To Kumon or to Mickey

Posted on May 25, 2011 by admin

 

 

 

A girlfriend sent me this New York Times Article about Junior Kumon hitting lower Manhattan. As in, not a kiasu Asian community in Singapore or Hong Kong, but New York. (The funniest thing is there you have Kumon boom in the big apple, and there Bloomberg reports in China kids are getting Disney English lessons.)

Every time I hear about tuition classes for the young, I start to freak out. It’s not like I don’t pay any attention to what Rockstar learns, I answer his WHYs constantly til I don’t even realize when I’m speaking to my husband in the same way, but – I barely even knew what Kumon really was til quite recently (I’ve never been to a Disney theme park either, but I am proud to disclose I knew what that was for longer).

Maybe if there was a Disney Putonghua equivalent? (We ended up with full-fledged one-on-one Putonghua lessons for Rockstar by fluke, one of the Putonghua speakers we got to hang out with him when he was a baby turned out to be an actual teacher. And well, I have serious Putonghua-block. I once learnt to swing Faye Wong for work karaoke, but seriously gave up learning to read/write chinese several times <shame> (I’m Peranakan, Kebaya and all, my family hasn’t spoken chinese in several generations… I didn’t want Rockstar to find it similarly tough when he was older.)

 

Disney English, Mercedes Putonghua?

But back to Kumon. I would like to keep not paying attention to any more of that stuff, please, at least while Rockstar’s still shy of 3 and a half. It is Voluntary Deaf-Muteness. Of the kind that takes over when I hear a nurse at Rockstar’s pediatrician’s ask the parent ahead of me, “So, she’s school-going age now isn’t she, what school is she attending, would that be Chinese International (ie most exclusive private school in HK with debenture price tag HKD 4.95mio thereabouts)?” – I mean seriously why would you want to speak to a person like that anyway? (And Ms Nurse, a child’s developmental stages at a well-baby/child checkup are not determined by whether they are attending Chinese International, so where did you go to nursing school please? Don’t dish out unless you can also swallow, bullies. Damn, I hate bullies. Ok, maybe not so mute after all.)

I have to constantly check myself, because it’s actually much easier for me to cave and schedule up a storm of tuition (I didn’t, ok? All Rockstar’s got is Putonghua and that’s cos we seriously suck at it). Had I still been at work I would probably be doing just that because I couldn’t be there and seriously don’t trust helpers to parent. The Rockstar may as well be having tuition rather than hanging out with the helper. Right? Right??

At Rockstar’s well-baby checkup when he was about two, his (then) pediatrician took out a bunch of board books and puzzles. In a corner on display was a vintage-looking board with different shapes and I kinda shot myself in the foot by asking about it. It was there for sentimental reason, because two siblings in the clinic, when they each had been 2, had demonstrated their proficiency in identifying not just squares and ovals, but pentagons, hexagons, octagons. (They were apparently taught to these children by the helper they spent all day with, while mum and dad were bankers and lawyers at work.)

“Never mind,” Rockstar’s then-pediatrician consolled me. “Even if he gets (pentagons, hexagons, octagons) when he’s 3 that should still be quite good.” Y-eah I still haven’t explained pentagons, hexagons, octagons to Rockstar – there’s a helper out there that appears to be doing a better job than me. Back then I still worked, and my knee-jerk reaction was Why The Hell Can’t I Ever Find A Helper Like That? I’m Working Toooo!

It took me almost a year of reeducation (ie quit job, spend time at home just un-complicating things) to realize you can actually teach your child to memorize lots of incredibly impressive bits of information that will seriously freak out other kiasu parents like yourself. It took me a little while longer to erm, “grow out of it” – what’s the real point in doing that, the whole time you’re showing off that cool little thing your child knows, you actually also know he doesn’t really know why that’s a hexagon or what-not. He might have just memorized where each shape should be on that board.

