An Informational Blog for Parents, Faculty and Staff
We are delighted to share a Lower School Blog, intended to be a resource for parents, faculty, and staff -- including a variety of educational and parenting articles, book reviews and research, as well as some links to school-related and Lower School activities. We hope you’ll enjoy it.
Research on Children and Math: Underestimated and Unchallenged
John Konstantaras/Chicago News CooperativeAided by the Erikson Institute, Cyndi Lopardo includes early math in her preschool classes at Onahan Elementary in Chicago.
We hear a lot about how American students lag
behind their international peers academically, especially in subjects
like math. In the most recent Program for International Student
Assessment, commonly known as PISA, students in the United States ranked
26th out of 34 countries in mathematics. On the surface, it would seem
that we’re a nation of math dullards; simply no good at the subject. But
a spate of new research suggests that we may be underestimating our
students, especially the youngest ones, in terms of their ability to
think about numbers.
A study published
in the April issue of the American Educational Research Journal, for
example, finds that kindergarten students learn more when they are
exposed to challenging content such as advanced number concepts and even
addition and subtraction. In turn, elementary school students who were
taught more sophisticated math as kindergarteners made bigger gains in
mathematics, reported the study’s lead author, Amy Claessens of the
University of Chicago.
Another study,
published last year by Dr. Claessens with co-authors Mimi Engel and
Maida Finch, concluded that as things stand, many children in
kindergarten are being taught information they already know. The “vast
majority” of kindergarteners have already mastered counting numbers and
recognizing shapes before they set foot in the classroom, Dr. Claessens
and her co-authors noted, yet kindergarten teachers report spending much
of their math teaching time on these skills.
The students don’t gain anything from going
over familiar ground: In the article published this month, Dr. Claessens
and her colleagues report that pupils do not benefit from basic content
coverage, but that all the kindergarteners in the study, regardless of
economic background or initial skill level, did benefit from exposure to
more advanced content.
Discussions about how to improve learning for
young children usually focus on the length of the whole school day or
the number of students in classes, but rarely on what is taught during
the hours school is in session. Increasing the time kindergarten
teachers spend on more advanced math concepts may be a simpler and more
cost-effective way to boost learning.
What about the play and the social
interaction that is so important for young kids? The researchers note
that time for such activities could easily be preserved by replacing
instruction on basic math concepts with the teaching of more
sophisticated ones — especially in light of the finding that students
aren’t benefiting from such basic coverage anyway. Kindergarteners could
be tackling more challenging math ideas while still spending plenty of
time in the blocks corner and the dress-up closet.
Young students are ready to learn more
advanced math concepts, as long as they are presented in an engaging,
developmentally appropriate way. The next time we lament the performance
of older American students, we could think instead about how to improve
the math instruction given to their younger brothers and sisters.
Girls Do Better Than Boys in School at All Ages and Subjects, Study Finds
By Maggie Fox
It may come as no surprise to teachers, but girls do better than boys in school, a new study finds.
What may be a surprise
is that this holds true at all ages, in all subjects including math and
science and around the world, the American Psychological Association analysis found.
And contrary to common
wisdom that girls start to “dumb down” in middle school, their advantage
in math and science actually starts to really show up at that age,
Daniel Voyer and Susan Voyer of the University of New Brunswick in
Canada found.
They did what’s called a
meta-analysis, combining data from many different published studies.
They ended up with details on more than a million boys and girls in more
than 300 studies done across the world, including the U.S., Canada, Europe, the Middle East and Asia.
The pattern has held
true since 1914 — girls get better grades than boys in all subjects.
They excluded one-time tests like the Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT).
From elementary school
through graduate school, females have a distinct advantage in grades,
they found. The differences are the biggest in language and the smallest
in math, but even in math girls and young women get better grades on
average, the analysis found.
“This contrast in
findings makes it clear that the generalized nature of the female
advantage in school marks contradicts the popular stereotypes that
females excel in language whereas males excel in math and science,” the
researchers wrote.
It’s not clear why. It
could be that girls are more likely to try to truly master the material,
while boys focus on the big score of doing well on final exams or
aptitude tests, the researchers said. It’s also possible that parents
expect girls to do poorly and encourage them more. There’s also the
popular theory that girls find it easier than boys to sit still and
concentrate in class, or at least to behave in a way that pleases
teachers.
"The fact that females
generally perform better than their male counterparts throughout what is
essentially mandatory schooling in most countries seems to be a
well-kept secret, considering how little attention it has received as a
global phenomenon," Susan Voyer concluded.
MY
son has been having conversations with imaginary characters. I know,
because I can listen to some of them, and even see pictures.
The
children’s entertainment publisher ToyTalk created an interactive
program, the Winston Show, and as my son talks back to the characters in
that show, I get emails with subject lines like, “Your kid said
something awesome.”
I
can sign into my account and find multiple sound files and screenshots
of him having a conversation with an imaginary character from a show
he’s been watching on his iPad. It’s adorable, and it’s the interactive
future of tablet-based television.
Tablets
and phones are an increasingly common way for children to consume
television. And that is changing the way content developers and even
advertisers try to reach children in new locations.
The
Winston Show is an example of the innovative new content types that are
possible when a TV is also a hand-held computer. It’s an iPad-only
production, available as a free app, that is now in its second
four-episode “season.”
The
company, based in San Francisco, was founded by two Pixar veterans,
Oren Jacob and Martin Reddy, with the goal of providing interactive
children’s programming. As youngsters watch the show, the characters ask
them questions; when they respond, the app uses speech recognition to
interpret their answers, which then help drive the story line of each
episode. The shows even use the front-facing camera to engage children
in, say, trying on a character-appropriate hat.
The
Winston Show has no ads, and ToyTalk said it hoped eventually to make
money by licensing its technology to generate multiple story lines and
recognize children’s speech.
ToyTalk
was developed for the iPad, Mr. Jacob said, because it was a device
that combines the way children want to watch television with the tools
necessary for the Winston Show experience: a camera, a microphone and a
touch screen (to activate the mike).
