Be the Coach, Not the Critic

As someone who coached my older daughter in softball for several years, this phrase stayed with me the moment I first heard it: “Be the coach, not the critic.” I remember thinking how powerful that mindset is not only in sports, but in classrooms, activities, and everyday life with children. Coaching children means encouraging them, helping them learn through mistakes, and reminding them that growth takes practice. Criticism often shuts children down, while encouragement helps them feel safe enough to keep trying. I designed a children’s yoga lesson focused on helping children quiet their inner critic and become their own coach.

Teaching Children the Power of Positive Self-Talk Through Yoga and Movement

A few weeks ago, one of the kindergarten teachers I work with noticed something important: many of the children were being incredibly hard on themselves.

• “I can’t do it.”
• “I’m bad at this.”
• “I keep messing up.”

For little bodies and little brains still learning how to navigate the world, negative self-talk can show up early.  And I thought of the phrase I had recently heard and knew it’d be a perfect theme for this age group:

Be the coach, not the critic.

I started class by explaining the difference between a coach and a critic. We talked about how a critic is the voice that constantly says negative things — “I’m bad at this,” “I’ll never get it,” or “I can’t do it.” A critic makes us want to give up. But a coach talks to us differently. A coach encourages us, reminds us to keep trying, and helps us believe we can grow. I emphasized the importance of learning how to be your own coach — because there will always be hard things, uncomfortable moments, and challenges that take practice. The way we speak to ourselves during those moments matters – A LOT.

Throughout class, I repeated a phrase I frequently say in my classes:

“We learn it. We practice it. We get better at it.”

We talked about how learning something new does not mean we master it immediately. In fact, mistakes are often how we learn best. When we wobble, fall, struggle, or feel frustrated, our brain is actually gathering information. That information helps us come back stronger the next time.

I shared an age-appropriate piece of my own story with the children. After my head injury years ago, I had to relearn certain movements that most people never even think about — like walking and turning my head at the same time without becoming dizzy. At first, it felt impossible. My brain and body were uncomfortable, and I became frustrated easily.  But little by little, through practice, my brain adapted.

I explained to the children that I learned something important during that process: I did not need to do things perfectly or quickly to improve. I needed to practice them in a way that helped my brain feel safe enough to learn. Slowly became stronger. Practice became progress.

That conversation became the foundation of our physical practice.

Practicing what we preach

I intentionally planned challenging poses – plank jacks, side planks, balance challenges and sequences.

One of the poses we worked on was a balancing sequence I call, “Seagull Sweep.” The children begin in airplane pose, slowly sweep down to the ground to pick up a scarf, and then return back to balance — just like seagulls swooping down at the Jersey Shore to grab food before flying back up again.

At first, many of the students wobbled, tipped over, or became frustrated.  And that was exactly the point.  One child even said, “I can’t do this,” and we talked (again) about our inner critic. 

Instead of saying “I can’t,” we practiced coaching ourselves:

• “I’m still learning.”
• “I can try again.”
• “I’m getting stronger.”
• “I’m doing my best.”

By the third round, something amazing happened. The children naturally began engaging their core muscles, slowing their movements, and focusing their attention. They were balancing longer, moving with more control, and most importantly — speaking to themselves differently.

That is the magic of movement-based social emotional learning.

Confidence doesn’t grow when everything comes easy. Confidence grows when children experience challenge, practice through discomfort, and realize they are capable of trying again.

In our classes, we talk often about how everyone’s “best” looks different. Some days our bodies feel strong. Some days our minds feel distracted. Some days balance comes easily, and some days we fall out of poses over and over again.

But growth does not require perfection.

It requires practice.
It requires compassion.
It requires learning how to encourage ourselves the same way a good coach would.

Because the truth is:  We all have an inner voice.

And one of the most important things we can teach children is how to make that voice supportive instead of critical. Be the coach, not the critic. 

The scarves I use in my children’s classes can be found here, along with some of my favorite props for using in my classes.