‘Our school district was in the New York Times,” Katie informed me. “Oh, that’s good,” I assumed. “No, it’s actually bad; the article talks about student stress in our district and the threat that we could become another Palo Alto” (a high-achieving California community which has experienced two clusters of teen suicides in the last six years.)
I am jumping into the discussion that has been at the center of a heated debate recently, landing our town in the unpleasant glare of the national spotlight. It’s too easy to boil down the issue of academic pressure and stress into one about race and racial tensions, to focus on the possible reasons behind the “white flight” that has taken the Asian population in our district from 30 percent in 1998 (our first year in the district when Katie was in second grade) to its current 65 percent.
That would be too simplistic and irresponsible, even incendiary. It would also be insulting to other ethnic groups in WW-P to suggest that only Asian parents pressure their children to succeed. We all want our children to achieve their highest potential, and our award-winning school district is one of the reasons why our community has become a magnet for families from all over the world.
Which is why I disagree with Superintendent David Aderhold’s decision to remove advanced math for the 4th and 5th grades and begin it in the 6th. It is not right to hold back motivated students with takeaways.
I’m not saying this because we have had any personal experience with the advanced math program. In fact, none of my three children were involved. Katie took some glee, in fact, in divulging recently that in 4th grade she had hidden her math tests from me. Math was a painful subject for us back then.
In 3rd grade Will was flagged for his math talent, but when his teacher suggested he take the placement test for the gifted program, and we asked if he wanted to do that, he was astonished. “Why would I want to?” he asked. We did not push the issue because it would not have ended well.
Then I think about my nephews and how they would fare in our school district. They would fly. For the taxes we pay to live in this town, and for the support — moral, financial and otherwise — that our families give back to our community, it would be wrong to deprive kids like them of opportunities in the name of reducing stress. Danny is a freshman and Brian is an 8th grader at the Singapore American School. I wish I could bottle their enthusiasm for learning. They actually can’t wait for summer vacation to end because they love school so much.
I fully understand how crazy this may sound, as I am the mother of a teenage boy who revels in summer freedom and grumbles at its end. But Danny and Brian are hyper-achieving, super-competitive kids not just in the classroom, but in other endeavors as well. Danny made the varsity swim team as a freshman. Brian is also a competitive swimmer, basketball player, and all-around athlete. One of their favorite goals is to beat their dad (my brother) at Trivial Pursuit; they read books for fun, they love fact-knowledge games like Jeopardy, and I only half-jokingly challenged them to memorize the 2016 World Almanac of Facts I sent them for Christmas. They are smart, well balanced, and well rounded. In the vernacular of the WW-P school district, their school, extracurricular, and emotional lives have benefited from the holistic, “whole child” approach to school that respects “social-emotional development” and “deep and meaningful learning” over academics alone.
All of this said, I also see the other side of the argument from parents and administrators who worry about the fiercely competitive, ultra-high bar raised by a community with a large immigrant population driven to get into a name brand school and make their mark on the American economy. I’ve lived that mantra myself. Full disclosure: of our three children, only one — Molly — spent any time at our local high schools. Her freshman year at North was unhappy, and I have one anecdote that will illustrate why.
She had missed several days because of illness. Upon her return, she asked her science teacher for extra help. “I’m too busy; ask one of your ‘colleagues,’” said this teacher — referring to her classmates. Molly did, and then bombed the test. The student had given her the wrong material to study. You hear stories about the competition and cheating in our schools. You don’t want to give them credibility. To this day, we’d like to believe that this student did not deliberately sabotage Molly. But we really don’t know.
The answer to reducing stress and creating happier kids is not to cut opportunities like accelerated math. The answer is to make more teachers and tutors available for extra help. The answer is to provide more after school programs and to bolster existing ones — to create more opportunities for students of all abilities, talents, and interests to stretch their wings.
One of the turning points that influenced our decision to send Will to private school happened in middle school. Despite a speaking role the previous year, he did not win a role in the school play the next year. The theater director told him not to worry, he could “try out” for stage crew in the spring.
Several months later, a downcast Will announced that he didn’t make stage crew. “There were so many kids who came out for it,” he said. “The teacher chose all the students in the art classes to paint the sets.” One of the teachers told me that budget cuts had reduced so many programs. What a shame.
As a parent, one of my primary responsibilities is to open as many doors as possible for my children. Likewise, it is the responsibility of our school district to create those same kinds of opportunities — at all levels for all kids. Shutting the door on anything, whether it is a talented and gifted math program or the chance to participate in theater, clips our children’s wings even before they know what it means to fly.