“I
think that children want to be in control of what they watch and what
they interact with,” Mr. Jacob said. “That happens by giving them a
device they’re in control of. That puts the choice of what they do in
their own hands.”
Hard
data on children’s viewing habits is hard to come by, because the
Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act requires parental consent for
data collection.
But
anecdotally, most parents would say their children watch increasing
amounts of television on tablets, and a look around any airplane,
restaurant or living room says tablet viewing is a big deal. The
research firm Forrester found that of children ages 12 to 17 who
regularly use a tablet, 42 percent are streaming video or TV from sites
like Netflix or YouTube, and 39 percent are watching TV programming
stored on the device.
The
Winston Show is the only one of its kind, but traditional publishers
are also looking for new ways to reach children when they’re not in
front of TVs.
The Cartoon Network of Turner Broadcasting just announced a new mobile phone app
it is calling a “micro-network,” aimed at bringing original content to
four-inch screens, as a way to be wherever youngsters are. Publishers
like Nickelodeon and PBS offer clips, games and episodes with apps, and
DreamWorks Animation is working to develop a branded tablet, the DreamTab, that would deliver DreamWorks content in a child-friendly design.
These
models have advantages for parents. Mobile devices are easy to apply
parental controls to. They’re portable, and they can deliver educational
apps and books in addition to TV.
But
they also raise questions about data collection, privacy, in-app
purchasing and how exactly content publishers will make money in a world
without commercials.
No
doubt, my son’s experience with TV, movies and games meant for children
is already far different from my own. And he’s not unique.
“Right
now, the two biggest streaming devices for kids in the Netflix
ecosystem are tablets and smart TVs, and they are neck and neck,” said
Todd Yellin, Netflix’s vice president of product innovation.
Children’s
content is so important at Netflix, Mr. Yellin said, that the company
just hired a product development boss specifically focused on it. The
lack of commercials is a point of pride, especially in children’s
programming, Mr. Yellin said.
“It’s
one thing if you’re a grown-up and you know that’s a commercial, but
kids merge the commercials with the entertainment content,” he said. “To
be able to tell the difference isn’t as easy as we think.”
It
may become even more difficult, some experts say, as companies try to
innovate to find children across their various devices.
Cross-promotional, embedded digital ads and product placement
advertising is becoming more typical, according to Common Sense Media.
In a recent study,
the group said it was difficult to measure the impact of digital ad
trends on children. Exposure to online ads, and advertising in video
games and through branded sites that cross-promote shows with toys is
probably very high, the report said, and more study is needed.
For
original programming publishers like Cartoon Network, the shift in
viewing behavior means combining traditional television programming with
figuring out how to engage viewers on completely new platforms — a challenge facing all publishers, children’s or otherwise.
“We’re
not just figuring out what to program onto these devices,” said Chris
Waldron, vice president of Cartoon Network Digital. “We’re figuring out
the interface, how it should be constructed, and it’s basically as if
we’re going back in time and inventing the television set, and inventing
the cable network.”
Back
at ToyTalk, inventing a new kind of interactive content is a technical
challenge on a couple of levels. First, writing episodes with multiple
potential story lines per character is a remarkable creative feat. The
show’s writers script “thousands” of possible responses, ToyTalk’s Mr.
Jacob said.
Second,
he said, the company is building “speech recognition for kids, which no
one’s built before.” The better the speech recognition, the more
realistic the character interaction.
One
note for parents: To improve the speech recognition, ToyTalk collects
recordings of your child as he or she interacts with the characters.
That’s also how you get the recorded snippets, which come complete with
little screenshots of your child in action.
I
admit, this made me uncomfortable at first, although it’s clearly
disclosed in the activation email you receive when you sign up for a
ToyTalk account. It’s still disconcerting to know an app is recording
everything your child says, along with photos — and that ToyTalk
employees are listening to transcripts to improve their product.
But
the end result is a good show. My son, age 7, loved interacting with
the Winston Show, and can’t wait for new episodes. And I liked getting
his little recordings in email, too. Sometimes oversharing has its
purpose.
Also,
if you’re a parent who chooses to allow screen time for your child,
it’s somehow more comforting to watch a child truly interacting and
imagining along with a show, instead of passively staring at the screen.
If
children are the testing ground for new models of content, advertising
and device-specific behavior, it’s because this generation is fluent in a
panoply of devices.
“There’s
a fluidity going back from the television to the tablet to the phone,”
Mr. Waldron of Cartoon Network said. “As long as they’re comfortable
moving back and forth, that’s good for us, too. Our job is to entertain
them on whatever device they happen to enjoy our content on.”
I
don’t know about yours, but my bedtime reading does not generally —
ever, actually — include books about falling asleep. This should seem
strange only to young children, for whom the provision of books about
sleeping and not sleeping has captured a large slice of the picture book
market. Dr. Robert Needlman, who revised and updated Dr. Benjamin
Spock’s “Baby and Child Care,” once told me that the purpose of bedtime
stories is to give the imagination a kind of way station between
wakefulness and sleep that facilitates an easier slip into
unconsciousness. (We were talking about young children, but I think this
goes for all of us.) So books for bedtime, sure. But why about?
Four new books, swaddled in practically identical shades of sleepy-time
blue, attempt to make a case for the genre. Some do a better job than
others.
“Goodnight
Songs” is a collection of verses, most previously unpublished, by
Margaret Wise Brown — herself of course the author of the bedtime
classic “Goodnight Moon,” itself the progenitor of countless imitators
eager to become the next baby shower staple. This collection won’t be it
— where “Goodnight Moon” is all concentrated strangeness and mystery,
the poems in “Goodnight Songs” are individually repetitive and
carelessly developed sprouts of whimsy. With each of the 12 selections
illustrated by a different children’s book artist — including Sophie
Blackall, Dan Yaccarino, Eric Puybaret and Melissa Sweet — the book
lurches more than progresses from spread to spread. According to an
editor’s note, Brown had conceived these poems as song lyrics, and a
compact disc of pallid but grating renditions is duly included in the
kind of package that suggests you’re getting more for your money than
you actually are.
