Racing to the Ivies

A lot happened in the world over the weekend-- from the Royal Wedding to the White House Correspondents' Dinner to, of course, the death of Osama Bin Laden.  May 1, 2011 was definitely an historic day.

Today I write about a much smaller corner of the world, and an event that also occurred over the weekend-- the Penn Relays. The Penn Relays is the oldest track and field competition in the US, beginning in 1895. I must confess that I know about the Penn Relays from a 1986 episode of The Cosby Show, when Heathcliff Huxtable ran on a relay team.  Like many children of the '80s I would have loved to have been part of the Huxtbale family, so I thought I would share a clip from that episode, "Off to the Races."

On Friday The New York Times ran a very interesting article on Princeton's record-setting 4x400 relay team in advance of the Penn Relays.  The team, which did not win over the weekend at the Penn Relays (though Princeton's 4xMile team did win), is made up of four very different young men.  All have different backgrounds, academic interests, and extracurricular pursuits.  What is so impressive is that these young men are Princeton students, top athletes, and they do other things around campus-- like being part of a hip-hop dance group, singing in an a cappella group, and playing the trombone.

These extraordinary young men seem almost ordinary on an Ivy campus like Princeton's.  Their pattern of involvement and success is exactly what admissions officers look for while sifting through thousands of application. In my research on afterschool activities and their links to elite college admissions I have spoken with admissions officers on why participation in extracurricular activities is so important.

Ivies are looking for smart students with a great deal of ambition. But it’s awfully hard to measure ambition. Participation in activities—and especially awards and leadership earned through participation—are a proxy for that ambition. The specific activities are less important; what matters is that you play a sport or seriously participate in anther activity like debate or drama. But you should also do something else, like play an instrument or be part of a Model United Nations team or volunteer or compete in dance competitions. Because what Ivies, and schools like them, are looking for are ambitious individuals who aren’t afraid to take risks.  Princeton's anchor, Austin Holliman, is a great example: Not only is he a top sprinter and hurdler, he also is a high-level trombonist (so good, in fact, he almost went to Julliard for college).

When freshmen get to campus they will be exposed to new activities and academic disciplines. Princeton, and schools like it, wants to create a campus full of ambitious kids who are willing to try swimming or journalism or glee club or anthropology for the first time. So you can’t just do one thing in high school, you need to show you are flexible and versatile. Of course, you’re still ultimately expected to excel in whatever you try, but you must first be willing to try.  Freshman Tom Hopkins, who runs the third leg of the relay, has been in an a cappella group his first year at Princeton, a great example of someone jumping into campus life and trying multiple things.

Being ambitious, versatile, and taking risks are traits that many also think of as being American, part of our nation’s DNA. A former president of the American Psychological Association said that America is “a success-oriented society whose attitudes toward achievement can be traced to our Protestant heritage with its emphasis on individualism and the work ethic.” When Alexis de Tocqueville toured the US in the mid-nineteenth century he famously wrote about the participatory nature of Americans, declaring that we are a nation of joiners.  When another European, the developmental psychologist Jean Piaget, toured the US he was also struck by the degree of involvement of Americans—specifically American parents. Piaget was shocked by how many parents asked him whether it was possible to speed up children’s development.  He named this concern “The American Question,” because he said Americans are always trying to hurry things along.

Today that “American Question” symbolizes not just ambition and involvement, it also symbolizes competition. Americans love competitions and reward winners. General George Patton declared, “When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, big league ball players, the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time."  This seems a particularly relevant quote and sentiment today.

Creating Competitive Kid Capital... Through Bridge?

Whenever children participate in activities, including unsupervised play or organized non-competitive activities, they acquire skills through socialization. This is also true of participation in organized activities which do not have an explicitly competitive element, as I have argued before. But many activities that were previously non-competitive have been transformed from environments that only emphasized learning skills, personal growth, and simple fun, into competitive cauldrons in which only a few succeed—those who learn the skills necessary to compete and to win. According to their parents and teachers, kids can learn particular lessons from participation in competitive activities apart from normal childhood play.

Yesterday The New York Times ran an article about kids learning how to play bridge, and then competing in bridge tournaments.  The article draws many comparisons between bridge and chess, given that they are both mental games (the major difference between the two highlighted in the piece is that bridge adds a more social, team element, as players have to play together to win).  But whether we think about chess, bridge, sports, dance, music, or other childhood activities, we see many similar trends-- like trophies and titles (the Times article specifically mentions a nine-year-old boy who recently became the youngest bridge life master). Most important, we see adults focused on developing similar skills in kids through their participation in these competitive activities.

