Why Kids Can't Answer 'What Are You Great At?' (And How to Change That)

I asked a group of teenagers, "What are you great at?" The silence was deafening.

After 30 years teaching cooking to 50,000+ students, I've noticed a troubling pattern: kids can list their flaws instantly but struggle to name a single strength. 

I send stories like these twice a month. Subscribe to get them in your inbox.

When kids can list their flaws instantly but struggle to name a single strength, we have a problem - and it starts with how we've taught them to see themselves.

A question that shouldn't be this hard to answer

I posed this question to a group of teenagers recently, and the response was telling. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, I offered an example: "I'm great at waking up at 5 AM after very little sleep - because I'm a night owl - and still smiling and being in a good mood."

I wanted them to see this wasn't rocket science. It didn't have to be life-changing or profound. Just something real, something they could own.

The silence persisted.

So I kept gently prodding with questions, and slowly, a few answers trickled in. One guy said "driving." Another mentioned "rugby." A few more voices joined in.

But it was the deafening silence from the girls that was most stark.

The List We Know Too Well

Then I flipped the question: "What are you bad at?"

The list began immediately. Detailed, specific, and delivered with certainty.

We've taught people - and it seems girls in particular - to not own what they're great at. Yet, we're all great at something. Being modest or demure isn't inherently good or bad, but when it becomes so ingrained that young people can't even recognize their own strengths, we have a problem.

Where Does This Come From?

For the last eight years, I've been working with kids ages 8-17, determined to catch them before it's too late. Teaching adults for so many years opened my eyes to something heartbreaking: so many students came to cooking as an escape. They hated their jobs, felt disconnected from their lives, and were seeking solace through food and cooking - trying to find the joy and purpose they'd lost along the way.

I knew I had to reach younger people before the world taught them to diminish themselves.

But where exactly are these lessons coming from? It's complex, rooted in multiple layers:

The Perfection Trap: We've created a culture where being great at something means being perfect at it. If you're not the best, why claim it at all?

The Fear of Being Wrong: We praise the right answer but not the curious guess. This teaches young people that it's safer to stay quiet than risk being incorrect - or worse, appearing arrogant.

Gendered Messaging: Girls especially receive subtle (and not so subtle) messages about taking up space, being "too much," or appearing conceited. The result? A generation that can catalog their flaws with precision but struggles to name a single strength.

Comparison Culture: Social media amplifies this, creating endless opportunities to measure yourself against others' highlight reels.

What We're Really Teaching

When we can't answer "What are you great at?" but can immediately list our shortcomings, we're teaching ourselves that:

Our weaknesses define us more than our strengths

Humility means self-deprecation

Recognition of our abilities is somehow wrong

We're more comfortable being critics than celebrants of ourselves

The Ripple Effect

This mindset doesn't stay in childhood. It follows us into job interviews where we stumble over our strengths but readily discuss our "areas for improvement." It shows up in relationships where we apologize for our quirks instead of owning what makes us unique. It manifests in careers where we undersell our abilities and wonder why we're overlooked for opportunities.

A Different Conversation

What if we normalized celebrating what we're good at? What if we taught young people that recognizing their strengths isn't arrogance - it's self-awareness?

What if we asked "What are you great at?" as often as we ask "How can you improve?"

The teenager who said he was great at driving might seem simple, but he was practicing something revolutionary: owning his competence without qualification or apology.

The one who mentioned rugby was claiming space for his abilities.

Those few voices that joined in were learning to speak up for themselves.

What If You Started Here?

This week, practice answering: "What are you great at?"

Start small. Maybe you're great at reading a room and knowing exactly what to say, or helping people see solutions they can't see themselves, or making others laugh, or finding parking spots, or staying calm in chaos. Maybe you're great at asking good questions or making killer playlists or giving hugs that actually help. Notice how it feels to claim something positive about yourself without immediately following it with a "but" or disclaimer.

Then, if you're around young people—your kids, students, nieces, nephews, the teenager who bags your groceries - ask them the same question. And when they struggle, share something you've noticed they're great at.

We're all great at something. It's time we started acting like it.

---

Not on my newsletter list yet? I send stories like this twice a month- lessons on curiosity, conversations and connection. Subscribe to get them in your inbox.