From
the Italian team of the writer Giovanna Zoboli and the illustrator
Simona Mulazzani, and translated by Antony Shugaar, “The Big Book of
Slumber” is a humbler and more consistent effort, cataloging in rhyme
and picture the sleeping arrangements of an entirely peaceable kingdom.
Fancifully so, what with the camels in bunk beds and doves on the chaise
longue. The juxtapositions are funny but unfrantic, gentled by the
sweet couplets (“Dormouse and badger in beds side by side. / ‘I like
your pajamas,’ friend badger confides”) and piquant but restful
paintings. The matter-of-factness with which a fox sleeps under a
star-strewn baby-blue duvet beneath the purple sky offers both
strangeness and comfort. The book lacks shape — you could put the pages
in any order and not notice the difference — but does not want for mood.
Lilli
Carré's “Tippy and the Night Parade” is of a size and style more
intended for independent reading than sharing. Toon Books is a
grandchild of Raw magazine, the underground comics venue founded in 1980
by the cartoonist Art Spiegelman and his wife, Françoise Mouly, now the
art editor of The New Yorker and Toon’s publisher and editorial
director. While respectably hardcover and didactically appended with
suggestions for reading guidance, “Tippy” uses the paneled art and
speech balloons of comics and displays its downtown roots through an
offbeat color palette (cantaloupe, chocolate and gunmetal blue), blithe
generalization of form and a bed-headed heroine who looks as much the
hipster gamin as she does a little girl. The narrative, though, is
completely old-school children’s book: An uncomprehending Tippy is
chastised by her mother for the messy state of her bedroom, filled as it
is with a peacock, bunny, turtle and various detritus from the natural
world. Who will not see that these are but souvenirs of Tippy’s
somnambulistic wanderlust? She makes another trip the very same night,
this time counting among her haul a goat, crab and bear. While the
details of Tippy’s nighttime walk are mildly funny — and maybe mildly is
as funny as you want at bedtime? — there’s not really enough going on
here to make a child want to go through the story more than once. Maybe
the rules are different for comic books (although we certainly reread
them with avidity), but any bedtime book worthy of the name needs to
work its magic over and over again, like bedtime prayers.
The
little girl of “Hannah’s Night” is also a night wanderer, but her
territory is the secure confines of her home, and she’s wide awake. As
with her previous books, “Emily’s Balloon” and “The Snow Day,” the
Japanese author-illustrator Komako Sakai finds picture-book drama by
letting a young child’s perceptions — of a new balloon, unexpected
weather — play out unfiltered by adult perspective. Hannah finds herself
surprised to wake while it’s still dark, and at a bit of a loss for
what to do, goes off to have a pee (with cat Shiro companionably doing
his own business in the litter box next to the toilet). She then raids
the fridge (milk for Shiro, cherries for her), looks out at the moon and
daringly borrows her big sister’s doll right from under her sleeping
nose, securing the sister’s music box and some art supplies while she’s
at it. It’s a big night. Rather than throwing about some nocturnal
nonsense to give Hannah something to do, the book allows the girl’s own
resourcefulness to provide the story, demonstrating a respect for
toddlers and their world matched by the pictures, serious blues and
purples warmed by comfortably scratchy lines and anchored by
protectively rounded borders. Exciting but safe, Hannah’s world is one
that would-be dreamers will welcome as a first step into sleep.
Whatever
it takes. But there’s no reason to think kids need to read or hear
about bedtime at bedtime any more than you do. If we recognized that
children read for the same reasons as adults — the walk into dreamland
being among them — the books we intend for their pleasure might look a
whole lot different.
GOODNIGHT SONGS
By Margaret Wise Brown
Illustrated. 32 pp. Sterling. $17.95. (Picture book; ages 2 and up)
THE BIG BOOK OF SLUMBER
By Giovanna Zoboli
Illustrated by Simona Mulazzani
Translated by Antony Shugaar
28 pp. Eerdmans. $16. (Picture book; ages 2 and up)
TIPPY AND THE NIGHT PARADE
Written and illustrated by Lilli Carré
32 pp. Toon Books/Candlewick Press. $12.95. (Picture book; ages 2 and up)
HANNAH’S NIGHT
Written and illustrated by Komako Sakai
32 pp. Gecko Press. $17.95. (Picture book; ages 2 and up)
MILL
VALLEY, Calif. — Seven-year-old Jordan Lisle, a second grader, joined
his family at a packed after-hours school event last month aimed at
inspiring a new interest: computer programming.
“I’m
a little afraid he’s falling behind,” his mother, Wendy Lisle, said,
explaining why they had signed up for the class at Strawberry Point
Elementary School.
The
event was part of a national educational movement in computer coding
instruction that is growing at Internet speeds. Since December, 20,000
teachers from kindergarten through 12th grade have introduced coding
lessons, according to Code.org,
a group backed by the tech industry that offers free curriculums. In
addition, some 30 school districts, including New York City and Chicago,
have agreed to add coding classes in the fall, mainly in high schools
but in lower grades, too. And policy makers in nine states have begun
awarding the same credits for computer science classes that they do for
basic math and science courses, rather than treating them as electives.
There
are after-school events, too, like the one in Mill Valley, where 70
parents and 90 children, from kindergartners to fifth graders, huddled
over computers solving animated puzzles to learn the basics of computer
logic.
It
is a stark change for computer science, which for decades was treated
like a stepchild, equated with trade classes like wood shop. But
smartphones and apps are ubiquitous now, and engineering careers are
hot. To many parents — particularly ones here in the heart of the
technology corridor — coding looks less like an extracurricular activity
and more like a basic life skill, one that might someday lead to a
great job or even instant riches.
The
spread of coding instruction, while still nascent, is “unprecedented —
there’s never been a move this fast in education,” said Elliot Soloway, a
professor of education and computer science at the University of
Michigan. He sees it as very positive, potentially inspiring students to
develop a new passion, perhaps the way that teaching frog dissection
may inspire future surgeons and biologists.