In my research on competitive activities for elementary school-age kids I focused on three case study activities. Children's competitive activities can be classified into one of the following types-- athletic, artistic, or academic-- and I had one of each-- soccer, dance, and chess.  Based on sixteen months of observation and 172 interviews with parents, teachers and coaches, and kids themselves, I label the lessons and skills children gain from participating in competitive activities competitive kid capital. The character associated with this competitive kid capital that parents want their children to develop is based on the acquisition of five skills and lessons: internalizing the importance of winning, bouncing back from a loss to win the future, learning how to perform with time limits, learning how to perform in stressful situations, and being able to perform under the gaze of others.

Internalizing the importance of winning is a primary goal when acquiring competitive kid capital. One parent told me: I think it’s important for him to understand that [being competitive] is not going to just apply here, it’s going to apply for the rest of his life. It’s going to apply when he keeps growing up and he’s playing sports, when he’s competing for school admissions, for a job, for the next whatever.

Competitive children’s activities reinforce winning, often at the expense of anything else, by awarding trophies and other prizes. Such an attitude seems to bring success in winner-take-all settings like the school system.  Though many activities do award participation trophies, especially to younger children, the focus remains on who wins the biggest trophy and most important title. and some labor markets.

Linked to learning the importance of victory is learning from a loss to win in the future, a second component of competitive kid capital. This skill involves perseverance and focus; the emphasis is on how to bounce back from a loss to win the next time. A mom explained: The winning and losing is phenomenal. I wish it was something that I learned because life is really bumpy. You’re not going to win all the time and you have to be able to reach inside and come back. Come back and start fresh and they are able to. I’m not saying he doesn’t cry once in a while. But it’s really such a fantastic skill.

Because competitive activities belong to organizations that keep records, the stakes are higher than in recreational leagues and children can see that it matters that there is a record of success. These competitive activities in childhood then also help kids learn how to recover from public failures, and how to apply themselves and work hard, in order to be long-term winners. Kids learn the identity of being a winner only through suffering a loss. This father summarizes the sentiment, trying to raise a son to be a winner in life: This is what I’m trying to get him to see: that he’s not going to always win. And then from a competitive point of view, with him it’s like I want him to see that life is, in certain circumstances, about winning and losing. And do you want to be a winner or do you want to be a loser? You want to be a winner! There’s a certain lifestyle that you have to lead to be a winner, and it requires this, this, this and this. And if you do this, this, this and this, more than likely you’ll have a successful outcome.

Learning how to succeed given time limits is a critical skill as well—one of the “this” things you have to do to be a winner, and a third element of competitive kid capital. There are time limits for games, tournaments, and routines—and the competition schedule is also demanding, cramming many events into a weekend or short week. On top of that children need to learn how to manage their own schedules, which they might have to do someday as busy consultants and CEOs. One boy, in an unintentionally funny, and prescient, comment about how busy his young life is and how busy his schedule will likely be as an adult told me that he thinks soccer helps him learn about: Dodging everything—like when we have to catch a train, and there are only a few more minutes, we have to run and dodge everyone. So, soccer teaches that.

Children also learn how to perform and compete in environments that require adaptation, a fourth part of the competitive kid capital recipe. These environments may be louder, more distracting, colder, hotter, larger or smaller than anticipated in preparations, but competitors, and especially winners, learn how to adapt. The adaptation requires focus on the part of children—to focus only on their performance and eventual success. The following quote by a mom of a fourth-grader links this to performing well on standardized tests: It’s that ability to keep your concentration focused, while there’s stuff going on around you. As you go into older age groups, where people are coming in and out, the ability to maintain that concentration, a connection with what’s going on, on the board in front of you, and still be functional in a room of people, it’s a big thing. I mean to see those large tournaments, in the convention centers, I know it is hard. I did that to take the bar exam, and the LSAT I took for law school, and GREs. You do that in a large setting, but some people are thrown by that, just by being in such a setting. Well that’s a skill, and it’s an ability to transfer that skill. It’s not just a chess skill. It’s a coping with your environment skill.

Finally, in this pressure-filled competitive environment children’s performances are judged and assessed in a very public setting by strangers—the fifth and final component to competitive kid capital. This dance mom explains: I think it definitely teaches you awareness of your body and gives you a definite different stance and confidence that you wouldn’t have. For example, you’re told to stand a certain way in ballet, which definitely helps down the road. When she has to go to a job interview, she’s going to stand up straight because she’s got ballet training; she’s not going to hunch and she’s going to have her chin up and have a more confident appearance. The fact that it is not easy to get up on a stage and perform in front of hundreds or thousands of people, strangers, and to know that you’re being judged besides, definitely gives you a level of self-confidence that can be taken to other areas. So, again, if she has to be judged by a teacher or when she’s applying for a job she’ll have more of that confidence.

