Melissa Lowry's Smartypantzed Blog

This article pretty much speaks for itself.  And until bullying programs and school policies (I mentioned this in a post from earlier this week) address the parental element that is virtually always present in bullying cases (i.e. parents encourage it, are abusive, have no idea what is going on w/their child, etc.), no program will be truly effective in combating the problem.  Education, in all forms, begins at home.

Now PARENTS use websites to abuse teachers: Guidelines issued to combat online bullying

By Catherine Eade

Parents are inceasingly using social networking sites to bully and undermine teachers as well as pupils, new research shows.

With an increasing number of teachers reporting online abuse, the National Association of Headteachers (NAHT) says that members should be prepared to take action if parents have made potentially libellous comments on websites.

The NAHT says it receives hundreds of calls every week from teachers who are being ‘cyberbullied’ – and the majority of complaints are about parents using the web to criticise teachers or heads.

In 2009, research by the Association of Teachers and Lecturers (ATL) and the Teacher Support Network suggested 15% of teachers had experienced cyberbullying, and it is believed this figure is growing.

NAHT general secretary Russell Hobby says: ‘Parents have a right to express their views and complaints should be heard. Schools can only benefit from constructive feedback.

‘Too often, though, social networking sites are a medium for the unreasonable and the unprincipled, and have a momentum out of all proportion to reality.’

The NAHT has now updated its guidance for teachers who think they are being bullied by pupils or parents.

It tells them how to contact various websites if they have been targeted and gives tips on how teachers should manage personal accounts.

It also urges headteachers to have clear rules about social networking sites.
Facebook is one of the sites where parents are known to have posted comments.

One parent who didn’t want to be named admitted she used her Facebook page to write about the behaviour policy at her childrens’ school, having repeatedly failed to get an appointment with the headmistress about her son being bullied.

She took out her frustrations on her Facebook page until the school warned her of legal action if her comments became libellous.

A spokesman from Facebook said: ‘These online discussions are simply a reflection of what is happening offline. Facebook has worked hard to develop reporting mechanisms that enable people to report offensive content.’

Facebook says it disables any accounts that are found to breach its rules on bullying and harrassment by intimidating others.

One English teacher in the West Midlands told the ATL: ‘I found teaching stressful already but when it got to the point where I was getting home and finding messages about me on social networking sites, or horrible photos on my computer I couldn’t cope.’

The ATL says that one teacher had a fake Facebook account set up in his name containing false sexual allegations.

Another teacher suffered stress after a video of her teaching appeared on YouTube.

The 2009 ATL research showed that 63% of teachers who had suffered cyberbullying personally said they had received unwelcome emails. Over a quarter had had offensive messages posted about them on social networking sites such as Facebook and 28% described being sent unwelcome text messages.

A 24-hour counselling helpline called Teacherline set up in October 1999 for stressed teachers in England and Wales now receives thousands of calls a month.

Teacherline reports that teachers are four times more likely to experience stress at work than employees in other professions.

Teacher Support Network is another organisation which says it has seen a marked increase in calls and emails from teachers who have experienced online abuse.

More than a third of teachers who have reported cyber bullying say it has reduced their confidence and self-esteem.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1346229/Parents-use-Facebook-abuse-teachers-NAHT-issue-guidelines-combat-online-bullying.html#ixzz1ApgcEwBU

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I am posting this for those of you who would like to see a polar opposite approach to Tiger Mom.  My commentary follows the article.

Editor’s note: Erika Christakis, MEd, MPH, is an early childhood teacher and former preschool director. Nicholas Christakis, MD, PhD, is a professor of medicine and sociology at Harvard University. Together, they serve as Masters of Pforzheimer House, one of the undergraduate residential houses at Harvard College.

(CNN) — Every day where we work, we see our young students struggling with the transition from home to school. They’re all wonderful kids, but some can’t share easily or listen in a group.

Some have impulse control problems and have trouble keeping their hands to themselves; others don’t always see that actions have consequences; a few suffer terribly from separation anxiety.