But
the momentum for early coding comes with caveats, too. It is not clear
that teaching basic computer science in grade school will beget future
jobs or foster broader creativity and logical thinking, as some
champions of the movement are projecting. And particularly for younger
children, Dr. Soloway said, the activity is more like a video game —
better than simulated gunplay, but not likely to impart actual
programming skills.
Some
educators worry about the industry’s heavy role: Major tech companies
and their founders, including Bill Gates and Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg,
have put up about $10 million for Code.org. The organization pays to
train high school teachers to offer more advanced curriculums, and, for
younger students, it has developed a coding curriculum that marries
basic instruction with video games involving Angry Birds and hungry
zombies.
The
lessons do not involve traditional computer language. Rather, they use
simple word commands — like “move forward” or “turn right” — that
children can click on and move around to, say, direct an Angry Bird to
capture a pig.
Across
the country, districts are signing up piecemeal. Chicago’s public
school system hopes to have computer science as a graduation requirement
at all of its 187 high schools in five years, and to have the
instruction in 25 percent of other schools. New York City public schools
are training 60 teachers for classes this fall in 40 high schools, in
part to prepare students for college.
“There’s
a big demand for these skills in both the tech sector and across all
sectors,” said Britt Neuhaus, the director of special projects at the
office of innovation for New York City schools. The city plans to expand
the training for 2015 and is considering moving it into middle schools.
The
movement comes with no shortage of “we’re changing the world” marketing
fervor from Silicon Valley. “This is strategically significant for the
economy of the United States,” said John Pearce, a technology
entrepreneur. He and another entrepreneur, Jeff Leane, have started a
nonprofit, MV Gate, to
bring youth and family coding courses developed by Code.org to Mill
Valley, an affluent suburb across the Golden Gate Bridge from San
Francisco.
Parents
love the idea of giving children something to do with computers that
they see as productive, Mr. Pearce said. “We have any number of parents
who say, ‘I can’t take my kid playing one more hour of video games,’ ”
he said. But if the children are exploring coding, the parents tell him,
“ ‘I can live with that all night long.’ ”
The
concept has caught on with James Meezan, a second grader. He attended
one of the first “Hour of Code” events sponsored by MV Gate in December
with his mother, Karen Meezan, the local PTA president and a former
tech-industry executive who now runs a real estate company. She is among
the enthusiastic supporters of the coding courses, along with several
local principals.
Her
son, she said, does well in school but had not quite found his special
interest and was “not the fastest runner on the playground.” But he
loves programming and spends at least an hour a week at CodeKids,
after-school programs organized by MV Gate and held at three of Mill
Valley’s five elementary schools.
James,
8, explained that programming is “getting the computer to do something
by itself.” It is fun, he said, and, besides, if he gets good, he might
be able to do stuff like get a computer to turn on when it has suddenly
died. His mother said he had found his niche; when it comes to
programming, “he is the fastest runner.”
Other
youngsters seemed more bewildered, at least at first. “The Google guys
might’ve been coders, and the Facebook guys — I don’t know,” said Sammy
Smith, a vibrant 10-year-old girl, when she arrived at the coding event
at Strawberry Point.
But
well into the session, she and her fifth-grade friends were digging in,
moving basic command blocks to get the Angry Bird to its prey, and then
playing with slightly more complex commands like “repeat” and learning
about “if-then” statements, an elemental coding concept. The crowd had
plenty of high-tech parents, including Scott Wong, director of
engineering at Twitter. His 7-year-old son, Taeden, seemed alternately
transfixed and confused by the puzzles on the laptop, while his
5-year-old brother, Sai, sat next to him, fidgeting.
The
use of these word-command blocks to simplify coding logic stems largely
from the work of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Media Lab,
which introduced a visual programming language called Scratch in 2007.
It claims a following of millions of users, but mostly outside the
schools.
Then,
in 2013, came Code.org, which borrowed basic Scratch ideas and aimed to
spread the concept among schools and policy makers. Computer
programming should be taught in every school, said Hadi Partovi, the
founder of Code.org and a former executive at Microsoft. He called it as
essential as “learning about gravity or molecules, electricity or
photosynthesis.”
Among
the 20,000 teachers who Code.org says have signed on is Alana Aaron, a
fifth-grade math and science teacher in the Washington Heights
neighborhood of Manhattan. She heard about the idea late last year at a
professional development meeting and, with her principal’s permission,
swapped a two-month earth sciences lesson she was going to teach on land
masses for the Code.org curriculum.
“Computer
science is big right now — in our country, the world,” she said. “If my
kids aren’t exposed to things like that, they could miss out on
potential opportunities and careers.”
THE
conventional wisdom these days is that kids come by everything too
easily — stickers, praise, A’s, trophies. It’s outrageous, we’re told,
that all kids on the field may get a thanks-for-playing token, in
contrast to the good old days, when recognition was reserved for the
conquering heroes.
Children
are said to be indulged and overcelebrated, spared from having to
confront the full impact of their inadequacy. There are ringing
declarations about the benefits of frustration and the need for grit.
These
themes are sounded with numbing regularity, yet those who sound them
often adopt a self-congratulatory tone, as if it took extraordinary
gumption to say pretty much what everyone else is saying. Indeed, this
fundamentally conservative stance on children and parenting has become
common even for people who are liberal on other issues.
But
seriously, has any child who received a trinket after losing a contest
walked away believing that he (or his team) won — or that achievement
doesn’t matter? Giving trophies to all the kids is a well-meaning and
mostly innocuous attempt to appreciate everyone’s effort.
Even
so, I’m not really making a case for doing so, since it distracts us
from rethinking competition itself and the belief that people can
succeed only if others fail.
Rather,
my intent is to probe the underlying cluster of mostly undefended
beliefs about what life is like (awful), what teaches resilience
(experiences with failure), what motivates people to excel (rewards) and
what produces excellence (competition).
Most
of all, it’s assumed that the best way to get children ready for the
miserable “real world” that awaits them is to make sure they have plenty
of miserable experiences while they’re young. Conversely, if they’re
spared any unhappiness, they’ll be ill-prepared.
