One of these things is not like the other.

Jon Haynes Photography

In today’s Washington Post, Petula Dvorak points out that like their disadvantaged peers, privileged children are stressed out, too, in “No class boundaries to childhood stress“:

Three in 10 living in the nation’s capital are feeling the weight of adult problems every day.

Those kids rarely have a carefree moment. The pressure of their situation squeezes them constantly, putting the joy of a simple exhale beyond their reach.

But wait a minute. Isn’t that almost exactly what we hear from many of their more privileged peers?

They describe a life in which they aren’t given the time to just go out back and play. They are crushed by their obligations and crippled by stress.

I’ll give it to Dvorak– this column could have been grating. It’s not exactly gracious to compare the problems of the haves with the have-nots, but she carefully avoided that pitfall.

Somehow, the parents of these students can’t see what all this pressure is doing. Many undoubtedly pity children who are living in poverty, without ever realizing that their own kids are hurting, too.

In a region increasingly divided between the haves and have-nots, where the number of families earning more than $100,000 and the number earning less than $25,000 are rising, it’s probably hard to see that our children are often suffering in very similar ways.

The big difference is, one group is doing it by choice.

Exactly. While it may be difficult for the helicopter parents of well-off students to see how harmful such pressure is, it’s still possible for their stressed-out offspring to gain perspective. Twenty years ago, I attended an ultra-competitive private high school which required students to do community service; all of our complaints about zero-period (an hour of classes before regular classes began) and college-level research papers were silenced a few minutes in to our volunteer work, when we were forced to confront how lucky we were.