And why do I even care so much about whether he knows octagons from hexagons (sour grapes me, cos I’m pretty sure he doesn’t haha)? Because when you love your child (and especially have your first one I guess) it can be even harder to not go looking for something else to worry about. But – how come professional soccer players practice hundreds of penalty kicks, get it right every single time in training and then can royally screw up in front of 10,000 fans? Bill Crowder in Daily Bread, quoted a basketball superstar in a radio interview who had a knack for making crucial game-winning shots, “You only need to make one shot…” Forget about the  expectations of your coach, teammates, fans. It’s the same shot you’ve done. The same thinking you’ve always had. You love soccer. Basketball. Parenting (uh, right?) Or whatever. You get to do it hopefully the rest of your life. How come you’re worrying, not enjoying the blessing?

“Research suggests that there is little benefit from this kind of tutoring (ie like Kumon); that young children learn just as much about math, if not more, fitting mixing bowls together on the kitchen floor” – NYT article

“The best you can say is that they’re useless,” said Alison Gopnik, a professor of psychology at the University of California, Berkeley, who compared the escalation of supplemental education with Irish elk competing to see which had the biggest antlers. “The result is that they go around tottering, unable to walk, under the enormous weight of these antlers they’ve developed,” she said… – same article

I can think of a parenting equivalent – we get lulled into a false sense of security about what our children really absorb and learn when they start reciting cool sums and multiplications. (Only problem with that is if/when one day you then discover your child simply got taught to memorize every damn thing you might get a little upset.)

We don’t really need to talk numbers/ shapes/ bedtime stories, it’s all being taken care of. And off I go to work, trot, trot, trot (not you, me. That could’ve been ME, before I got it together and quit the job). I’m sure he can ride a bike, I paid SGD 600 for him to learn.

(I met someone in Singapore who was What, SGD 600 to ride a 2-wheeler? I’m teaching my 6-year old myself! He did. His son btw, is special, mildly autistic. Sometimes when I see the yucky competitiveness among parents of non-special children, I have so much more respect for the others… I also crossed paths briefly during a bank merger with a (Dutch, I think) boss who had an interesting take on parenting – he adopted an HIV-positive child into his family of 3 biological children. He believed raising their adopted sibling together would educate the whole family…)

Anyway. “Repetition, derided elsewhere as drill and kill, is considered the key to developing concentration.” Parents interviewed for the article talk about self-esteem boosts, little kids who cry because older siblings get homework/ already know how to read… Different strokes for different folks.

And with that, I’ve gotta stop lifting from one and the same article. It’s Mickey’s turn:

“It’s a very efficient way of marketing their brand as well as the amusement park,” said Shang Yang, chairman of Shangyang Enterprise Management Consulting Co. “They’re starting years early, brainwashing Chinese children and cultivating them as potential clients in a very indirect, yet penetrative, fashion.” – Bloomberg article on Disney English

Yeah, where can I buy stock in Disney English? Even better investment than when the hub told me to go buy stock in Victoria’s Secret (private joke). The irony is, Disney English, unashamedly about marketing their franchise, might actually teach English more effectively in China than say, the Kumon stuff teaches math in Manhattan?

And not to say memorizing cool bits of info isn’t necessarily a good idea – it comes in pretty handy when you want to totally impress the pants off the grandparents.

 

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3 Things Daddy Says… That Always Land Him Trouble

Posted on May 24, 2011 by admin

#1: See dear, didn’t I tell you all kids love ice cream?

#2: But… he wanted ice cream…

#3: See this wall? Do NOT draw on this wall. I know it looks like a lot of fun, but you are not allowed to do it. Ok? (Guess what happened next?)

Rockstar "fixing" his wall scrawlings (You can just make out the pencil marks under the flower)

Stick...

Peel...

Horse Around...

In our home, where there be flowers..... You can guess what happened to the wall.

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Adventures of Scooter Boy

Posted on May 22, 2011 by admin
Scooter Boy Meets Parenting Magazine, perches on shoulders, bumps ears

Meet Scooter Boy, awarded me by one of Rockstar’s classmates at my last volunteer session (I’m behind blogging it because I hadn’t gotten round to loading the pics). Waiting to go up, periodically a group of 4 or 5 kids with clipboards would gather round the main entrance for a brief discussion with school staff before going outside for a counting-in-real-life exercise.

