If Amy Chua, aka the Tiger Mom,
can do it, why can’t Lenore Chu?
The Tiger Mom rejected the
American way of bringing up children and adopted a more traditional Chinese
approach. Chu took her one better. She enrolled her children in a state run
school in Shanghai. When her husband started working in Shanghai she placed her three year old in the local school. Presumably, she could have sent
him to a more international school.
The child was three when he began
school. At home, he had refused to eat fried eggs. His schoolteacher solved the
problem … by forcing him to eat the eggs. She put the eggs in his mouth and he spit
them out. Instead of showing empathy the teacher kept putting
more egg in his mouth until he swallowed it.
Chu was horrified at this abusive treatment. Since she spoke Mandarin fluently she went to the school to confront the
teacher.
This is what ensued:
The
next day, I marched off to school to confront Teacher Chen about the egg
episode, brash in my conviction about individual choice.
“We
don’t use such methods of force in America,” I blurted in Mandarin, my son
clutching my hand. (I was born and raised in America but grew up speaking
Chinese at home.)
“Oh?
How do you do it?” Teacher Chen challenged.
“We
explain that egg eating is good for them, that the nutrients help build strong
bones and teeth and helps with eyesight,” I said, trying to sound
authoritative. “We motivate them to choose…we trust them with the decision.”
“Does
it work?” Teacher Chen challenged.
In
truth, no. I’d never been able to get my son to eat eggs. He’s a picky eater. Later,
Teacher Chen pulled me aside for a lecture. “In front of the children, you
should say, ‘Teacher is right, and Mom will do things the same way,’ OK?”
China is a filial piety culture. The young are taught to
respect their elders. The younger they are the more unquestioning the
acceptance should be. In such a culture, teachers command respect. They are not
therapists. They do not expect three year olds to make independent decisions.
They do not try to understand a child’s viewpoint. They assert
their authority and make sure that children respect them.
On academic performance tests, Chinese students far
outperform their American peers. Chu explains:
Researchers
have found that 6-year-old Chinese children trounce their American peers in
early math skills, including geometry and logic. In the past decade, Shanghai
teens twice took No. 1 in the world on a test called PISA, which assesses
problem-solving skills, while American students landed in the middle of the
pack.
When
young Chinese head abroad, the results are impressive. They are earning more
spots at the world’s top universities. The Ivy League enrolls eight times more
Chinese undergraduates than a decade ago, according to the Institute of
International Education, and the Chinese are helping to launch Silicon Valley
startups in disproportionate numbers.
In America, Chu continues, teacher Chen would have been
attacked for being abusive:
Force-feeding
would get a teacher dragged into court in the U.S., the land of infant choice,
free-form play and individualized everything. In China, children are also
subjected to high-stakes testing at every turn, which keeps them bent over
books from toddlerhood on.
What advantages does Chu find in the Chinese approach?
Discipline, love of school and a superior ability to learn geometry and programming:
As I
worked through my anxieties about submitting to this kind of system, I began to
observe that when parents fall in line with teachers, so do their children.
This deference gives the teacher near-absolute command of her classroom. My son
became so afraid of being late for class, missing school or otherwise
disappointing his teacher, that he once raised a stink when I broached the
possibility of missing a few school days for a family trip. He was 5.
Many subjects are best learned when children respect the
fact that the teacher possess knowledge:
Having
the teacher as an unquestioned authority in the classroom gives students a leg
up in subjects such as geometry and computer programming, which are more
effectively taught through direct instruction (versus student-led discovery),
according to a 2004 study of 112 third- and fourth-graders
published in the journal Psychological Science. A
2014 study of more than 13,000 students in the journal Educational
Evaluation and Policy Analysis found that math-challenged first-graders learned
more effectively when teachers demonstrated problem-solving procedures and
followed up with repeated practice.
Evidently, this is not Socratic learning. And it is not
Common Core math. The approach does not expect children to figure it out for
themselves. It shows them how it’s done and forces them to practice it by rote
until they have mastered it.
American teachers often do not have the luxury of teaching math at
all. According to Chu they spend too much of their time trying to discipline
their unruly, undisciplined, disrespectful charges.
In China, each child is treated as a member of a group, not
as a unique individual. In America, every child is treated as an individual seeking self-actualization,
with a strong parental advocate constantly challenging the authority of
teachers:
But
Americans have arguably gone too far in the other direction, elevating the
needs of individual students to the detriment of the group. Some parents think
nothing of sending an unvaccinated child to school—ignoring community health—or
petitioning to move school start times to accommodate sports schedules.
