As Thai parents grapple with balancing tradition, modernity, and the mounting pressures of raising children in an urbanized society, new global research and narratives are challenging assumptions about the best ways to nurture resilient, independent youth. The latest book by journalist Marina Lopes, “Please Yell at My Kids: What Cultures Around the World Can Teach You About Parenting in Community, Raising Independent Kids, and Not Losing Your Mind,” has garnered international attention for its deep dive into communal parenting approaches from various cultures. While the book’s American context is apparent, its core message—parents do not have to go it alone—resonates across Asia, including Thailand, where extended familial and community networks once played a crucial role in child-rearing.
At the heart of Lopes’s exploration are five critical lessons learned from observing, living with, and rigorously reporting on family life in places as varied as Mozambique, the Netherlands, Brazil, Malaysia, Singapore, Sweden, Denmark, and China. These settings present models with practical strategies that help parents rediscover the “village” once at the core of Thai upbringings—a concept often eroded in fast-paced, nuclear family-dominated Bangkok.
The book’s impetus came from Lopes’s own pandemic-induced parenting crisis, uniting with friends abroad in Singapore to create a modern-day “communal parenting village.” The striking improvement in her mental health and family life echoed a powerful truth: the isolation many parents face in industrialized societies is not a universal or necessary default—rather, it is a cultural construct that can be changed.
Lopes highlights Mozambique, where the term “mom” often refers to much more than a biological parent. Entire communities participate in nurturing, watching, and disciplining children. The intergenerational care system not only alleviates the stress of parenthood but also imparts a strong sense of belonging and responsibility in all members of the community. This echoes older Thai rural traditions, where neighborhood aunties, uncles, and community elders took turns caring for children as mothers tended to rice fields or local markets. In contemporary Thailand, especially in rural areas, similar vestiges persist; however, migration and urbanization have reduced these naturally occurring support networks, leaving many parents searching for new forms of connection.
Another model described in the book comes from the Iban people of Malaysia, whose longhouse communal lifestyle means that multiple adults participate in the daily lives of all children. Lopes notes the stark difference from Western norms: “There are real economies of scale when you team up with other exhausted parents.” In Thailand’s multi-generational households, typically seen in rural provinces and traditional communities, these economies of scale are still valued. Grandparents often become day-to-day caregivers, sometimes clashing with modern parenting philosophies yet providing indispensable social and emotional support.
Lopes also examines the Dutch practice called “forest dropping,” where children are left in the woods with little more than a flashlight and snacks, fostering courage and self-sufficiency. It is a sharp contrast to the “helicopter parenting” tendency among many upper-middle-class parents in Bangkok and Chiang Mai. While Thai families overwhelmingly value academic achievement and may be wary of letting children run free, the book provokes important questions about whether shielding children from challenge stifles indispensable life skills. Educational researchers, such as leading academics from Chulalongkorn University’s Faculty of Education, have also called for balancing academic rigor with opportunities for independent, real-world problem-solving—a theme that recurs throughout Lopes’s writing.
Drawing on Brazilian traditions, Lopes describes how childbirth and early parenthood are not private, nuclear-family events but times when entire communities gather—sometimes packing a hospital suite with supportive relatives and friends. Similarly, in more traditional Thai households, childbirth is accompanied by rituals and family gatherings, though such practices have been diluted under the influence of Western privacy ideals and changing work patterns.
Perhaps most relevant for many Thai readers is Lopes’s experience in Singapore. Grandparents in Singapore, much like in Thailand, are expected to play essential roles in raising grandchildren. At urban school pickups, she would find herself surrounded by elderly caregivers deeply entrenched in their grandchildren’s academic and extracurricular lives. In her book, Lopes challenges the tendency among Western families (and increasingly among urban Thai families) to set strict boundaries if intergenerational perspectives on parenting clash. Instead, she argues, families benefit when all members are encouraged to contribute according to their strengths, and alignment does not have to be total for support to be meaningful.
Support for these approaches is growing in the academic literature. Studies published by child development experts in journals such as Child Development and the Asian Journal of Social Psychology have found that intergenerational and communal approaches to parenting consistently yield better mental health outcomes for both children and parents (source). These structures are associated with increased resilience among young people, improved parent well-being, and greater adaptability in the face of social transitions.
Reflecting on her experience, Lopes offers a comprehensive takeaway: “The parenting hacks I picked up varied from country to country. But in every place, from Mozambique to Finland, I came away with the same lesson: parenting is hard everywhere, but nowhere is it as lonely as in the US.” For Thailand, the warning is clear—social change must not sever families and parents from wider circles of care and wisdom.
There is, of course, a dilemma. Thailand’s rapid urbanization, the pressure of educational competition, and a growing trend toward smaller families mean that traditional support systems are constantly under strain. In 2023, data from Thailand’s National Statistical Office showed that 43% of Thai children between the ages of 6 and 12 spend more than four hours per day alone or under the supervision of non-family caregivers (NSO report). This isolation can lead to greater risks of stress, depression, and burnout among both children and parents, according to paediatric psychologists from leading public hospitals.
Notably, Thai parenting discussions are also influenced by global trends such as “gentle parenting,” which emphasizes understanding and empathy but is often contextually challenging for busy, economically pressured families. Lopes does not advocate for a single “best” method. Instead, she calls on parents to critically borrow what works: “Building community—through family, friends or neighbors—won’t solve every parenting challenge. But it can lighten the load, restore your sanity, and bring joy back into your home.” Her findings suggest that parenting is most sustainable when it is not privatized or siloed within tightly bound nuclear units.
What does this mean in practice for Thai families? Lopes’s research—in line with comparative anthropological studies from Mahidol University—suggests several actionable steps. First, parents can look for creative ways to nurture “mini-villages”—even in high-rise apartments or dense urban neighborhoods, it is possible to form co-parenting support networks for shared school drop-offs, meal preparation, or weekend activities. Second, embracing the wisdom and help of elders, even if their parenting philosophies differ, can reduce family stress and foster deeper relationships across generations. Third, providing children with small, age-appropriate opportunities for independence—whether running a household errand, helping with laundry, or navigating to a nearby shop—is essential for building the practical and emotional strength required for adulthood.
Lopes’s global comparative approach also fits neatly with the Thai cultural idea of namjai—the generosity and interconnectedness that once characterized local communities. As Thailand faces declining birth rates and increasingly complex social pressures, reviving some of these communal values could be a critical strategy for the next generation’s wellbeing.
Looking to the future, policymakers and local leaders in Thailand might take inspiration from the models highlighted in “Please Yell at My Kids” to promote policies that make it easier for families to connect, neighbor with, and support each other. Pilot programs could revive multi-generational daycare, support neighborhood childcare cooperatives, and integrate parents more broadly into schools and community organizations, as has been piloted in Scandinavian and East Asian contexts.
For individual Thai parents, Lopes’s book—and the research underpinning it—offers both hope and permission: the isolation of modern parenting is not inevitable. By looking outward and drawing on cultural wisdom from around the world and at home, Thai families can return to a more balanced, less stressful, and joyful form of raising children. Start by inviting a neighbor to join your family dinner, reaching out to relatives for help, or simply letting friends “yell at your children”—with love, of course.
For more on the research, see The Guardian’s coverage of the book’s key lessons (theguardian.com), and academic resources on communal parenting in the Asian context (Wiley Online Library, NSO).