We’re not talking about preschool children. These are Harvard undergraduate students whom we teach and advise. They all know how to work, but some of them haven’t learned how to play.

Parents, educators, psychologists, neuroscientists, and politicians generally fall into one of two camps when it comes to preparing very young children for school: play-based or skills-based.

These two kinds of curricula are often pitted against one another as a zero-sum game: If you want to protect your daughter’s childhood, so the argument goes, choose a play-based program; but if you want her to get into Harvard, you’d better make sure you’re brushing up on the ABC flashcards every night before bed.

We think it is quite the reverse. Or, in any case, if you want your child to succeed in college, the play-based curriculum is the way to go.

In fact, we wonder why play is not encouraged in educational periods later in the developmental life of young people — giving kids more practice as they get closer to the ages of our students.

Why do this? One of the best predictors of school success is the ability to control impulses. Children who can control their impulse to be the center of the universe, and — relatedly — who can assume the perspective of another person, are better equipped to learn.

Psychologists calls this the “theory of mind”: the ability to recognize that our own ideas, beliefs, and desires are distinct from those of the people around us. When a four-year-old destroys someone’s carefully constructed block castle or a 20-year-old belligerently monopolizes the class discussion on a routine basis, we might conclude that they are unaware of the feelings of the people around them.

The beauty of a play-based curriculum is that very young children can routinely observe and learn from others’ emotions and experiences. Skills-based curricula, on the other hand, are sometimes derisively known as “drill and kill” programs because most teachers understand that young children can’t learn meaningfully in the social isolation required for such an approach.

How do these approaches look different in a classroom? Preschoolers in both kinds of programs might learn about hibernating squirrels, for example, but in the skills-based program, the child could be asked to fill out a worksheet, counting (or guessing) the number of nuts in a basket and coloring the squirrel’s fur.

In a play-based curriculum, by contrast, a child might hear stories about squirrels and be asked why a squirrel accumulates nuts or has fur. The child might then collaborate with peers in the construction of a squirrel habitat, learning not only about number sense, measurement, and other principles needed for engineering, but also about how to listen to, and express, ideas.

The child filling out the worksheet is engaged in a more one-dimensional task, but the child in the play-based program interacts meaningfully with peers, materials, and ideas.

Programs centered around constructive, teacher-moderated play are very effective. For instance, one randomized, controlled trial had 4- and 5-year-olds engage in make-believe play with adults and found substantial and durable gains in the ability of children to show self-control and to delay gratification. Countless other studies support the association between dramatic play and self-regulation.

Through play, children learn to take turns, delay gratification, negotiate conflicts, solve problems, share goals, acquire flexibility, and live with disappointment. By allowing children to imagine walking in another person’s shoes, imaginative play also seeds the development of empathy, a key ingredient for intellectual and social-emotional success.

The real “readiness” skills that make for an academically successful kindergartener or college student have as much to do with emotional intelligence as they do with academic preparation. Kindergartners need to know not just sight words and lower case letters, but how to search for meaning. The same is true of 18-year-olds.

As admissions officers at selective colleges like to say, an entire freshman class could be filled with students with perfect grades and test scores. But academic achievement in college requires readiness skills that transcend mere book learning. It requires the ability to engage actively with people and ideas. In short, it requires a deep connection with the world.

For a five year-old, this connection begins and ends with the creating, questioning, imitating, dreaming, and sharing that characterize play. When we deny young children play, we are denying them the right to understand the world. By the time they get to college, we will have denied them the opportunity to fix the world too.

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Erika and Nicholas Christakis.

SmartyPantz Commentary

I am currently working on another post regarding Tiger Mom, so I will refrain from discussing her in this one.  I posted this article because I think the authors do a great job of outlining and unpacking how/why play based and developmental programs work well and can certainly teach kids skills that are on par or superior to those in primarily academic settings.  As a teacher who has worked with students age 3 through middle school, I have witnessed a myriad of teaching styles/methods.  Based on my experience, professional philosophy and the research I have reviewed, I agree that play based and developmental approaches to learning in early childhood programs are the best way to open children’s minds, hearts and imaginations to the world of formal school.