This
is precisely the logic employed not so long ago to frame bullying as a
rite of passage that kids were expected to deal with on their own,
without assistance from “overprotective” adults.
In
any case, no one ever explains the mechanism by which the silence of a
long drive home without a trophy is supposed to teach resilience. Nor
are we told whether there’s any support for this theory of inoculation
by immersion. Have social scientists shown that those who are spared,
say, the rigors of dodge ball (which turns children into human targets)
or class rank (which pits students against one another) will wind up
unprepared for adulthood?
Not
that I can find. In fact, studies of those who attended the sort of
nontraditional schools that afford an unusual amount of autonomy and
nurturing suggest that the great majority seemed capable of navigating
the transition to traditional colleges and workplaces.
But
when you point out the absence of logic or evidence, it soon becomes
clear that trophy rage is less about prediction — what will happen to
kids later — than ideology: — how they ought to be treated now. Fury
over the possibility that kids will get off too easy or feel too good
about themselves seems to rest on three underlying values.
The
first is deprivation: Kids shouldn’t be spared struggle and sacrifice,
regardless of the effects. The second value is scarcity: the belief that
excellence, by definition, is something that not everyone can attain.
No matter how well a group of students performs, only a few should get
A’s. Otherwise we’re sanctioning “grade inflation” and mediocrity. To
have high standards, there must always be losers.
But
it’s the third conviction that really ties everything together: an
endorsement of conditionality. Children ought never to receive something
desirable — a sum of money, a trophy, a commendation — unless they’ve
done enough to merit it. They shouldn’t even be allowed to feel good
about themselves without being able to point to tangible
accomplishments. In this view, we have a moral obligation to reward the
deserving and, equally important, make sure the undeserving go
conspicuously unrewarded. Hence the anger over participation trophies.
The losers mustn’t receive something that even looks like a reward.
A
commitment to conditionality lives at the intersection of economics and
theology. It’s where lectures about the law of the marketplace meet
sermons about what we must do to earn our way into heaven. Here, almost
every human interaction, even among family members, is regarded as a
kind of transaction.
Interestingly,
no research that I know of has ever shown that unconditionality is
harmful in terms of future achievement, psychological health or anything
else. In fact, studies generally show exactly the opposite. One of the
most destructive ways to raise a child is with “conditional regard.”
Over
the last decade or so, two Israeli researchers, Avi Assor and Guy Roth,
and their colleagues in the United States and Belgium, have conducted a
series of experiments whose consistent finding is that when children
feel their parents’ affection varies depending on the extent to which
they are well behaved, self-controlled or impressive at school or
sports, this promotes “the development of a fragile, contingent and
unstable sense of self.”
Other
researchers, meanwhile, have shown that high self-esteem is beneficial,
but that even more desirable is unconditional self-esteem: a solid core
of belief in yourself, an abiding sense that you’re competent and
worthwhile — even when you screw up or fall short. In other words, the
very unconditionality that seems to fuel attacks on participation
trophies and the whole “self-esteem movement” turns out to be a defining
feature of psychological health. It’s precisely what we should be
helping our children to acquire.
The author of “The Myth of the Spoiled Child: Challenging the Conventional Wisdom About Children and Parenting,” from which this article was adapted.
WHEN you think of America’s students, do you picture overworked,
stressed-out children bent under backpacks stuffed with textbooks and
worksheets? Or do you call to mind glassy-eyed, empty-headed teenagers
sitting before computer screens, consumed by video games and social
networking sites, even as their counterparts in China prepare to ace yet
another round of academic exams? The first view dominates a series of
recent books and movies, including the much-discussed film “Race to
Nowhere.” The second image has been put forth by other books, with
titles like “The Dumbest Generation: How the Digital Age Stupefies Young
Americans and Jeopardizes Our Future.”
Divergent though they are, these characterizations share a common
emphasis: homework. The studying that middle school and high school
students do after the dismissal bell rings is either an unreasonable
burden or a crucial activity that needs beefing up. Which is it? Do
American students have too much homework or too little? Neither, I’d
say. We ought to be asking a different question altogether. What should
matter to parents and educators is this: How effectively do children’s
after-school assignments advance learning?
The quantity of students’ homework is a lot less important than its
quality. And evidence suggests that as of now, homework isn’t making the
grade. Although surveys show that the amount of time our children spend
on homework has risen over the last three decades, American students
are mired in the middle of international academic rankings:
17th in reading, 23rd in science and 31st in math, according to results
from the Program for International Student Assessment released last
December.
In a 2008 survey, one-third of parents polled rated the quality of their
children’s homework assignments as fair or poor, and 4 in 10 said they
believed that some or a great deal of homework was busywork. A new
study, coming in the Economics of Education Review, reports that
homework in science, English and history has “little to no impact” on
student test scores. (The authors did note a positive effect for math
homework.) Enriching children’s classroom learning requires making
homework not shorter or longer, but smarter.
Fortunately, research is available to help parents, teachers and school
administrators do just that. In recent years, neuroscientists, cognitive
scientists and educational psychologists have made a series of
remarkable discoveries about how the human brain learns. They have
founded a new discipline, known as Mind, Brain and Education, that is
devoted to understanding and improving the ways in which children
absorb, retain and apply knowledge.
Educators have begun to implement these methods in classrooms around the
country and have enjoyed measured success. A collaboration between
psychologists at Washington University in St. Louis and teachers at
nearby Columbia Middle School, for example, lifted seventh- and
eighth-grade students’ science and social studies test scores by 13 to
25 percent.
But the innovations have not yet been applied to homework. Mind, Brain
and Education methods may seem unfamiliar and even counterintuitive, but
they are simple to understand and easy to carry out. And after-school
assignments are ripe for the kind of improvements the new science
offers.
