Age Cut-offs, Limits, and Manipulations

NOTE: A version of this piece was syndicated on BlogHer! Check it out by clicking HERE. This past weekend I enjoyed watching the kick-off to the US women's gymnastics season at the Covergirl Classic, which featured the "comebacks" of Shawn Johnson and Chelsie Memmel, the continued dominance of Alicia Sacramone, and the debut of several new stars.  Of course the veterans "coming back" are around 23-years-old, and the newcomers are 15.  I also watched the first night of the FINA World Championships on Sunday as the US women took silver in the 4x100m free relay.  There, again, a 16-year-old "newcomer" (Missy Franklin) performed well, alongside a 28-year-old "veteran" (Natalie Coughlin).

These newcomers and veterans are preparing for the London Olympics, now a little more than a year away. Age always makes a good story in sports coverage (recall from the 2008 Games, for example, the prodigies, like Shawn Johnson, and the elder states[wo]men, like Dara Torres).  But age is also often the source of controversy. For example, did the Chinese lie about the ages of their gymnasts to give them a physical advantage? We know they did in 2000, as did the North Koreans in 2004.  You only have to look at pictures (like the one I included below) of the more womanly eighteen-year-old Nastia Liukin next to the sprite-like sixteen-year-old He Kexin to wonder if Kexin might actually be fourteen instead (you must be 16 during an Olympic year to compete in women's artistic gymnastics).

Lest you think that age cut-offs, limits, and controversies are limited to elite levels of sport, look no further than your local soccer field or Little League diamond. Parents often lie about the age of their children to try to give them a competitive advantage.  Perhaps the most notorious case of a parent lying about the age of a child was not in activities I concentrate on in my research (like chess, dance, soccer, and child beauty pageants), but in Little League baseball.  In 2001, during the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, Danny Almonte’s father and coach forged the boy’s identification papers, saying he was twelve.  Danny was actually fourteen and hence ineligible to play Little League.  After he pitched a no-hitter and lead his team to a third place finish, the deception was discovered and the team’s placement was stripped.

Other cases are less extreme, but do occur, and in a range of activities.  In her work on girls’ softball Jennifer Ring says that savvy parents try to conceive to best complement their children’s sports “careers,” so a child will be older in their birth year. Other parents, like Almonte’s, simply tamper with birth certificates to give them an edge.  This happened on the New England child beauty pageant circuit where I did research.  A mother lied to multiple pageant directors, saying her daughter was three, but she was actually five.  Being younger allowed her to qualify for, and to win, the "0-3 Grand Supreme" titles.

Giving children an edge in terms of age has the biggest effect in athletics-- what is known as the “relative-age effect."  But it also happens when it comes to academics as well.  In a practice known as “academic red-shirting,” parents of many children, especially boys, are held back from entering kindergarten; a handful of my chess boys were red-shirted in preschool or pre-kindergarten.  As with sports, some parents will report “timing the conception of their children with [academic] redshirting in mind”.  Notably, redshirting basically did not exist fifty years ago.  This process would not exist today if there were not competitive consequences in being “behind” in the competitive hierarchy.  This is additional evidence that there are now structures in place to help put kids in the best position to feed into a system of competitive positioning that is happening earlier and earlier in children’s lives.

Sometimes parents don't cheat per se—but they certainly game the system.  Many of the parents and teachers I met had learned to manipulate competitive activity systems in order to maximize the chance of winning. For instance, some dance routines have younger children added to bring down the average age of the group (you hear talk of group ages on Lifetime's Dance Moms).  Parents’ willingness to game the system across activities shows that they are often more concerned with their children winning, even in a manipulated system, than getting a fair outcome.  The focus is often on winning at any cost, which is a lesson passed on to the children.

ETA: The New York Times ran a story on July 30, five days after I published this post, on the Ugandan Little League team. The team members were denied visas to enter the United States on the grounds that, "some of the visa applications included birth records that 'several parents admitted had been altered to make some players appear younger than they actually are.'” I am sure that this was a combination of poor records (note the last line of the article, "'A kid may not know his birthday,' Stanley said. 'They don’t have cake and ice cream.'”) and parents hoping that their kids could get to the US and perhaps a better way of life. Nonetheless it's not right to lie about a child's age or to expect younger kids to compete against older kids no matter the circumstances. That said, it seems like parents/authorizes are most likely to LIE about children's ages when they come from poorer countries or repressive regimes (Uganda, Dominican Republic, China, for example); whereas more affluent parents, like those in the US, are more likely to manipulate their children's ages to give them the best advantages within a particular system.