Scooter Boy’s winning smile is sometimes met with disdain…

(I learn later these are Kindergarten 2 car-counting excursions – they were making use of the traffic congestion brought about by the construction works going on outside to count construction vehicles and well, the average slower-moving car – talk about opportunistic glass half-full inspirations… Have got to tell Rockstar the annoying traffic jam he’s complaining about is good for car-counting – you can grouse or you can enjoy a count… Hmm, this is hard…)

We get papers, flyers and some magazines to cut up and stick and some of the kids start cutting out the alphabets in their names and sticking them onto colorful magazine scraps. And then, “Rockstar, are you making anything or just sitting with mummy?” Oops. Good question. It’s true he’s enthusiastically snipping this and that but well, he isn’t exactly following thru on grand aspirations to make the “double-decker bus” he’s going on about and some of the school staff have caught that. (I view these as inspirational but of course he should also be applying himself.) Make mental note to follow up at home.

Scooter Boy soon discovers scooters can’t float

It’s one of the main things I use my chance at volunteer sessions for – Rockstar listens to me more when I walk the talk. Mum can’t wait to get to go again, she really believes school’s fun and important. This is either a conspiracy of massive proportions, or she really means it – learning’s important, we should revise what we learn in school <insert sagely Rockstar-nodding>. He, my under 3-and-a-half-year-old, who knew my son would have such a sensitive built-in hypocrisy-dar. Is it because Kings has very good gay-dar? (One of his roommates was gay, to this day he has a talent for identifying my gay ex-colleagues before they come out – been right every time, too).

Scooter Boy meets Trucker Boys, learns to scoot on pavement

Anyway. Catching Mum Out is a favorite pastime of my offspring and I’m hoping to get the habit of a school-revision rhythm in early – I picked that up from a former mummy boss I greatly respected, she parented 2 daughters (was at aggressive i-bank, got pregnant twice in quick succession, quit  market for 4 years, took step down when she went back, soon became super duper senior and successful again) – the elder topped HK public exams and is now attending Wharton, the younger is at HK medical school. I continue to admire my former boss’ ability to motivate. I remember how I felt, working for her. I remember her advice: instill young, that sense of achievement and your child’s love for it.

Hell, truth is I couldn’t Tiger Mother to save my life, what else am I gonna do when he has to take school work seriously? I can’t talk myself into believing TM-ing works without at least the additional communication that achievement is for you, child, not me, parent. In which case you would not need to force it every step of the way if you can effectively find a way to communicate it in the first place… (I keep thinking if your kid is at all smart he’s probably thinking Just You Wait, Henry Higgins and then first chance he gets to do his own thing he’s gonna stop doing whatever it was you were pushing him so hard to do.. Just because you pushed him to do it. At some point in the pushing I believe it becomes too easy for kids to believe they were not being pushed to achieve for themselves.)

Will Scooter Boy manage to stop in time, or will he collide with Giant Juggling Hot Mum? (Oh, the metaphor alone just blows me away!)
Nope… With Marvellous Manouvering Mojo he carries on his way…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still, he can’t quite keep from terrifying this mum behind the wheel… This is why you don’t usually scoot on the main road, you upset driving mums… Hmmm… profound…

At cleanup time I’m amazed when one little boy efficiently finds a waste paper basket and then a few other classmates position it at one end of the table and deftly sweep all the paper scraps in. Wow. (At home we do all our cutting on the floor to “JD! Don’t. Eat. My… Paper!” “JD! Don’t step! JD! I’m busy! Go… away!” And yet… when I tried having us cut papers while JD was out on one of her 90 minute walks I got mildly plaintive “But… Where’s JD??”)

Every time I volunteer at Rockstar’s school, my relationship with Rockstar benefits. It’s hard to explain, every volunteer morning I’m Maybe Today’s The Day I Flake, and then I realize my son ain’t buying, and then after, I’m glad he didn’t.

