Westport parents don’t consider themselves tiger moms (or dads).
But — to mix metaphors — the pressure to live up to high standards is part of the ether here.
And — to mix them again — “there are a lot of very accomplished people here. Our kids swim in those waters. Even if the parents try to send a message that it’s okay” not to get all A’s, or be the captain of every team, “the kids interpret it that way.”

Dr. Timothy Schmutte
That’s Dr. Timothy Schmutte speaking. He’s a clinical psychologist who lives and practices in Westport, and an assistant professor of psychiatry at Yale School of Medicine. His research focuses on suicide prevention.
He knows these waters. And he is keenly aware how treacherous they can be.
With 2 sons at Staples High School — and having taken part in numerous PPTs, IEPs and 504 meetings — “Dr. Tim” appreciates the mental health providers and opportunities in the Westport Public Schools.
But he knows what they’re up against.
The downside of growing up in a high-powered, high-achieving, high-expectation town is that there is an expectation that it’s normal, and good, for everyone to be high-powered and high-achieving too.
It’s natural for parents to judge themselves — or at least their parenting skills — by the accomplishments of their kids.
But when parents sense a red flag — that there’s something different or worrisome in their child’s life — they may call Tim.
“They present as a very convincing image of the son or daughter most parents would want to have. So we talk about life,” he says of his meetings with teens. They open up about how over-committed they feel. Advanced Placement and Honors classes; at least one sport; SAT and other tutors; studying to be an EMT — “these kids are juggernauts,” he notes.

On the surface, they seem to hold it together well. But as Tim digs deeper, he sees that they feel “overwhelmed. Stretched too thin. They feel they can’t pull back anywhere.”
They’re not suicidal, he says. “But they wish they could wake up without facing the crushing burden of their day. There’s a sense of ‘I don’t want to — or I can’t — go on this way.'”
The psychologist calls the cycle of school/practice/staying up until 2 a.m. to finish homework/school again “lather, rinse, repeat.”
“They’re trapped on a treadmill, at the highest speed,” he adds. “And who knows for how long? They can’t take a break until at least they’re admitted to college.”
For many, it’s “all work and no play.” Even the extracurriculars that are supposed to bring joy are seen as one more activity to check off, on the long slog to college, and then a good job.
(Of course, those job worries are real too. The looming disruption of AI exacerbates those already fraught decisions about majors and careers.)

So where do today’s teenagers find joy?
“That’s one of the first questions I ask,” Tim says.
“There’s usually a pensive pause. They have to really think about how they relax.
“A lot of them say, ‘I go to my phone.’ But that’s often just another level of stress.”
Besides, he says, “a lot of them don’t think they have the time, or the permission, to unwind, take a break and get off the treadmill.
Tim may ask, “Would it be the worst thing in the world if you dropped your club sport to have more time to relax, and live a more diverse life?”
It’s a way of “inviting kids to consider their lives. It gives them permission to have a conversation with their parents” about slowing down.
He points to 3 teens who did just that. All 3 called it “a game-changer.”

Teenagers need time to chill. (Photo/Gara Morse)
Tim does not want to alarm parents. But, he says, they may want to ask themselves, “Is my child over-stretched? Do you believe if they’re not at the 99th percentile in everything, that it would be a catastrophic failure?”
He notes the irony of saying all this while working at Yale — one of the most prestigious universities in the country.
But, Tim says, “There are not a lot of shiny, happy people there.” He calls his own academic pedigree “humble. You don’t have to go somewhere great to have a great life. And there is not only one shot at a good life.”
Plenty of Westport students do not get into their first choice college — or even their second or third.
Often, he says, his patients are “pleasantly surprised how much they enjoy” wherever they end up.
“They think back to the craziness of their junior and senior years.” They call it “much ado about nothing.”

“As much as they struggled with ‘average excellence,’ they did not see their own accomplishments, or feel pride, because of the unrelenting standards everywhere. Now they realize how excessive and unnecessary it was.” They feel “a tremendous sense of relief.”
It would be nice for parents to realize that too, as their younger children go through the process. Or for graduates’ siblings and underclass friends to understand those epiphanies.
But, Tim says, that hyper-competitiveness is “still in the air and water, all around us.”
Of course, some families realize the importance of “taking the foot off the gas.” He cites 2 fathers of teen patients, who began seeing a therapist themselves, to talk about their own feelings of parenting, expectations and life in a pressure- cooker town.. (It’s more common for women to take that step, Tim says.)
Dr. Tim Schmutte offers this message to area parents: “If you have a sneaking suspicion or concern about the well-being of your child — or if you wonder if they’re doing too much, or are not their usual self — honor that thought. Put feelers out.”
And for Westport teenagers: “B+ or B okay. You can have an amazing life at a place that is not your #1 school.
“This is not the end of a great journey. It’s only the beginning.”
(“06880” reports often on life in Westport. We cover people of all ages — including teens. If you appreciate stories like this one, please click here to support our work. Thank you!)