Children are ranked, both in relation to others’ performance in a particular competition, and in relation to participants their age. These appraisals are public and often face-to-face, as opposed to standardized tests which take place anonymously and privately. Being able to perform under the gaze of others toughens a child to shield his feelings of disappointment or elation, to present themselves as competent and confident competitors.

While all of the parents I met believe their children need to develop this competitive kid capital to succeed later in life, most were also concerned that their kids lack free time to play, or to “just be kids.” What is remarkable is that despite often deep ambivalence, families keep their children involved in competitive activities. Even when the specific activity may change (for example, a child leaves soccer for lacrosse, or gymnastics for dance), children remain actively engaged in competition and in their afterschool activities. Parents want to ensure they are giving their child every possible opportunity to succeed in the future in an often unpredictable world. These actions make sense to them now, though the later transition to success is not guaranteed, so they are hedging their bets by encouraging their children to acquire and stockpile this competitive capital-- whether it be by participating in bridge, chess, soccer, dance, or other competitive athletic, artistic, or academic endeavors.

Do you value these skills for your kids? If so, how do you choose to impart them during childhood? I myself don't know how to play bridge, but think it sounds interesting!

All is Fair in... Science?

I never participated in a science fair, but I've been thinking a lot about them lately. In the past week I've (pretty randomly) ordered two new books on science competitions from Amazon and read three articles on them. I suppose it's science fair season, but it's also left me wondering if science fairs/contests are gaining in popularity?

In my mind I group together science fairs, girl scouting, and moms who have fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies ready for you when you get home from school-- various aspects of "traditional," and perhaps historical, American childhoods that you are more likely to encounter in children's literature than in real life.  According to this piece by Daniel Barth, Science Fair programs started in the US in 1921 and organized competition went national in 1941. This timeline is very consistent with historical patterns of organized competition for kids in the US. In my research on the history of organized, competitive afterschool activities I label the time period from the Progressive Era through the Second World War the "seeds of competition" and the time period post-WWII through the 1970s the "growth of competition" (since then, into the present, we have the "explosion of hyper-competitiveness").

Dr. Barth also points out that the traditional science fair model has become more about ego for parents and kids and "the validity of work and the experience of doing real science takes a back seat to grades and prizes – and vicarious glory."  However, another article on Lyman High School in Florida, published earlier this month in Education Week, suggests that integrating competition with the science curriculum helps students remain engaged and excited about science and can help increase creativity as well.  I would agree with teacher Bill Yucuis, with an important caveat.

Young superstar scientists exist.  An article, "The Next Nobels," in this month's O Magazine (not yet available on the web, so click HERE to see a scanned PDF from my copy) highlights four high-achieving young scientists; they are also four of the twelve kids featured in Science Fair Season, which will be released tomorrow.  Probably the most famous "science fair" remains the Westinghouse (now Intel, since 1998) Talent Search, and it's kids like those featured in the O piece and the book who will be competitive for this highly prestigious event.  But what about all the kids who are not great enough to compete at such a high level? I'm convinced by a variety of educational and psychological research that in-class competitions can help kids get excited about STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) by giving them a goal and getting them engaged.  Competitions held outside of school are trickier though. When you go up against a superstar and constantly lose, it can be discouraging and lead to drop-out (what I call the "problem of the high-achieving child"). That means we may be losing the really good science students who could eventually catch up to some of the great science students if given the time, instruction, and opportunity.  What to do about this is not at all clear and in this case, big, public competitions could exacerbate the problem.

It appears that one teacher, Amir Abo-Shaeer, has found a way around this problem (incidentally, Abo-Shaeer is the first high school teacher to ever win a MacArthur "Genius" Grant).  Abo-Shaeer uses robotics competitions to make science "cool" for students as his school-within-a-school.  His team's story is the focus on the just-released The New Cool: A Visionary Teacher, His FIRST Robotics Team, and the Ultimate Battle of Smarts by Neal Bascomb. I just got the book and it's in my mile-high tower of books-to-be-read-soonish, so I'll let you know if I discover his secret. The book has been getting great reviews so it seems to be worth checking out.

What strikes me is that Abo-Shaeer appears to focus on robotics competitions.  Robotics is obviously a part of any STEM curriculum. And I can see how the technological aspects of robotics is particularly appealing to kids and adolescents. But what happens to the other parts of STEM? Are those more likely to be covered by superstar young scientists? I'd be interested to know if anyone knows of any research on this-- or how various parts of the STEM curriculum break down by sex.  If it is a trend to focus on more specific types of competitions (like robotics, or mathematics) as opposed to general science fairs, that's very interesting, and consistent with increased specialization in careers and the educational system.