Meanwhile, teacher friends tell me that they are spending more time dealing
with “problem” students, often through intervention programs that whittle away
teachers’ time with the rest of the class.
Children in Chinese schools learn the work ethic. They are taught to work as hard as they can. These schools
assume that children can do the work and that if they do not do it they need
merely to work harder:
Another
bracing Chinese belief is that hard work trumps innate talent when it comes to
academics. Equipped with flashcards and ready to practice, my son’s Chinese
language teacher knows that he is capable of learning the 3,500 characters
required for literacy. His primary school math teacher gives no child a free
pass on triple-digit arithmetic and, in fact, stays after school to help
laggards. China’s school system breeds a Chinese-style grit, which delivers the
daily message that perseverance—not intelligence or ability—is key to success.
In an approach that recalls the Tiger Mom, Chu
explains:
Chinese
kids are used to struggling through difficult content, and they believe that
success is within reach of anyone willing to work for it. This attitude gives
policy makers in China great latitude when it comes to setting out and
enforcing higher standards.
In the
U.S., parents have often revolted as policy makers try to push through similar
measures. In part, we are afraid that Johnny will feel bad about himself if he
can’t make the grade. What if, instead, Johnny’s parents—and his teacher,
too—believed that the boy could learn challenging math with enough dedicated
effort?
American parents, infused with psychobabble, believe that
the Chinese approach must produce children who are robotic automatons. They are
shocked to see that, with Chu’s children, such is not the case:
When I
tell the story of my son’s Chinese educational experience to American friends,
they gasp. When they spend time with him, they are surprised that he doesn’t
cower in the corner or obey commands like a Labrador retriever. My son is
imaginative when he draws, and has a great sense of humor and a mean forehand
in tennis. None of these qualities has slipped away, and I now share the
Chinese belief that even very young kids are capable of developing a range of
demanding talents.
We do well to consider this approach an opening gambit.
Surely, talent, ability and intelligence matter. The Chinese do not
prejudge any child’s talent before the fact. They assume the best and expect that performance that will prove it. If the performance is lacking the children
follow different educational pathways.
At the
same time, China’s education landscape is littered with dropouts in a system
that perpetuates an underclass: Children who fail to test into regular high
schools would populate a city the size of London each year. Because of the high
stakes, families sometimes take extreme measures, including cheating and
bribery.
5 comments:
It not egg. It not young. It just foo.
Clearly, China is not like America. Mrs. Chu somehow missed that message.
As always, articles like this conflate causation with correlation. It's possible that these kids would be at Ivy League colleges in spite of the gulag mentality schooling, or might have done better without it. And, given the enormous number of available Chinese students, that Chinese students are achieving at high levels in such numbers should be no surprise.
In every sport I've been involved in that had a youth division it was common to see kids, fully supported by parents living vicariously through them, rise in talent to become exceptional, and just as common for all that to end once the kid discovered the opposite sex.
If a parent laid a hand on my kid by force feeding him or for any other non-disciplinary reason, I'd show up at the school and there'd be total hell to pay.
I see there is a desire to believe there is only one way, so we get two divergent extremes, one where "never harm a child" side sees abuse in every moment when the child's will is thwarted, while the "spare the rod, spoil the child" side sees abuse in letting a child grow up without learning the world is a dangerous place that doesn't care how he/she feel.
Challenging authority (like the terrible twos) can feel powerful but unexpectedly accepting submission to authority can feel safe (when you have something to learn), and those two impulses rarely talk to each other.
The biggest predicament is that authority we don't like is often just, while authority we do like can as often be unjust. So at least all will agree that just authority is the goal, even if we can't always agree what is just.
And some may agree when a teacher uses violence (like forced feeding or caning for punishment), they also teach unwanted lessons - that violence from the strong to the weak is acceptable, as long as the strong thinks they have a good reason.
We raised 5 kids in what I would characterize as a "mid-way" point between the stern and the Spockian. All graduated college, 4 have great jobs (one is the home-Dad and does a good job of that). All are drug-free, never in jail, and married their sweethearts before they had kids. So, we did something right. Our rules:
Give respect to teachers who deserve respect, and assume they deserve it until they prove otherwise. Teachers are ma'am and sir, not Susan and Tom.
Do what you are asked to do without sassing back (yeah, we're from Texas).
Finish your home-work before you turn on the video games.
Go to church with your family (never had a problem with them on that one).
Try something new in electives, but you don't have to stick with something you don't like.
Do your home-work.
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