It is no secret that my favorite, in the Britain’s Got Talent competition this year, was Faryl Smith. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again–the girl has more than talent; she’s got soul. The public did not vote her number one, but Faryl will do well regardless. She will soon be signed with a record label and embark on a career as a professional singer. Faryl is 12 years old.

Let’s get personal. I have a nine-year-old daughter whose heart’s desire is to be a pop-star. She has been singing in front of mirrors, into voice recorders, for her mom’s video camera, at school, at church–well, anywhere she can gain an audience–since she was about five years old. It’s adorable. She puts on her headset, rocks out to Hannah Montana, and sings along with all she’s got. The girl is a keeper.

The music director at her school asked us if we would allow her to join the traveling choral group next year. She and some other girls, her age and a little older, want to start a band. My girl is growing up, and the things that used to be “cute” are now becoming more serious. How far should I let her run with this? I’m not keen on the idea of her traveling away from home with a singing group–even if it is school sponsored. Are my fears justified, or am I trying to hold on to her too tightly? She’s my daughter, my princess, my little girl. But she’s growing fast.

Somewhere in my travels recently, I was reading about the dangers of becoming a child star. It was an article in response to the recent news about Tatum O’Neil getting arrested on drug charges. Tatum is the youngest person to yet receive an Oscar; she was awarded hers at age 10. What happened? Despite seemingly unlimited opportunity to succeed; Tatum was busted for buying crack cocaine on a Sunday morning. It sounds like the theme from a Kris Kristofferson song.

Now, I know that the odds of my daughter ending up singing in your iPod are fairly remote. It could happen, but not likely. Worrying about the danger that may await when she becomes a teen idol is a bit like being afraid that I might win the lottery and get rich overnight. There are more pressing issues to ponder. There is one thought about the subject, though, that strikes me as very relevant. It is relevant to me, and maybe to you. If you are the parent or grandparent of child, I know it is.

How is it that Faryl Smith, at 12 years of age, has a composure and a presence that are rare to find in an adult? How many of us could have stood on the stage at Britain’s Got Talent–under the scrutinizing gaze of Simon Cowell, with a studio audience of a thousand, the television cameras beaming to millions–and kept our cool like that? How can a 12 year-old do that? Where did she learn it? Was she blessed with special parents, an Andrew Carnegie course, a fortunate gene pool?

This is one of the primary reasons that I encourage my daughter to keep singing and to keep performing: The repeated experience builds self-confidence and poise. To have something worth saying, but to be unable to express it due to a fear of public speaking, is a sad thing to witness. I see it in the kids I teach at school…smart kids, with plenty to offer, but who are unable to stand up and express themselves and their ideas.

This past year in the classroom, we did our own version of Poetry Out Loud. I saw students who normally want to hide in back of the room, never raise their hand, and can barely speak when asked a question–I saw them come alive when they were given the opportunity and encouragement to say what they wanted to say, in a supportive environment. No, the success rate was not 100%, but it was encouraging. My junior high poet laureate was a student who was on the verge of flunking and whose usual demeanor was withdrawn. Given the opportunity, though, she blossomed; and I look forward to seeing her grow even more next year.

That’s what it is all about, isn’t it? We need to provide our kids with opportunities to grow and then to monitor them as they proceed. Is it bad to become a child star? That topic is debated up and down the block. My take on it is this: It is not the opportunity that determines the outcome. It is how we manage the opportunity. Our lives are made up of choices, and every day presents a potential Road Turn. Our job, as parents, is first to choose wisely for our children and then–ever so carefully–to teach them to choose wisely for themselves.