The emphasis, however, should be placed primarily on the developmental readiness level of the students as opposed to a program simply offering a play based curriculum.  Teaching geometry to pre-Kindergarten students would prove fruitless.  However, introducing them to patterning, a building block to geometry, would be appropriate and provide students with an experience they can both comprehend and use as a building block to future learning (otherwise known as scaffolding).  I highly suggest visiting www.gesellinstitute.org for additional information on developmental readiness, especially those parents who are contemplating Kindergarten for their child in the next year or two.

It’s not chronological age, but a child’s developmental age that really points to whether or not he/she is ready to take on the pressure of school.  And, yes, Kindergarten is pressure filled for children and can cause them stress if they are misplaced.  One of the most poignant stories I have to illustrate this point comes from a colleague of mine who taught Kindergarten for over 18 years.  She had a student who was not developmentally ready for Kindergarten and struggled throughout the year.  He just kept repeating that school wasn’t fun.  At the end of the year a group decision, with the consent of his parents, was made to retain him in Kindergarten for a second year.  The following year, a few months into school, this young man bounded up to my colleague and exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me last year that Kindergarten could be so fun!”  It was clear this young man was now in the correct place, regardless of his chronological age.

I could go on for days, but I won’t put you through the pain.  In addition to Gesell, I did write a lesson in Answer Keys:  Teachers’ Lessons for Successful Parenting (my shameless plug of the day-  www.theanswerkeys.com) entitled, Developmental Readiness:  Is My Child Ready for School? Parents need all the tools they can get to help them make strong decisions on behalf of their kids.  I hope this information is helpful.  Please feel free to send me questions, as I am happy to answer them or point you in the right direction.  Happy learning!

 

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From the WSJ online edition.  My commentary is at the end.

By AMY CHUA

A lot of people wonder how Chinese parents raise such stereotypically successful kids. They wonder what these parents do to produce so many math whizzes and music prodigies, what it’s like inside the family, and whether they could do it too. Well, I can tell them, because I’ve done it. Here are some things my daughters, Sophia and Louisa, were never allowed to do:

• attend a sleepover

• have a playdate

• be in a school play

• complain about not being in a school play

• watch TV or play computer games

• choose their own extracurricular activities

• get any grade less than an A

• not be the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama

• play any instrument other than the piano or violin

• not play the piano or violin.

I’m using the term “Chinese mother” loosely. I know some Korean, Indian, Jamaican, Irish and Ghanaian parents who qualify too. Conversely, I know some mothers of Chinese heritage, almost always born in the West, who are not Chinese mothers, by choice or otherwise. I’m also using the term “Western parents” loosely. Western parents come in all varieties.

All the same, even when Western parents think they’re being strict, they usually don’t come close to being Chinese mothers. For example, my Western friends who consider themselves strict make their children practice their instruments 30 minutes every day. An hour at most. For a Chinese mother, the first hour is the easy part. It’s hours two and three that get tough.

Despite our squeamishness about cultural stereotypes, there are tons of studies out there showing marked and quantifiable differences between Chinese and Westerners when it comes to parenting. In one study of 50 Western American mothers and 48 Chinese immigrant mothers, almost 70% of the Western mothers said either that “stressing academic success is not good for children” or that “parents need to foster the idea that learning is fun.” By contrast, roughly 0% of the Chinese mothers felt the same way. Instead, the vast majority of the Chinese mothers said that they believe their children can be “the best” students, that “academic achievement reflects successful parenting,” and that if children did not excel at school then there was “a problem” and parents “were not doing their job.” Other studies indicate that compared to Western parents, Chinese parents spend approximately 10 times as long every day drilling academic activities with their children. By contrast, Western kids are more likely to participate in sports teams.