“Spaced repetition” is one example of the kind of evidence-based
techniques that researchers have found have a positive impact on
learning. Here’s how it works: instead of concentrating the study of
information in single blocks, as many homework assignments currently do —
reading about, say, the Civil War one evening and Reconstruction the
next — learners encounter the same material in briefer sessions spread
over a longer period of time. With this approach, students are
re-exposed to information about the Civil War and Reconstruction
throughout the semester.
It sounds unassuming, but spaced repetition produces impressive results.
Eighth-grade history students who relied on a spaced approach to
learning had nearly double the retention rate of students who studied
the same material in a consolidated unit, reported researchers from the
University of California-San Diego in 2007. The reason the method works
so well goes back to the brain: when we first acquire memories, they are
volatile, subject to change or likely to disappear. Exposing ourselves
to information repeatedly over time fixes it more permanently in our
minds, by strengthening the representation of the information that is
embedded in our neural networks.
MERCER
ISLAND, Wash. — Dan Shapiro sold a company to Google and worked at
Microsoft. His name is on nearly a dozen technology-related patents.
But
when it came time for his latest venture, Mr. Shapiro turned to
technology to produce something decidedly low-tech: a board game for
children.
Technology,
by all rights, should have killed old-fashioned games, which can never
equal the eye-popping graphics, visceral action and immense online
communities of today’s video games. Yet the opposite has occurred.
Largely because of new technologies, there has been a creative
outpouring of games by independent designers like Mr. Shapiro.
“It has unlocked a whole generation of innovative gameplay experimentation that just wasn’t feasible before,” he said.
New
tools now power the creation of tabletop games — many in the strategy
or fantasy genres — from idea to delivery. Crowdfunding sites provide
the seed money and offer an early gauge of demand. Machines like 3-D
printers can rapidly create figurines, dice and other prototype game
pieces. And Amazon, the online retail giant, can handle shipping and
distribution, cutting out the need for middlemen.
Sales
have followed. While the video game business long ago eclipsed its
low-tech cousin, sales of tabletop games have continued to grow. Sales
at hobby stores in the United States rose 15 to 20 percent in each of
the last three years, according to ICv2, a trade publication that tracks
the business. Amazon says board game sales increased by a double-digit
percentage from 2012 to 2013.
On
Kickstarter, the crowdfunding service, in which users can pledge money
to finance projects, the amount raised last year for tabletop games
exceeded the amount for video games, $52.1 million to $45.3 million.
“It
has been this amazing boon for the average game designer to come in,
put up an idea, get it funded and get to press,” said Peter Adkison,
founder and former chief executive of Wizards of the Coast, a tabletop game publisher he sold to Hasbro in 2001.
Mr. Shapiro’s experience with his creation Robot Turtles, a game meant to stealthily teach children basic computer programming concepts, illustrates how the new model works.
He
raised $631,000 on Kickstarter in under a month, far exceeding his
$25,000 goal. Robot Turtles has more backers than any other tabletop
game in Kickstarter’s history, with 13,765 people pitching in money for
the project, and Mr. Shapiro had more than 20,000 presales on the site.
He
then found a manufacturer in Michigan by doing a Google search, and
paid it to make 25,000 copies of the game from over 36 tons of cardboard
and paper, shipping most of them in three semi trucks directly to a
warehouse for Amazon. Amazon then delivered them to customers.
“It
felt like technological advancement had anticipated my needs almost
perfectly,” said Mr. Shapiro, who sold all 25,000 copies.
Some
of the new games from independent makers have even started to outsell
games by major toy companies. Three years ago, a group of eight men in
their 20s — middle school friends from Highland Park, Ill. — came up
with an idea for a game that resembles a profane version of Apples to
Apples, the game that involves creating humorous combinations by pairing
noun and adjective cards.
The
result was Cards Against Humanity, billed as a “party game for horrible
people.” During each round, one player draws a card with a question or
sentence with a missing word while the other players compete to come up
with the funniest, most outrageous answer from their own selection of
cards.
A typical question: “What are my parents hiding from me?”
“The placenta,” reads one of the tamer answers.
Cards
Against Humanity and four expansion card packs for the game are
currently the top five best-selling items in Amazon’s toys and games
category. While the game’s co-creators continue to work at other jobs or
attend graduate school, Max Temkin, 27, one of Cards Against Humanity’s
creators, said none of them needed to work since they all had “pretty
substantial savings” from sales of the game.
Mr.
Temkin said that without the help of crowdfunding, he doubted the game
would have been made. “Nobody in their right mind would think it would
be a commercially viable project,” he said. “It was too nerdy and weird
and taboo.”
Enthusiasts
trace the vibrancy of tabletop games to the mid-1990s, when Settlers of
Catan, a German game in which players establish colonies on a fictional
island, helped kick off a renaissance in board game design. The wave of
“Euro games,” which tend to emphasize strategy and competition for
scarce resources rather than combat, that followed added a dash of
creativity to a category, populated with familiar names like Monopoly
and Clue, that many people considered tired.
But in recent years, the momentum has accelerated. Gen Con,
a four-day tabletop game conference being held in Indianapolis this
August, took 15 years to grow to 30,000 attendees from 20,000. In the
last three years, it has grown to 49,000 from 30,000, according to Mr.
Adkison, who owns the convention. Hasbro, which publishes Monopoly,
Battleship and Trivial Pursuit, has seen sales in its games category
grow in recent years, including 10 percent last year from the year
before.
Events
like Gen Con and the visibility of board gaming is part of a growing
celebration of so-called geek culture that is often associated with
hard-core fans.
“We’re
definitely in this moment of the fetishization of geek,” said Yancey
Strickler, Kickstarter’s chief executive. “And everyone is running out
to talk about their geek cred.”
Somewhat
ironically, perhaps, video game players are often among the biggest
devotees of tabletop games. Some in the business believe that is no
accident, theorizing that the abundance of opportunities to connect
electronically with people through games and social media has also
created a hunger — sated by tabletop games — for face-to-face contact.
“It
turns out that being together is very addictive,” said Jerry Holkins, a
creator of Penny Arcade Expo, or PAX, a series of video game
conferences that dedicate about a third of their exhibition space to
tabletop gaming.