Is your child's summer camp counselor qualified?

UPDATE: While I believe these issues are always relevant, hearing of the death of 12-year-old Joshua Thibodeau at a soccer camp in Holden, MA this week really made it real. While it appears his death was a terrible tragedy that could not have been prevented-- and that the soccer camp staff did everything correctly-- it is a reminder that worrying about safe conditions (especially during a summer heat wave) is not silly. Earlier this month The New York Times ran an interesting article on the changing economics of summer sleep-away camps. My favorite line from the piece was: "'It is not enough anymore to just go to camp to have fun and make friends and improve independence and self-esteem,' Mr. Black says. 'Some parents want actual takeaways. They want to see skills, achievements, patches and certificates.'"  The desire for credentials and accolades in childhood is definitely heightened nowadays and because of this specialized camps and counselors are sought so that "the best" can teach kids how to be "the best." But just who are these camp counselors, and how credentialed are they to be awarding credentials to young kids?

The ease with which someone can claim to be a coach or teacher became clear to me when I attended a week-long soccer camp during fieldwork for my dissertation (and book), Playing to Win: Raising Children in a Competitive Culture.  I met the owner of the “Northeastern States Soccer Camp” (name has been changed) at a State Soccer Expo I attended the previous winter.  Whenever I walked by his booth he tried to get me to take one of his brochures to send my child to his camp.  Finally, not wanting to be rude, I explained that I was not interested in sending my child because I did not have any children and that I was attending the Expo doing research.  Being a graduate of one of my alma maters, he offered to help by inviting me to attend one of the camps to see how a sleep-away summer soccer camp is run.

Over the next few months we spoke several times and he asked if I would consider being a coach.  I clearly explained on multiple occasions that I had no soccer skills but that I could be a counselor, living with the kids in their dorm and supervising them.  When I arrived at the camp I discovered that I was supposed to be in charge of training a group of participants—whose parents paid nearly $700 for the week under the impression that their children would receive top-of-the-line coaching and training.  I immediately protested and again volunteered to help in other ways, like doing registration and working in the camp store.

The camp that week was understaffed when it came to coaching so the director tried to convince me to run drills.  Again I said I had no knowledge to run those drills or give corrections.  The director was frustrated with my unwillingness to serve as a “coach.” After two days of feeling deeply uncomfortable I decided to leave the camp.  The experience showed me how easy it is for someone to pass themselves off as a coach, even in a reputable program, when they actually have no substantive knowledge of the focal activity.

It is shockingly easy for individuals to go into business and exploit families in the world of competitive children’s activities simply by applying a veneer of professionalism. Parents invest a great deal of money in their children’s participation, and many teachers and coaches and other entrepreneurs are there with their hands out, ready to accept whatever people can give, often asking for more.  Legal scholars, like Laura Rosenbury, have written about how unregulated the space between school and family life is, and competitive children’s activities-- and summer camps-- certainly occupy this space.  I've previously written about what to look for when signing your children up for afterschool activities, and the same rules apply here: expertise, teaching, and safety. Be sure to check on the credentials of your child's camp counselor before signing on the dotted line.

What if JonBenet did competitive dance?: Dance Moms and Toddlers & Tiaras

Wednesdays at 10 pm are really must-see-TV for me. Thanks to my DVR I can watch TLC's tried and true Toddlers & Tiaras and Lifetime's newcomer, Dance Moms. I've long said that in many ways competitive dance and child beauty pageants have a lot in common. Imagine if JonBenét had been a competitive dancer and not a child beauty pageant queen... Well, it seems competitive dance is now getting its place in the crazy sun.