“Uh, Mum’s tired today. So she’s a little worried if someone else is naughty and you get really mad she won’t be able to think of a way to talk you down from a fight.” “Tsk! DON’T worree Mu-um!”<theatrical eye-rolling, head-shaking> “I’ll be-have!”

Y-eah. I’m not getting out of it so easily.

Finally, Scooter Boy discovers the Real Meaning of his travels.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then I remember Rockstar was so bent on helping me cut stuff, get tape, entertain the other kids we didn’t get anything meaningful done ourselves. So we learnt to do anonymous letters. (Sharrup, all you people who think I’m teaching my child to turn stalker… They’re still ALPHABETS, aren’t they?)

And well, you’re never so cool to your own rockstar as when his friends think you’re cool. I mean yeah, you’re the parent, you’re the boss bla-de-bla but if doing this inspires him more then why the hell not? It’s a lot more fun, anyway.

Ps: Dear Rockstar, that’s how much I love you.

(In case you were wondering, Scooter Boy was from some toy store pamphlet one of the other kids was cutting up and then I moved him about the pics in a parenting magazine lying around to make up something to entertain Rockstar with over the weekend… Got the idea from Rockstar’s Kindy’s Learning To Read – How To Help Your Child where they talked about creating your own stories and comics to foster a love for books.)

To: aileensml@yahoo.com.sg

I cant bring myself to believe in it.. I keep thinking if your kid is at all smart he’s probably thinking Just You Wait, Henry Higgjns and then first chance he gets to make up his own mind he’s gonna stop doing whatever it was you were pushing him so hard to do.. At some point in the pushing they might stop thinking they r achieving for THEMSELVES..

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Uncharitable Me

Posted on May 20, 2011 by admin

We should use alternate transport more often

Standing in the Landmark taxi queue, a young woman comes up to me for a donation for the elderly. The kind that have authentic printed leaflets, and secure collection bags. Why not, I open my wallet, at which point she volunteers “HKD 100 would help one elderly person immensely.”

Another young woman from the same charity comes over, “How about making another donation?” she proffers her bag. At which point I belatedly realize no one else in the queue that I can see has contributed. The first young woman hands me a tea towel apparently my donation has “bought,” and I decline to accept it (what do I need the tea towel for?) while her companion tries again. Loudly. “Come on, how about helping another elderly person immensely?” She smiles winningly. I avoid her eyes.

In that instance I don’t see what I wish I did, someone who has taken time out to stand on a busy, polluted sidewalk on a hot summer’s day. I’m irritated by her persistence, maybe because I notice there are quite a few people she doesn’t even approach. She leans in between me and the first woman, still smiling, and tries to catch my eye. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? “Come on, are you sure…..?” Seeing my face, the first woman drags her off me and beats a quick retreat, but not before thrusting two tea towels I don’t want at me. I start to protest, she insists, I take the towels just to get rid of them.

Not a minute later, I happen to make eye contact with a young man holding a collections box. He immediately makes a beeline for me, without approaching anyone else in the queue, “How about donating, you would help a lot of people – “

“No. Leave me alone.” I don’t say it loudly, but I feel like a monster. The caucasian couple in front of me, who btw didn’t donate, like most every other person in the queue that I can see, flinch. And continue to not to look at these people.

Deja Vu. I am also the monster who scolded locals in the street who were collecting donations for shelter animals in Sai Kung. We were carrying lots of shopping and somehow in the mad scramble (that Kings always initiates in his effort to get wherever the hell he’s going faster than fast) to pick all our stuff up my husband scooped up  my handbag and charged off through the crowd with the Rockstar on his shoulders, leaving me to try and keep up while pushing Rockstar’s stroller (way, WAY back when he very occasionally still deigned to use one – now we use the BMX to get him anywhere fast.)

So when I get stopped for a donation I explain my husband has run off with my purse (it’s the truth but I still find it a little funny the way he charges purposefully about and how come no one ever stops him for a contribution) and, seeing Kings decide and indicate our cafe destination not 10 feet away, explain that after we’re settled I’ll come back.