Still, the gaming community often finds its way back online, too. Wil Wheaton, an actor and blogger, hosts Tabletop, a popular show on YouTube and other online channels, in which celebrities and others play board games against one another.
“I want to put more gamers in the world,” Mr. Wheaton said.
At
his home in Mercer Island, a Seattle suburb, Mr. Shapiro recently
played a spirited round of Robot Turtles with his twins, a boy and a
girl. The children, who are 5, had to navigate a maze created by Mr.
Shapiro on a grid to reach gemstone cards.
With
determined expressions on their faces, they selected cards to move
their pieces around the board, pushing or destroying obstacles in their
way. Those pieces, Mr. Shapiro said, are intended to represent the
commands of a computer program.
Mr.
Shapiro, who has signed a deal with a publisher, ThinkFun, to continue
making the game, said he was still shocked by its success. But he said
he created the game for a simple reason: so his family had a way to play
together.
“This came from, ‘I want to do something fun with my kids,’ ” he said.
‘The Day I Lost My Superpowers’ and ‘Flight School’
By SARAH HARRISON SMITH
Mired
in reality as adults are, they can find it hard to remember that
children’s outsize desires are often best fulfilled imaginatively. Two
entertaining new books make this point with a light touch. “The day I
discovered I could fly, I knew that I was special,” begins Michaël
Escoffier in “The Day I Lost My Superpowers,” illustrated by Kris Di
Giacomo. The speaker is a preschooler (seemingly a girl, though boy
readers will find there’s nothing to prevent them imagining themselves
in her place) who is convinced — in a way quite rightly — of her own
superpowers. These include the ability to launch herself off the
playground slide into the sandbox, to make cupcakes disappear by sheer
force of concentration, and to direct plants and inanimate objects to do
her will by staying in one place.
Escoffier
and Di Giacomo are an experienced comic team who previously worked
together on the picture books “Brief Thief” and “Me First!” Di Giacomo’s
drawings, in pencil, or possibly Conté crayon, are sketchy and full of
movement. As the supergirl swings, jumps, laughs, belly flops and at one
point, bawls, Di Giacomo captures something refreshing and
authentically childlike about her unselfconscious emotions.
Escoffier
keeps faith with his fearless protagonist, never wavering from telling
the story from her perspective. He relies on Di Giacomo’s visual
narration to explain what’s really going on. (In the case of the
disappearing cupcakes, traces of frosting on a certain person’s chubby
cheeks give a clue to their ultimate destination; a boast about
breathing underwater is accompanied by a picture of that same someone
bottom-side-up in the bathtub, breathing through a snorkel.) Escoffier
rounds up the story with a warmhearted, love-affirming twist that could
make “The Day I Lost My Superpowers” a contender for best book for
Mother’s Day; it turns out that superpowers run in the family.
Lita
Judge’s “Flight School” tells an equally funny — and emotionally
credible — story about the power of the imagination. A very determined
little penguin announces he has “the soul of an eagle” and “was hatched
to fly.” He enlists the help of some bigger birds in taking to the
skies. Tricked out in goofy red aviator glasses, he tries and tries
again and, of course, fails. Judge (of “Red Sled” and “Red Hat”) has a
delicate touch with expressions, and her disappointed flight instructors
look like music teachers whose favorite pupil abandons orchestra for
ice hockey. But all is not lost: They think up a plan to help the
penguin realize his dream. In the end, the flight he takes is a triumph
of the imagination over experience. It makes him happy all the same.
THE DAY I LOST MY SUPERPOWERS
By Michaël Escoffier
Illustrated by Kris Di Giacomo
32 pp. Enchanted Lion Books. $16.95. (Picture book; ages 3 to 8)
FLIGHT SCHOOL
Written and illustrated by Lita Judge
40 pp. Atheneum. $16.99. (Picture book; ages 3 to 8)
How do we help students achieve academically
and socially? As a teacher, I have lofty answers. But challenges — and
questions — arise when I try to translate my ideas (and ideals) into
concrete lessons, delivered in 90-minute increments to a very particular
set of sixth graders, each as individual and evanescent as a snowflake.
To help teachers succeed, schools offer
“professional development,” universally known as P.D. Like a lot of
teachers, I’ve come to regard such training with a mix of optimism and
disappointment. Over the last 20 years, I’ve attended more education
“workshops” than I care to remember. Such courses typically lasted no
more than an hour or a day, and nearly always contained valid, even
vital ideas, but were too superficial, too removed from the realities of
my classroom to alter my teaching very much, even when I yearned for
change.
Then I started work at a school that takes
P.D. seriously. This summer, my school sent me to a weeklong, intensive
course for middle school teachers called Developmental Designs, which
derives from a teaching approach known as Responsive Classroom.
Among its guiding principles is a belief that
students who develop social skills like cooperation, assertiveness and
empathy can achieve more academically. The idea is similar to the
“character education” Paul Tough advocates in his new book “How Children
Succeed.”
I’d already watched colleagues attain
enviable classroom management through this technique. Still, given my
previous P.D. experience, I initially harbored skepticism. I imagined
catching up on e-mail during the course’s slow moments. But, it turned
out, I didn’t send e-mail all week. The program was a model of effective
P.D. and what it can achieve.
The Responsive Classroom approach centers on
several ostensibly mundane classroom practices. Each morning students
form a circle, greet one another, share bits of news, engage in a brief,
fun activity and review the day’s agenda. The idea is to build trust,
ensure a little fun (which adolescents crave) and confront small
problems before they become big. Students might welcome one another with
salutations from a foreign language. An activity might involve tossing
several balls around a circle in rapid succession. Students share
weekend plans or explore topics like bullying before lessons begin.
If this sounds obvious or intuitive, it is,
but so is being loving and kind. That doesn’t make it easier to achieve.
Part of what makes the approach effective is that each routine is
highly structured, and so replicable, but allows for student input and
choice.
The fun and games have an ulterior purpose.