Dance Moms features the Pittsburgh- area students of dance teacher Abby Lee Miller. Miller is a character straight out of central casting. Imagine Mama Rose times a thousand (but they aren't even her kids). But she gets results, with her students winning nationwide, appearing on dance television shows, and dancing professionally. It's not that all of her rules are wrong, but it's the way she sometimes says it to her young students. Miller commented several times throughout the episode that she wants to treat her girls like professionals. Only problem is, they aren't professionals yet-- they are developing dancers and people.

Having studied competitive dance, there are several elements of the shocking show that strongly resonated with my research (oh, and several elements that don't, which I'll get to).

  1. It didn't surprise me at all that one of the moms featured on the show is a former Abby Lee Miller student. Not only have many dance moms done dance themselves, but some I met send their children to the same studio. This usually means they had a great experience-- though in this case it may be some form of Stockholm Syndrome?
  2. Other moms are definitely more critical of dance teachers. At the end of the competition featured in the premiere Miller took a mother to task over a costume mishap. The mom's rejoinder? That Miller works for her since she pays her to teach her daughter dance. Sadly, this is a pretty common refrain not just in dance but across children's competitive activities. And Miller's response was also typical-- this is my business, my livelihood, not an afterschool activity. Both are right, of course. But because afterschool teachers and coaches aren't regulated and credentialed as regular teachers are, they are often seen as careworkers by parents.
  3. At the regional competition several of the girls commented that having their dance teacher with them backstage right before they competed made them more nervous, since she kept giving them corrections. When I interviewed competitive dance girls-- and other competitive kids-- they expressed similar sentiments.  In fact, kids love being around their peers at these events, without their teachers or parents present.  Making friends and building relationships is one of their effective coping strategies for dealing with the stress of competition. As long as there is some adult supervision backstage (an outside party provided by the competition itself), I think this is the best way to help kids learn to cope with competition themselves.
  4. One of the things shown in this episode that shocked viewers the most, based on what I've read on message boards, was Miller's use of "the pyramid." Each week she has one girl at the top, two in the middle, and three at the bottom. I agree that this is particularly extreme and public, but, honestly, this happens all the time in these competitive kids' activities.  Kids who do sports and dance are constantly competing-- not just at organized competitions. They are competing at every practice/rehearsal to see who will be the starter, who will be featured, etc. Miller makes this process more grossly transparent, but clearly it happens and kids and their parents know it. I'm not advocating for "the pyramid" approach, but it's unwise to think it's not a part of participating in any competitive activity.  It's also important to note that not only are kids under constant surveillance by a teacher/coach, but they are also often literally under surveillance by their parents. In Miller's studio there is a "dance jail" where the moms can sit and watch down over the class through a glass mirror. This also famously occurs at many ice skating rinks and gymnastics gyms (if you're interested in these areas, Joan Ryan's Little Girls in Pretty Boxes remains a must read).  Not all dance studios do this-- in fact, I think the best ones don't-- but the sociologist in me can't help but think of a panopticon when I watch the moms watching the dance teacher watch their girls.

So, yes, I was prety surprised by the outright naming of the competitive pyramid even if I understood it's motivations. And that wasn't all I was surprised by in this first episode!

First, it seems absurd to me that a new routine is necessary for every regional competition. This clearly has to be a reality show-inspired practice to keep up maximum drama (Will they pick up the choreography? Will the rhinestones get on the new costumes in time? Who will be featured? Etc.). I can see a small argument that learning new routines quickly is a professional dance skill-- but given that a six-year-old is one of the featured dancers on the show, it seems a touch premature.

Second, and probably most disturbing, was the moms decamping to the bar and getting tipsy during the competition. Now, look, I'm sure as a mom I will indulge in a glass of wine when necessary. I'm not a teetotaler. But, but, but, it was the  two girls of the tipsy moms who had mishaps during the competition. One poor girl got burned or her arm by a curling iron (and it looked pretty painful) at the hands of her mother. The other had the aforementioned costume mishap with a hairband (which a few extra bobby pins would have prevented). I really do hate to be judgmental, but these are safety issues. Also, while some of the competitive parents I met would be happy, and free, to enjoy some alcohol after a competition is over, I know no one who would leave to consume alcohol in the middle of a competitive event.

In ay event, I can't wait to see what Dance Moms continues to bring after this insane first episode (Oh, I did mention cops coming to the studio over an angry mom, didn't I?!). Toddlers & Tiaras continues to entertain, but it has some serious competition.