What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you’re good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences. This often requires fortitude on the part of the parents because the child will resist; things are always hardest at the beginning, which is where Western parents tend to give up. But if done properly, the Chinese strategy produces a virtuous circle. Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence; rote repetition is underrated in America. Once a child starts to excel at something—whether it’s math, piano, pitching or ballet—he or she gets praise, admiration and satisfaction. This builds confidence and makes the once not-fun activity fun. This in turn makes it easier for the parent to get the child to work even more.

Chinese parents can get away with things that Western parents can’t. Once when I was young—maybe more than once—when I was extremely disrespectful to my mother, my father angrily called me “garbage” in our native Hokkien dialect. It worked really well. I felt terrible and deeply ashamed of what I had done. But it didn’t damage my self-esteem or anything like that. I knew exactly how highly he thought of me. I didn’t actually think I was worthless or feel like a piece of garbage.

As an adult, I once did the same thing to Sophia, calling her garbage in English when she acted extremely disrespectfully toward me. When I mentioned that I had done this at a dinner party, I was immediately ostracized. One guest named Marcy got so upset she broke down in tears and had to leave early. My friend Susan, the host, tried to rehabilitate me with the remaining guests.

The fact is that Chinese parents can do things that would seem unimaginable—even legally actionable—to Westerners. Chinese mothers can say to their daughters, “Hey fatty—lose some weight.” By contrast, Western parents have to tiptoe around the issue, talking in terms of “health” and never ever mentioning the f-word, and their kids still end up in therapy for eating disorders and negative self-image. (I also once heard a Western father toast his adult daughter by calling her “beautiful and incredibly competent.” She later told me that made her feel like garbage.)

Chinese parents can order their kids to get straight As. Western parents can only ask their kids to try their best. Chinese parents can say, “You’re lazy. All your classmates are getting ahead of you.” By contrast, Western parents have to struggle with their own conflicted feelings about achievement, and try to persuade themselves that they’re not disappointed about how their kids turned out.

I’ve thought long and hard about how Chinese parents can get away with what they do. I think there are three big differences between the Chinese and Western parental mind-sets.

 

First, I’ve noticed that Western parents are extremely anxious about their children’s self-esteem. They worry about how their children will feel if they fail at something, and they constantly try to reassure their children about how good they are notwithstanding a mediocre performance on a test or at a recital. In other words, Western parents are concerned about their children’s psyches. Chinese parents aren’t. They assume strength, not fragility, and as a result they behave very differently.

For example, if a child comes home with an A-minus on a test, a Western parent will most likely praise the child. The Chinese mother will gasp in horror and ask what went wrong. If the child comes home with a B on the test, some Western parents will still praise the child. Other Western parents will sit their child down and express disapproval, but they will be careful not to make their child feel inadequate or insecure, and they will not call their child “stupid,” “worthless” or “a disgrace.” Privately, the Western parents may worry that their child does not test well or have aptitude in the subject or that there is something wrong with the curriculum and possibly the whole school. If the child’s grades do not improve, they may eventually schedule a meeting with the school principal to challenge the way the subject is being taught or to call into question the teacher’s credentials.

If a Chinese child gets a B—which would never happen—there would first be a screaming, hair-tearing explosion. The devastated Chinese mother would then get dozens, maybe hundreds of practice tests and work through them with her child for as long as it takes to get the grade up to an A.

Chinese parents demand perfect grades because they believe that their child can get them. If their child doesn’t get them, the Chinese parent assumes it’s because the child didn’t work hard enough. That’s why the solution to substandard performance is always to excoriate, punish and shame the child. The Chinese parent believes that their child will be strong enough to take the shaming and to improve from it. (And when Chinese kids do excel, there is plenty of ego-inflating parental praise lavished in the privacy of the home.)

Second, Chinese parents believe that their kids owe them everything. The reason for this is a little unclear, but it’s probably a combination of Confucian filial piety and the fact that the parents have sacrificed and done so much for their children. (And it’s true that Chinese mothers get in the trenches, putting in long grueling hours personally tutoring, training, interrogating and spying on their kids.) Anyway, the understanding is that Chinese children must spend their lives repaying their parents by obeying them and making them proud.