So you’d think regardless whether she believes me she’s gonna let me by, right? WRONG. She stands there partially blocking the stroller and proceeds to wheedle, “Come on lah… Have some compassion…”

That’s when I lose it. (In case you’re wondering it was the use of the word compassion that I somehow found obnoxious) “LOOK AT ME. I am pushing a stroller piled high with groceries, trying to keep up with – ” Aforementioned husband has actually turned all the way around from a crowded 5 feet ahead with a grim expression on his face. Oh. That must’ve been loud. Kings is NOT normally responsive when I speak, we converse on email, Bloomberg (and now What’s App), a habit formed from a relationship developed around our lives in dealing rooms…

Ah well <indicating grim husband>. “I said I don’t have my bag. HE’S got my bag <grim husband holds up beaten up old Prada. Mildly entertained Rockstar looks on. Oh. Mummy’s scolding someone in the street and it’s not me. Hmm. Were they touching the dog pee stained pavement?> We need to put our things down, I said I would come back and I will. You are scaring people off that way (oops maybe so was I). Let. Me. By.”

This time everyone lets us alone. It’s like a parting of the sea of people. I loathe going back but I actually can’t remember when I’ve ever flaked on when I say I’ll do it. In Cantonese I can hear someone whisper, “She actually did donate. Leave her alone.” Well, d-uh?

OK. Only for the sake of fleshing out my gripe post. If asked, people who know me personally would probably describe me as fairly generous. Beyond tithing, I’ve always liked doing little things for friends and colleagues. I sent flowers to a right hand at the office for several Valentine’s when she was getting over someone (even after we didn’t work together), when I have a bad day I might do coffee runs (serving just changes your whole “I’M having a bad day, ME” outlook).. And yes I donate. It stems from a genuine belief in generosity as a way of worship, of giving something back. I feel I’ve led a blessed life (in case you were thinking it’s Total Crackpot Day in Rockstarland, lemme point out that being a glass-half-full person will help you a lot more than it helps anyone else). Granted I have never lived where someone could choose not to work and just stand on the street it might be easier for me to feel this way…

So anyway. I don’t know why the aggressive donation seeking in Hong Kong just totally pisses me off. Maybe the average person on the street needs to be canvassed like that, it’s certainly not easy to do, in which case these people should really be applauded.

But it just annoys the hell out of me . Especially the bit where they zero in on people they think would be a soft touch. From now on I am cheque-only. And alternate taxi Q seeking.

Rockstar Public Service Message: Seek Landmark taxi queue alternatives. Flirt with Huiwen.

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Rockstarisms #116, #117 & #118

Posted on May 18, 2011 by admin

Him making fun of my hat. Apparently fedoras are hilarious.

#116

Rockstar: Mum. How come when I was born I don’t remember seeing you?

#117

Me: Wow, your smoothie got here FAST. Do you think that was cos you were polite (to the waiters at one of our regular haunts – I’ve been complaining he doesn’t respond politely enough when they try to play with him), or were you just lucky?

<thoughtful pause>
Rockstar: Naw, I was just lucky <frown and grave head-shaking>.

#118

Rockstar: <thoughtful> Mum. Will you still love me if I’m naughty?

Me: <Panicked> WHAT DID YOU DO?

Rockstar: <gravely> Nothing. Just asking.

Me: Yes. Even if I freak out.

Rockstar: <grave, satisfied nod> Ok.

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Psalm 127 License Plate

Posted on May 18, 2011 by admin

On school run one day, the car in front sported this license plate:

An ex-colleague used to say when something jumps up at you from the Bible, pay attention. I had no recollection of having come across Psalm 127 before, so I looked it up (turns out part of it was in a collection of Bible verses in a set of notecards that have followed me from dealing room to dealing room ever since I accepted Christ):

127:1 Unless the lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the lord watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain.

127:2 In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves.

And then I read the verses below the one I knew for the first time:

127:3 Children are a heritage from the lord, offspring a reward from him.

127:4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.

127:5 Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their opponents in court.