Speaking of, two quick T&T observations from the past two episodes:

  • As the mom-to-be of a little boy, I admit to having a serious crush on last week's featured pageant "diva", Brock, and his family. I hope whoever my son is, he is as well-adjusted as the adorable Brock. Check him out.
  • Serious child beauty pageant watchers/aficionados: Did you catch Hannah Douglas, former child beauty queen, winning the $10,000 cash at Universal Royalty? Hannah was the original Eden Wood-- long before Eden was born. During the late 90s and early 2000s, Hannah Douglas RULED the pageant circuit, winning a reported $40,000 one summer. At the time she was raised by two dads, who had pageant businesses (they still do-- owning pageant systems, hair and make-up services, photography, etc.), though the dads have since split.  No, this is not Leslie Butler from Living Dolls-- Hannah was a bigger success than Leslie, though both were big names. I heard a rumor that 20-year-old Hannah now has her own baby pageant queen now. Given she tried for the Miss USA system, I'm guessing this was not quite planned... In any event, her out-of-retirement win raised more than a few eyebrows at the pageant. Is it any surprise she won, really?

Pageant Princesses and Math Whizzes

Two of the activities I spent a lot of time studying have been receiving a lot of attention of late-- child beauty pageants and Kumon afterschool learning centers.  Last week The New York Times ran an article on Junior Kumon, a program designed to teach preschool-aged kids how to read and do math. "Fast-tracking to Kindergarten?" has generated a lot of discussion in parenting circles. And, between Botox beauty pageant mom and the Australian child beauty pageant kerfuffle, child beauty pageants are as in the news as they were in the days after JonBenét's death.

An academic article I wrote, "Pageant Princesses and Math Whizzes: Understanding children's activities as a form of children's work," which appeared in arguably the top childhood studies journal, Childhood, actually compares child beauty pageant moms and Kumon parents.  These two groups of parents may seem to have little in common. On a basic level, many assume that parents who value beauty are somehow different from parents who value academic achievement. But I show that despite considerable differences in their backgrounds, these parents converge in the reasons they give for enrolling their young children in these activities, and in their focus on their children’s careers and future achievements.

I want to tell you a bit more about Kumon, as it is less well-known, and there are some misconceptions about how it works. Kumon was founded in 1954 in Japan by a high school mathematics teacher to help prepare children for state examinations. The company expanded to North America in 1974, opening a center in New York City. The method began to spread, especially along the East and West Coasts, where there were East Asian immigrants. By 2005, Kumon's enrollment was about 4 million, and remarkably it was the fourth-fastest-growing franchise (behind Subway, for example) in the US.  In 2009 there were over 1300 centers in North America.

Kumon actually demands a fairly high level of parental involvement. Kumon requires parents to make sure that children complete their homework and then the parents must check the homework in a master book they received after paying tuition. It is only after seeing what a child is doing wrong on the worksheets that a paid instructor becomes involved. Essentially, as one mother said to me, Kumon is providing books and worksheets, but not much instruction. On some level, as with pageants, when the child walks into a ‘lesson’ to be evaluated or take a test, it is as much about how the parent has prepared the child to succeed as it is about the child’s own abilities.

It is true that Kumon relies on repetition and rote memorization. The Kumon method is fairly simple. It is based on the premise that by breaking things into manageable units and drilling those units every day through practice, a child will progress. There are two set curricula, one devoted to mathematics and one devoted to reading, and students can choose to do only one or to do both. The other major pedagogical touchstone is that children should start slightly below their level to build their confidence.

But it is the rote memorization and repetition, which may build confidence, that was the attraction for the Kumon parents I met.  I spent one summer hanging out at night at a Kumon center.  At the location where I was I met almost exclusively immigrant parents-- both East Asian and South Asian. Of the thirty parents who I formally interviewed, 93% were born outside of the US (contrast that to the 95% of the 41 pageant moms I met).  They felt that particularly when it comes to mathematics, the US educational system lags behind the way they were taught in their home countries.  Most of these parents are professionals who use mathematics in creative ways in their jobs.  So they do want their children to learn to be creative and innovative. However, they felt this occurs best after a child has mastered the fundamentals so soundly in childhood that they do not need to think about, say, multiplication tables. Only after the foundation is well established can creativity be attained.  This is true not only for many Asian parents, but also reportedly for Russian parents (this was told to me by Kumon instructors).