By contrast, I don’t think most Westerners have the same view of children being permanently indebted to their parents. My husband, Jed, actually has the opposite view. “Children don’t choose their parents,” he once said to me. “They don’t even choose to be born. It’s parents who foist life on their kids, so it’s the parents’ responsibility to provide for them. Kids don’t owe their parents anything. Their duty will be to their own kids.” This strikes me as a terrible deal for the Western parent.

Third, Chinese parents believe that they know what is best for their children and therefore override all of their children’s own desires and preferences. That’s why Chinese daughters can’t have boyfriends in high school and why Chinese kids can’t go to sleepaway camp. It’s also why no Chinese kid would ever dare say to their mother, “I got a part in the school play! I’m Villager Number Six. I’ll have to stay after school for rehearsal every day from 3:00 to 7:00, and I’ll also need a ride on weekends.” God help any Chinese kid who tried that one.

Don’t get me wrong: It’s not that Chinese parents don’t care about their children. Just the opposite. They would give up anything for their children. It’s just an entirely different parenting model.

Here’s a story in favor of coercion, Chinese-style. Lulu was about 7, still playing two instruments, and working on a piano piece called “The Little White Donkey” by the French composer Jacques Ibert. The piece is really cute—you can just imagine a little donkey ambling along a country road with its master—but it’s also incredibly difficult for young players because the two hands have to keep schizophrenically different rhythms.

Lulu couldn’t do it. We worked on it nonstop for a week, drilling each of her hands separately, over and over. But whenever we tried putting the hands together, one always morphed into the other, and everything fell apart. Finally, the day before her lesson, Lulu announced in exasperation that she was giving up and stomped off.

“Get back to the piano now,” I ordered.

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh yes, I can.”

Back at the piano, Lulu made me pay. She punched, thrashed and kicked. She grabbed the music score and tore it to shreds. I taped the score back together and encased it in a plastic shield so that it could never be destroyed again. Then I hauled Lulu’s dollhouse to the car and told her I’d donate it to the Salvation Army piece by piece if she didn’t have “The Little White Donkey” perfect by the next day. When Lulu said, “I thought you were going to the Salvation Army, why are you still here?” I threatened her with no lunch, no dinner, no Christmas or Hanukkah presents, no birthday parties for two, three, four years. When she still kept playing it wrong, I told her she was purposely working herself into a frenzy because she was secretly afraid she couldn’t do it. I told her to stop being lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent and pathetic.

Jed took me aside. He told me to stop insulting Lulu—which I wasn’t even doing, I was just motivating her—and that he didn’t think threatening Lulu was helpful. Also, he said, maybe Lulu really just couldn’t do the technique—perhaps she didn’t have the coordination yet—had I considered that possibility?

“You just don’t believe in her,” I accused.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jed said scornfully. “Of course I do.”

“Sophia could play the piece when she was this age.”

“But Lulu and Sophia are different people,” Jed pointed out.

“Oh no, not this,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Everyone is special in their special own way,” I mimicked sarcastically. “Even losers are special in their own special way. Well don’t worry, you don’t have to lift a finger. I’m willing to put in as long as it takes, and I’m happy to be the one hated. And you can be the one they adore because you make them pancakes and take them to Yankees games.”

I rolled up my sleeves and went back to Lulu. I used every weapon and tactic I could think of. We worked right through dinner into the night, and I wouldn’t let Lulu get up, not for water, not even to go to the bathroom. The house became a war zone, and I lost my voice yelling, but still there seemed to be only negative progress, and even I began to have doubts.

Then, out of the blue, Lulu did it. Her hands suddenly came together—her right and left hands each doing their own imperturbable thing—just like that.

Lulu realized it the same time I did. I held my breath. She tried it tentatively again. Then she played it more confidently and faster, and still the rhythm held. A moment later, she was beaming.