It’s impossible to improve on this post.

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Skydive Lake Wanaka

Posted on May 17, 2011 by admin

Finally got this converted into something upload-able on Youtube (or rather, Kings did)…

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMdLPaP3kxM]

Rockstar was about 3 months shy of his second birthday, when I did this (note the other mummy in the background who was also gearing up for a jump), and 6 months later I quit to raise him fulltime… For a couple years I’d had to give up wakeboarding (the summer I was trying to teach myself to jump was the summer I was unexpectedly pregnant – and falling hard on the water since I was learning… Praise the Lord I kept the pregnancy) and then chanced upon the skydive and thought Ah. No Need To Practice Or Train For This. (Didn’t hurt their motto is Adrenaline Is Legal.)

The night before, I slept better than I had in awhile (I’m a very light sleeper normally) – I just really wanted to do it. When I got back to work after the baby I’d made it clear that while the P/L target was fine, I wished to have as little erm, leadership responsibility (read: potential politicking) as possible because I didn’t want to bring the stress home.

(I don’t consider $$$ targets very stressful, I live for the thrill – I always believe you need a bit of that kind of challenge in order to be your personal best… The problem was since my late-ish 20s before Rockstar I had almost always either been heading small teams/ projects/ been a ranking senior. I wanted, needed more “good stress”, more challenge, but couldn’t get my fix without also taking on the bits I was trying to avoid. Not with the financial crisis causing a lot more upheaval than usual… So I wanted, needed to jump out that plane. 15,000 feet. The higher altitude jump.)

Kings didn’t sleep the night before (and he can usually sleep in any condition), he has a serious problem with heights. He spent the night researching accident rates on skydiving in general and the company I was using in particular. But he said nothing to me.

On the hour-long drive out to the airbase, my husband asked me very casually once again why I really wanted to do this. On the hour-long drive back after the jump was when he finally told me how terrified he had been.

He hadn’t said a word before because he knew then I would not have jump.

It’s why I’ll never jump again.

ps: Did anyone notice it was Kings, not me, who kept trying to convert the video?

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Freakonomics’ What Makes A Perfect Parent

Posted on May 16, 2011 by admin

 

The edition I bought!

First published in 2005, Freakonomics was one of those things some of us in the finance industry liked to read because it was written by 2 brilliant yet entertaining economists. (As in, they exist?) It inspired the special kind of love we reserve for when those poor quants and analysts corralled to speak in early morning dealing room briefings before the caffeine kicks in actually manage to make a funny.

Towards the end of the book is a piece titled What Makes A Perfect Parent that I glossed over. One big fat ironic reason I now went looking for their writings on parenting was because somewhere at the back of my mind I suddenly remembered Levitt and Dubner (L&D) didn’t make their career on parenting or child safety (I’m neurotic enough without additional fear mongering – most innovations/ new research in child safety are affiliated to a new product being marketed btw – or say, politics, like in the case of gun accidents in the States? And then reading all the different, at times conflicting parenting material from experts who sound exceedingly sure of their own methods and then trying to also answer Rockstar’s daily why, Why, WHYs were just turning my brain to mush).

L&D were also an inspiration to apply other talents you might have (say, from work) to help you analyze parenting choices. Besides glitzy accolades like If Indiana Jones Had Been An Economist, they were parents of 6 children under the ages of 5 between them, including a little girl adopted from China, when they wrote the book. It was in a support group of grieving parents after Levitt lost a one year old to pneumococcal meningitis that Levitt had been struck by how many drownings were in the group and went on to research why parents fear certain things yet often it’s others that prove deadly (ie they are bad risk assessors) – it’s why a single case of mad cow in 2004 caused anti-beef frenzy whereas kitchen bacteria from raw meat and fish on counter surfaces (which can also kill and is a lot more common) doesn’t make headlines. Also why we have very few dish rags in our home, in place of kitchen paper towels… (Forgive me! I’ll… buy more recycled goods and make more donations to environmental causes! I just don’t trust helpers to easily follow sanitizing instructions)

Running regression analysis on data from the US Department of Education’s Early Childhood Longitudinal Study (ECLS) measuring the academic progress of kindergartners – 5th graders in the late 90s, L&D sought to find factors correlated with high test scores and factors that well, seem to have had no effect. (And I’m just blogging this to force myself to digest it so if this is boring then see you next post!)