As for specifics, can someone please answer this question for me: What is the difference, if any, between a science fair, a science competition, and a science talent search? I guess they are all the same thing essentially, so why the different names? Or is a fair more school/locally-based, while competitions and searches are more national?

Brains vs. Beauty: Considering Kids' Participation in Beauty Pageants, Chess, and Football

In response to yesterday's post on child beauty pageants in Australia (or not) I received a variety of thoughtful comments. One of them was from The Family Factor who wrote, 
So what happens to the girls' views of the audience when they realize the[y] did not cut it? The idea that outward appearance is what gives you the edge in life is further entrenched and each time the girls become more self-conscious about what the audience is feeling about them compared to someone 'prettier'. To me this creates further insecurity rather than confidence.
Collett's point is a very important one.  We enroll kids in activities that are meant to be fun, educational, and constructive.  But what happens when the kids just can't cut it and aren't "good enough?"

When I was studying elementary school kids who play scholastic chess I confronted this question directly.  The following exchange is from an interview with a first-grade boy who played in local chess tournaments:

Hilary: Do you want to play at a really big tournament someday, like the Nationals?
Jun: Not really.
Hilary: Why not?
Jun: Well, because, I'm thinking that Nationals are good, right? And smart. So, right now, I'm not smart enough... I just feel it.

I was concerned by Jun's reaction and asked one of the chess coaches if this is a usual response (especially because Jun in fact was a talented chess player and a smart kid).  The coach told me, "Of course when you start losing then you ask yourself questions. Why do I lose? Maybe I am not smart." Because chess is a mental game, when you fail, you worry that you are simply not smart enough to participate and succeed.  
Parents were also aware of this issue. A chess mom told me she worried this notion could really damage her third-grade daughter's self-esteem, and in the process push her away from math and science. She explained, "Unlike soccer or baseball or a team sport, it’s just you [in chess]. You can’t blame it on a teammate...It’s your brain.  I think it could be a very weird thing and potentially devastating to say that my mind wasn’t working well."
Even though we celebrate athletic talent in our society, the brain still reigns supreme. I believe this is part of the reason why concussions have been the focus of so much media attention (which I've discussed before here). An ACL tear can heal, as can a broken bone. But a broken brain? That's something else entirely.  Should we risk long-term damage to the brain for fleeting athletic glory?
This one was one of many great questions raised in last night's Frontline documentary called Football High. The episode focused on Shiloh, a small, private, Christian high school in Arkansas that has rocketed to the top of national high school (American style) football rankings. In telling Shiloh's story the producers  illuminated important questions about the current state of youth sports: the rise of private coaches, the professionalization of high school sports on television, the use of elaborate ranking systems for middle school and high school players, and the recruitment of collegiate players younger than ever. What does all this mean? High school athletes spend more hours in practice than NCAA athletes, with basically no regulation and often under the supervision of adults who aren't properly trained to care for their health. The consequence? More injuries, like heat stroke and concussions.  We hear about the tragic stories of Tyler Davenport, a high school football player who died of heat stroke this past fall following a football practice, and Owen Thomas, a football captain at University of Pennsylvania who had signs of chronic traumatic encephalopathy in his brain after he committed suicide last spring.  When they were told to push themselves harder, to be "good enough," they did.

Given what I study people often ask me what activities I will enroll my own kids in someday, when I have them. I can say with 95% certainty that if I have a son, I would not let him play football, especially if the game and its safety standards don't change.  It's just too risky to the brain and future development.

Which brings me back to beauty pageants and the question raised by The Family Factor.  The truth is that I am also 95% sure that if I have a daughter I wouldn't let her participate in a beauty pageant (too much family history, given that my mother was Miss America 1970).  However, in terms of damage to the brain (both physical and psychological), I don't see how beauty pageants are much worse than football.

In fact, on the point of sending girls a negative message about not being "pretty enough," I'd like to raise two points essentially in defense of pageants.  First of all it would be nice to think we live in a society where looks and appearances don't matter.  Many people work to change the fact that looks, especially women's looks, are so consequential, and this is definitely a worthy enterprise.  But the fact is, for both men and women, how you look matters-- if you think how much you earn matters or who your partner is matters (I say this in seriousness as some people value different things, like happiness, which is not always related to income or romantic partnerships).  As a sociologist I believe standards of beauty are partly determined by our society; but I also believe that some of this is biological.  For a great discussion of these issues check out Nancy Etcof's Survival of the Prettiest: The Science of BeautyWe know from numerous studies by economists and psychologists that taller, and better-looking people are paid more and people are nicer to them. I'm not saying this is right, but it is the way it is.  That parents want to advantage their kids-- in this case mainly their daughters-- by emphasizing how to look their best starting at a young age is then not irrational.  Of course, spending thousands and thousands of dollars to teach that lesson is not so rational-- and girls could learn how to improve their appearance in various ways from other activities that aren't beauty pageants.