My instructor emphasized how, at the end of each activity, we should
bring the exercise back to concrete classroom skills. Tossing a ball,
for example, is like the exchange of ideas, requiring students to follow
a discussion’s trajectory with their eyes.
Another tenet is that teachers should avoid
indiscriminate praise in favor of neutral language that encourages
specific behaviors so children can precisely identify and so replicate
their triumphs. (The research of Carol S. Dweck, a psychology professor
at Stanford, has separately come to similar conclusions.) Finding the
best words, however, can be surprisingly difficult after years of
crowing, “Great job!” So the course had us devise and rehearse the
verbal and nonverbal cues we wanted to use.
In my classroom, the shared routines have
already led to a greater sense of calm and purpose, which has led to
more productive lessons. I’m not alone in enjoying concrete results from
the Responsive Classroom method. In one study, presented in September,
researchers looked at 24 schools randomly assigned to training in the
Responsive Classroom or to a control group, which did not receive the
same teacher training or support. When faithfully implemented, the
approach correlated with a substantial rise — a roughly 20-point gain on
average — on state standardized test scores in reading and math.
Why does Responsive Classroom work where
other approaches do not? Sara E. Rimm-Kaufman, the study’s lead author
and an associate professor of education at the University of Virginia,
theorizes it’s because teachers not only received intensive training but
also had follow-up coaching once they returned to their classrooms,
which increased the chances that new practices would take hold. Teachers
also praised the program’s pacing: coaches encouraged teachers to adopt
steps slowly over a sustained period, instead of trying to transform
their classrooms overnight.
“The take-home message,” Dr. Rimm-Kaufman
says, “is that interventions that take a long time to learn and that
require more resources also produce more change.” The required financial
investment isn’t enormous, and the findings suggest that schools and
districts would do better to devote limited resources to a few sustained
programs, rather than providing scattershot offerings in teacher
training.
Schoolwide buy-in also appeared critical to
the approach’s success. Where principals and administrators supported
the use of the Responsive Classroom method, gains on test scores were
greatest. But, if the program was just one of many randomly tossed at
teachers, then test scores remained flat or even declined.
In other words, teachers can’t go it alone.
They need sustained training and support using empirically tested
methods in concert and collaboration with one another. This is how
schools succeed.
Why you shouldn't help your kids with their homework
A. PawlowskiTODAY contributor
April 28, 2014 at 9:54 AM ET
Getty Images
It
may feel tempting – proper even – to help your child with homework, but
parents who get involved this way don’t improve their kids’ test scores
or grades, and can hurt their academic achievement, two researchers
have found.
“We need to do away with the assumption that anything
parents do will help. That assumes that parents have all the answers,
and parents do not have all the answers,” Angel L. Harris, one of the
scholars, told TODAY Moms.
“Some of the things that they do may actually lead to declines in achievement – inadvertently, of course.”
Harris,
a professor of sociology and African and African-American studies at
Duke, and Keith Robinson, an assistant professor of sociology at the
University of Texas, Austin, are the authors of the book “The Broken
Compass: Parental Involvement With Children’s Education.”
They
analyzed surveys of American families released in the last three
decades by the U.S. Department of Education – surveys that followed the
same families over time and collected information such as kids’
achievements, behaviors and their parents’ behaviors.
“We found
that when parents from various racial, ethnic and socioeconomic groups
regularly helped their child with homework, in most cases, it made no
difference for the child’s improvement in their test scores in reading,
math, and their grades,” Robinson said.
“Regular help with homework… even compromised achievement in grades for white, black and non-Mexican Hispanic children.”
Could
the findings simply reflect the fact that kids struggling with school
ask for more homework help, thus making it look as though children who
get more help do worse? No, Harris said, because the researchers
measured the change in achievement among all kids, including those who
performed well in school. The effect of parental homework involvement
was the same across the board.
Since the surveys only provided information about how often parents helped with homework, not how
they helped, Harris and Robinson can only speculate about the “why”
part of the results. The basic message to parents is that being involved
will not always result in better grades, Robinson said.
“Parents
tend to take the reins of how they’re going to help with homework
without consulting the child,” Robinson noted. “So maybe parents could
ask kids, ‘Is what I’m doing helping you?’”
"It makes you rethink the assumption that helpers know what they’re doing, that they know how to help," Harris added. Vicki Davis,
a high school teacher at Westwood Schools in Camilla, Ga., said
families who are over-involved in their children’s homework can enable
helplessness. She’s seen her share of parents doing the assignments for
their kids, especially writing papers, or taking charge of high-stakes,
big projects.
Courtesy Vicki Davis
Teacher Vicki Davis' daughter Susan finishes up her term paper. The
high school senior stopped asking her mom for help with homework in
second grade, Davis said.
“As a teacher, you recognize a
student’s work. It’s like seeing somebody’s face every day and then all
of a sudden, their face looks different,” Davis said.
“I don’t think most parents meant to do it. They just kind of start taking over.”
Davis
expects elementary school students to get help from parents because
they’re still learning study skills, and she doesn’t mind if older
students talk “big picture” with their families about a project.
But in general, parents should limit their involvement to making sure kids are completing their homework, she advised.
She
finds the students who do best in school have parents who hold them
accountable and regularly look at their grades. The goal is to create
independent, lifelong learners, she said.
Kerry Lyons, a mother of
five in Irvington, N.Y., said the research findings are a “huge
relief.” Lyons works full time, so when she gets home, her kids – three
kindergartners, one second-grader and one fourth-grader – are usually
done with homework.
She estimates she helps twice a week, and then sits down with each child during the weekend to discuss what they worked on.
“I
beat myself up sometimes because I’m surrounded by parents who are so
focused on their kids and so focused on helping them with their school
work and helping them succeed, and I simply don’t have the hours in the
day to do that,” Lyons, 42, said.
“You worry about setting them up for the best possible start… (but) they’re going to be OK and they might even be better off.”
If
helping with homework isn’t a good way for parents to be involved,
Harris and Robinson found three ways that do help kids do better in
school: Requesting a particular teacher for your child; expecting him or
her to go to college, and discussing school activities with your child.