Here then we can see two important strands then that have come together in modern American life and parenting-- immigrant striving and middle- and upper-middle class insecurity.  Kumon has been transformed from a site almost exclusively of immigrants to white, affluent parents, who are enrolling their kids, at least according to the Times, to help them get ahead in the education arms race that has begun earlier than ever.  Why? In a time of economic and educational uncertainty, many parents (not just those who are innately competitive and perhaps driven by other varied psychological motives) don't want to risk not giving their child every chance to "get ahead."

But what does it say that we criticize what is presented as "extreme" parenting both when it comes to education and when it comes to beauty? Do these criticisms arise from the same source, or are they something else? I think they spring from the same source, and choices of parents are largely dictated by their own social backgrounds. What do you think?

Final note: I'm calling it now. Five-year-old Mabou Loiseau will become the next big parenting story.  Prodded by her immigrant parents (her family is not affluent, as her father works 16 hours a day as a parking attendant to help pay for all of Mabou's private lessons), Mabou is homeschooled and she can now "speak" seven languages and play six instruments. Favorite line in the article from the Daily News? "Her mom recently got rid of the kitchen table to make room for a full-size drum set...'Furniture is not important. Education is.'"

This reminded me of "I Speak Six Languages" from The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. A wonderful musical-- I actually got to see it on Broadway when Jesse Tyler Ferguson (Mitchell on Modern Family) originated Leaf Coneybear.  Never seen it? Here's a taste.

Shrinking and Pinking: Stars of the Future

This edition of Shrinking and Pinking starts with the shrinking component-- though with a focus on the shrinking of athletes' ages, not the clothes they wear.

Have you heard about Baerke van der Meij? Van der Meij has become a YouTube star for his soccer skills. Based on that video the Dutch soccer club VVV-Venlo signed him to a ten-year contract. Why is this newsworthy? Because van der Meij is... eighteen months old.

This is not a joke, as I myself first thought. The contract is mainly symbolic, but the club does want first dibs on him once he hits seven and can actually start seriously playing.  Little Baerke seems to have some serious soccer talent already (check out his toy box kicks) and his grandfather played for for the club in the late 1950s and early 1960s.  It seems that the press conference where Baerke signed his contract was pretty tongue in cheek though (he scribbled his name, had some orange juice to celebrate, etc.).  But note that the Dutch do take their soccer seriously (for a fantastic piece on Dutch soccer training methods for kids read last year's New York Times Magazine piece by Michael Sokolove).  Only time will tell if Baerke van der Meij delivers on his toddler promise.

Alexis "Lexi" Thompson is a bit older than Baerke, at 16, but she still qualifies as a promising star of the future.  She's been a phenom since age 12, when she qualified for the US Women's Open.  At 15, Thompson was the youngest female golfer to turn professional, about a year ago. Last weekend she almost became the youngest LPGA winner at the Avnet LPGA Classic; Thompson stumbled at the very end, hitting two shots into the water, and she ended up 19th (though she still took home a $14,715 check).

Despite the setback, Lexi Thompson still has about two more years to become the youngest tour winner ever-- an example of shrinking age standards and higher expectations than ever for young athletes.

FYI-- seems Thompson also likes to play in pink.

Last weekend another group of female athletes were given the chance to make some history of their own.  The Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association added wrestling as a girls' sport. It's the first time in eleven years that a new high school sport has been added (the last one was girls' hockey). Only 84 Massachusetts girls participated in high school wrestling last year, so there likely won't be girls' teams for some time.  However, there likely will be an individual tournament for girls (this was an idea I wrote about related to the dust-up at the Iowa state wrestling championships a few months ago).  It's great that more female athletes will get the chance to represent their high schools and compete against their peers. Hopefully more states will follow suit.

Look forward to seeing who will become the female wrestling stars of the future, when Lexi Thompson will win her first major, and how good a soccer player Baerke can der Meij will be... in eighteen years or so!