these books has felt less like theory and more like preparation: for tomorrow, for the years of school ahead, and for the lifelong task of helping a child grow into themselves.
I also find myself thinking of a dear friend, Shiv Tandan — a man of many talents — whose creative work embodies the spirit of both these books. On his Patreon project, Cham Cham Express, he writes and records original and modern nursery rhymes in Hinglish for Indian kids, together with a host of amazing creative professionals. These songs are fresh, soothing, and playful, crafted with the kind of tenderness Solter champions. They remind me that such songs that straddle culture and imagination can be a profound form of connection between parent and child. I speak from experience. Our current favourite songs are The Kachumbar Song and Shaperato. We find ourselves humming these randomly all day long. I won’t say more and will invite you to check out Cham Cham Express! I believe all songs are available with a seven-day free trial.
Among his many projects, Shiv also runs a YouTube channel, the Central Board for Fixing Education (CBFE), where he sheds light on the broken education system today in India, and shares practical ideas and strategies to navigate the logjam — inviting students, parents, teachers, and policymakers alike to (re)think and make better decisions. His videos speak directly to Largo’s concerns — how can we move away from a standardized, exam-driven system towards one that nurtures individuality, curiosity, and creativity? How can education be less about forcing children into boxes and more about helping them discover their “right life”?
Together, his creative projects form a living bridge between Solter’s focus on the healing power of play and Largo’s call for a society that respects individuality across the lifespan.
If these themes resonate with you and you find Shiv’s work inspiring, I encourage you to share, like, subscribe, and, if you are able, consider becoming a patron to support his creative journey.
All of this has left me with a renewed conviction. If we want a world where children and adults can truly thrive, we need to rethink both our micro-level interactions and our macro-level institutions. At home, this may mean rediscovering the power of laughter, play, and presence. In society, it may mean questioning educational and social structures that value conformity over authenticity.
I believe voices like Shiv’s — whether through nursery rhymes that invite joy or through videos that provoke serious reflection — are crucial in this reimagining. They remind us that change often begins not with grand declarations, but with a song, a laugh, or a moment of connection that opens a new way forward.