Growing pains - growing gains!
Let me share what teenagers have taught me about letting go of control!
I don’t have children of my own. But at 53, I’ve found myself increasingly surrounded by teenagers -nieces, godchildren, family friends, neighbours, even those I mentor through work. And if I’m honest, they fascinate me. Not because I understand them, quite the opposite -but because watching them has become one of the most honest lessons in Lean I’ve ever had.
When I first started practising Lean over 20 years ago, it was about optimising processes, systems, steps, workflows. I brought Lean from manufacturing into construction, then into everyday life. But nothing quite prepared me for how Lean thinking could also apply to the complex, often emotional, unpredictable world of growing up, especially in today’s digital, always-on world.
What I’ve learned, most humbling of all, is this: Teenagers are the ultimate test of your ability to let go of control while still holding space for growth. And if that isn’t Lean, I don’t know what is!
The Illusion of Control vs. the Reality of Flow
Lean teaches us to look for flow - a smooth, continuous, value-creating path that avoids unnecessary interruptions, bottlenecks, and friction. But when it comes to teenagers, most adults (myself included) fall into the trap of trying to control that flow.
We plan. We guide. We insist.
We want them to tidy their rooms, reply to messages, apply for things, think ahead, be kind, get off their phones, and go to bed at a reasonable hour. We do this because we care. But also, if we’re honest -because we’re uncomfortable watching them make what looks like mistakes.
Here’s the Lean lesson: Flow can’t be forced. It must be enabled. And when you try to control a process that’s still developing, like a teenager finding their way -you don’t create flow. You create resistance. Instead of trying to orchestrate their every move, I began shifting towards a Leaner question:
“What’s getting in the way of their flow, and how can I remove that without taking over?”
Sometimes, that means backing off. Sometimes, it means helping them visualise their time or priorities. But often, it just means listening.
The teen takt time dilemma
One thing I noticed quickly: teenagers have a different tempo. What feels urgent to me barely registers with them. Their mornings are slower. Their responses are delayed. Their world doesn’t move in sync with mine, and that used to frustrate me…still does actually!
Then I remembered Takt Time. In Lean, takt time is the rhythm or beat that aligns production with demand. If you rush things ahead of demand, you get overproduction (waste). If you lag behind, you get waiting (also waste). But if you try to impose your own takt time on a different system, it all breaks down.
Teenagers don’t operate to adult takt time, and nor should they. They’re still figuring out what demand even is in their lives. Trying to rush them into adult ways of operating is like trying to harvest fruit before it’s ripe. The process is still maturing. Let it.
Control is not respect
One of Lean’s core pillars is respect for people. We hear it so often, it becomes cliché, until we’re challenged to practise it where it counts.
Respect doesn’t mean agreeing with someone. It doesn’t mean condoning behaviour. It means acknowledging their right to own their process.
And here’s what struck me one afternoon when a teen I knew did something completely baffling (to me, anyway):
“If this was an adult at work, someone I am mentoring, would I be trying to control them? Or would I be supporting them to take ownership of their process?”
That was an uncomfortable moment.
It made me realise that, in trying to “help,” I was sometimes removing ownership. That’s not Lean. Lean empowers people to see, understand, and improve their own processes - not just follow someone else's script.
So, I started asking more instead of telling.
Questions like:
“How are you deciding what to prioritise this week?”
“What’s tripping you up right now?”
“What would make this easier for you?”
Not every question landed. Some got shrugged off. But slowly, a different kind of conversation opened up. Not one where I was in charge, but one where we were thinking together.
Their mess is part of the map
There’s a kind of beauty in watching a young person’s life unfold with all its imperfections. The chaos, the indecision, the mood swings. I have to keep reminding myself that they’re signals, not flaws.
In Lean, we’re trained to read signals and not just the obvious ones. Clutter? It’s a visual indicator. Delays? A symptom of an upstream problem. Silence? A lack of feedback loop.
Teenagers give you all of these signals, if you’re willing to read them with curiosity rather than judgment.
Their “messy room” might not be laziness -it could be lack of a system. Their withdrawal might not be rudeness -it could be emotional overload. Their forgetfulness might not be defiance -it could be cognitive bottleneck.
The Lean mindset invites us to understand before we intervene. That’s why Gemba walks - going to where the work happens -are so powerful. And in the teenage context, that might just mean sitting in their world without agenda. Asking gentle questions. Observing. Waiting.
Lean parenting (even when you are not the parent)
I’m not a mum. But in Lean terms, I suppose I’ve become a “Process Guardian” of sorts. I don’t own the outcome, but I can support it. And for parents reading this who are struggling - not with loving your teens, but with understanding them - Lean might offer a strange sort of comfort.
Not because it gives you answers. But because it gives you a framework to ask better questions. Because it reminds you that change happens best with people, not to them. Because it challenges you to trust the process, even when you can’t yet see the result.
The most Lean thing you can do
If I had to distil this entire experience into one Lean behaviour, it’s this:
Let go of control, but don’t let go of presence.
Being Lean with teenagers means:
Letting go of the need to fix
Creating systems that support, not suffocate
Respecting their learning cycles (even when they make zero sense to you)
Watching for waste, but not weaponising it
Holding space for their own PDCA -Plan, Do, Check, Adjust - in their own time
They will improve. So will you. That’s the beauty of continuous improvement.
If this resonates with you, or if you’ve had your own “Lean teenager moment”, I’d love to hear your reflections.
Because whether we’re parents, mentors, teachers, aunts, or just curious observers of life, we’re all part of someone’s system. And the more we learn to improve ourselves, the more we free others to grow too.
And truth be told, I’m still very much learning these lessons myself, not just with the teenagers in my life, but with my husband of 35 years. Despite three and a half decades of trying to Lean-influence him (with mixed results!), he still baffles me daily.
But perhaps that’s the point: Lean thinking isn’t about perfect outcomes, it’s about showing up with curiosity, compassion, and the willingness to adapt -no matter how many cycles it takes.