“Mommy, look—it’s easy!” After that, she wanted to play the piece over and over and wouldn’t leave the piano. That night, she came to sleep in my bed, and we snuggled and hugged, cracking each other up. When she performed “The Little White Donkey” at a recital a few weeks later, parents came up to me and said, “What a perfect piece for Lulu—it’s so spunky and so her.”

Even Jed gave me credit for that one. Western parents worry a lot about their children’s self-esteem. But as a parent, one of the worst things you can do for your child’s self-esteem is to let them give up. On the flip side, there’s nothing better for building confidence than learning you can do something you thought you couldn’t.

There are all these new books out there portraying Asian mothers as scheming, callous, overdriven people indifferent to their kids’ true interests. For their part, many Chinese secretly believe that they care more about their children and are willing to sacrifice much more for them than Westerners, who seem perfectly content to let their children turn out badly. I think it’s a misunderstanding on both sides. All decent parents want to do what’s best for their children. The Chinese just have a totally different idea of how to do that.

Western parents try to respect their children’s individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they’re capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away.

Smarypantz Commentary

Although the examples and language the author uses in this article may seem harsh, her underlying sentiment is largely mirrored in the The Price of Privilege by Madeline Levine.  In her book, Levine talks of counseling scores of students who are miserable, even though the “have everything.”  She concludes that the bulk of students she works with have no idea what it means to work hard, fail on their own, nor have they developed a healthy sense of self-worth.  Because their parents always give them everything, fight their battles and shield them from life’s harsh realities, they never develop authentic self esteem; something the article’s author speaks about as well.

As Caucasian parents (and of course I’m generalizing here although studies show this) are much too concerned with whether our children are “happy” and not whether or not they actually achieve anything.  We can’t make our kids happy.  We can only give them the tools to face adversity, deal with life’s realities and learn to create their own success.

I have a child who plays both the violin and piano, and while I do not picture myself being quite as harsh with her when she’s struggling, I am not aghast by the author’s approach.  I think we could learn a lot from the discipline and respect taught in other cultures, in addition to the idea that mom and dad are actually in charge.

I really want to know what you think?

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If you keep up w/my blog, you know that I recently posted a commentary about the pitfalls of a pressure-filled Christmas.  Creating and maintaining certain holiday traditions is often difficult and daunting, ruining the fun those very traditions were supposed to create!  We began our “gifts for Santa” tradition when McKenna was 4.  This will be our third year, and Mac is now old enough to join us in the spirit of giving too.

Each Christmas our children choose one of their toys, and not one of the old, ratty ones, to leave under the tree for Santa.  The idea is that when Santa leaves new gifts, he also takes a toy to pass along to another boy or girl.  This activity doesn’t require decorating, cooking, building a paper mache manger or ice sculptures.  It simply requires a bit of time and a family desire to learn more about the art of giving.

Yes- it’s a bit difficult the first year and with younger children (I would not start before 3, and only if that child is a younger sibling.  4 worked well for our first born).  However, spending time going through your child’s toys with him/her and taking the time to talk about those who have and those who don’t, will help make giving a habit for your child.  McKenna Kate takes several days to really choose something that is still meaningful to her, but that she feels will make another boy or girl very happy.  I think Mac will struggle this year, but I think the act of giving, especially because it will be difficult, will be a good learning opportunity for him.

Mom and dad can join in the giving fun too by choosing something to leave for Santa.  I haven’t chatted with my husband yet, but I plan to leave Santa a pair of boots I purchased last year.  They are in great condition, and I do still wear them on occasion.  However, our family is blessed, and the boots are more a want than a need.  I have other pairs, while many have no shoes at all.

I hope this little tradition sounds like it could work for your family.  Sometimes it is the little things that have the biggest and longest lasting impact.

Merry Christmas and happy gifting!

P.S.  If you’re wondering what Santa does with the gifts from under the tree, he wraps them in a garbage bag and puts them in the garage.  When the coast is clear, he delivers them to the Salvation Army or another charitable organization.

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