In terms of concerns about girls' self-perception, I think this is a serious issue around pageants, as I wrote about yesterday. However, somewhat paradoxically, when it comes to concerns about not being "pretty enough," I worry about this the most when it comes to natural pageants. In natural pageants a girl wears no make-up, doesn't wear super fancy dresses with lots of rhinestones, etc. Often at natural pageants girls walk on stage and model a bit, but the routines are not at all elaborate. At glitz pageants, by contrast, "total package" competitors do best. It doesn't matter if you aren't the most "facially beautiful," using only what you were born with.  Instead, you can work to "enhance" that beauty.  On top of that, and more important here, you can work to become a good model, practicing choreographed routines, and working on specific skills for the routines like triple turns.  In other words, girls can learn the value of practice and hard work from glitz pageants, rather than just coasting on natural good looks like in some natural pageants.

Given that I am a person who lives more of an intellectual life, I likely will teach my children how to play chess. I don't know if they will ever play in a chess tournament because I don't know if they will be any good. Of course, they can always get better through hard work and practice.  But some kids are just better suited to different activities with different skill sets. I'm determined to find out what my children enjoy and what they can be best at by exposing them to various activities (I intend to parent using my "childhood is a buffet" metaphor-- though football and beauty pageants won't be on my child's spread). I believe everyone has something they are good at, where they can "cut it," and it's our job as parents to help them discover their passion and what that might be-- whether it be chess, football, beauty pageants, or any other number of other endeavors like music and art.

What sorts of activities are off limit for your kids and why?

HuffPo Piece: Cinderella Ate My Man-Eating Tiger Daughter

This originally appeared on The Huffington Post on April 1, 2011. Note that the same day my piece was posted, news broke that Amy Chua's eldest daughter, Sophia, was admitted to the Harvard class of '15 (during the most competitive admissions cycle in Harvard's history, with a 6.2% admit rate); Sophia will be matriculating in Cambridge this fall.

Looking for advice on how to raise a successful daughter? Recent bestsellers offer conflicting advice. In Cinderella Ate My Daughter, Peggy Orenstein trumpets Girl Power over pink princesses if you want a smart, independent woman. But Kay Hymowitz writes in Manning Up that you should poo-poo this New Girl Order -- at least if you want your daughter to be a wife and (working) mother someday. And then there's the now infamous Tiger Mother Amy Chua who painstakingly details how she "Chinese parents" her two daughters to be the best at everything they touch in Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother; her girls tend to trounce everyone (girls and boys) while wearing princess-style dresses.

Chua recently spoke at Harvard (otherwise known as mecca for Tiger Moms), where she proclaimed, "I could not in a million years imagine my book to be perceived this way, as preaching Chinese parenting as superior... This is not a parenting book. It is a memoir." Indeed Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother covers Chua's childhood and family life, and describes how her relationship with members of her family changed while raising her over-achieving Chinese-Jewish-American children. These humanizing details are interspersed between the more horrifying anecdotes -- well known, thanks to the excerpt printed in The Wall Street Journal -- about denial of dinners and sleepovers, and threats to burn stuffed animals and give toys away.

As Chua was excoriated in the media, Orenstein's own parenting book-cum-memoir appeared. Cinderella Ate My Daughter is a spirited journey through the princess-industrial complex created by Disney and fed by American Girl, Club Libby Lu, other toy companies, child beauty pageants, and many more. Orenstein, a journalist who specializes in women's and girls' issues, details how this pink culture developed historically and how it impacts girls today at younger ages than ever before--including her own daughter, Daisy.

In many ways Chua and Orenstein's families and concerns are similar. They both have daughters. In fact, they both are raising Asian/Jewish daughters. They both find something wrong with current American parenting techniques, especially when it comes to raising their girls. But Peggy Orenstein is revered and Amy Chua is reviled, and when you read the books you can see why. As unyielding as Chua is (even when conceding defeat), Orenstein is questioning -- a crucial difference between the two books. Orenstein is also humorous. Chua claims she was trying to be a funny writer, but any self-deprecating humor just doesn't come across as genuine, especially when she repeatedly lists the accolades of her various family members. In the end, Orenstein is just more admirably ambivalent, honest, and likeable about mothering a young girl today.

Click HERE to keep reading!