High Correlation Factors (roughly, Stuff That Matters To High Academic Test Scores):

  1. Highly educated parents
  2. Parents with high socio-economic status
  3. Mum is 30 or older at time of first child (as opposed to say a teen mum, implying wish to further education /career before having a child)
  4. Child had low birthweight (of the sort that implies mum didn’t take care of herself during pregnancy, either by smoking or drinking etc)
  5. Parents speak English at home (probably not applicable in Asian context, this was a study of US kids and it was English vs say, Hispanic languages)
  6. Child is adopted (referring to hereditary IQ – L&D would however go on to quote The Nature and Nurture of Economic Outcomes’ use of US and British adoption studies to elaborate how by the time they reached adulthood however, adopted children would have veered sharply toward their adoptive parents’ influence)
  7. Parents involved in PTA (qualified as parents taking a strong interest in education rather than parents’ involvement somehow producing better test results)
  8. Child has many books at home

Low Correlation Factors:

  1. Child’s family intact
  2. Parents recently moved to better neighborhood
  3. Mum didn’t work from birth to Kindergarten
  4. Child attended Head Start
  5. Parents regularly take the child to museums
  6. Child is regularly spanked
  7. Child frequently watches tv (Finnish education system cited as example – one of the best in the world, yet beginning formal education relatively late at age 7. Except by then most children had taught themselves to read via subtitles while watching American tv)
  8. Child’s parents read to him almost every day

L&D observed that the factors that mattered were not what parents did, so much as who they were, and that technique in itself is overrated.

Affirmation: When the Chicago Public School System allowed students to apply to virtually any public school rather than the one in their own neighborhood, as predicted the schools with the best test scores were insanely oversubscribed. So they resorted to awarding places via lottery. Lottery implies random allotment to equally qualified candidates. (Kind of like when you have rabidly oversubscribed exclusive international schools in Hong Kong. I mean seriously, yes your child must be excellent to pass the screening but there are also many excellent children who might have a bad interview day or are simply missed because of the sheer massive oversubscription or might do better in a different system?)

Here’s why I think so – CPS students who won the lottery did no better than the ones who didn’t. The key was whether they applied for the lottery in the first place, ie whether they were the kinds of students who were serious about education to begin with. I like to think that and “PTA involvement” also implies whether you follow the instructions and learning suggestions in the weekly emails or notes etc they give you… (They give you notes, right?)

Schools are the “experts” at their various educational packages and offerings, you are the “expert” at which environment your child will thrive in. (And then if you find it a good fit you follow their instructions right?)

Conclusion: Stop freaking out about whether you are picking the “wrong” parenting method. If you were the kind of parent who bothered to research it and then start worrying about it, you probably fit the profile of the kind of parent whose child would have tested well anyway.

 

There's a Movie?

As in, rather than open-can-apply-this-or-that-conventional-wisdom you were probably tailoring your decisions to suit your child. It wasn’t any one decision to switch off the tv, read daily to your child. But then that was never what parenting was to begin with, was it?

 

 

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Meet Doobie

Posted on May 15, 2011 by admin

 

Doobie's A "Do"!

Meet Doobie, out for a roll Sunday evening in Sai Kung. She’s 15-and-a-half years old and not so good on her legs anymore (her owner explained she can still walk, just not for longer distances) so she gets rolled around on a cart for longer outings.

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Could you get into this Shanghai primary school?

Posted on May 15, 2011 by admin

Apparently these are test questions for entry into a primary school in Shanghai (I took out the chinese slides that said “Welcome to…” This document has been making the rounds among banking friends with comments, “We should screen our interns with this!”

Happy Monday! Aren’t you proud decades ago you got into your primary school!

(Uh you did, didn’t you? :D)

 

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