Ben: Mom, how do you scratch when there are no mosquitoes?
Translation: What makes you itch besides mosquito bites?
Me: Well... sometimes something tickles you a little, and that itches.
Ben: You're kidding!
Translation: When Daddy tickles me, it doesn't itch.
Ben: What else?
Me: Um... poison ivy...
Ben: Like the play.
Translation: Like Daddy had the time that he had to stay home from a play we were all planning to go to.
Me: Right.
Ben: What else?
Me: Um... well... sometimes you're allergic to something, and that makes you itch.
Ben: Why does lergic scratch you?
Translation: What's allergic?
Me: Allergies are when... uh... your body doesn't like something. Something isn't good for your body -
Ben: Like cotton candy!
Me: Well, no, not unhealthy. Well, I guess it's unhealthy, but not like a food. I mean, you can be allergic to a food, but -
Ben: Let's play cars.
Translation: You suck at explaining things, Mom.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Cheerleaders
Last week Lucy asked if she could have some school friends over to play and, because for once we had a free weekend, I said sure. She chose two kids and I called their parents to see if they were free on Sunday afternoon. The first little girl's father said she would come (without consulting her, which I found a little disturbing), but the mother of the second girl informed me that her daughter is busy on Sunday afternoons because - wait for it - she is a cheerleader.
She is six.
"Wow," I said, "I didn't know six-year-olds could be cheerleaders."
"Oh, they start them at five," she assured me.
"Wow," I said again, not wanting to be rude but not being able to think of anything else on short notice.
"Maybe they can get together when football season is over," the mother suggested. Apparently her daughter doesn't cheer for the basketball team.
"Right," I said, and hung up quickly before I could say something I, and Lucy, would regret.
But now I can say it: five year old cheerleaders? Seriously? Is this a good idea? I mean, I accept that cheerleaders are part of a certain high school culture (although that culture is entirely outside of my own experience, cheerleaders at my large urban public high school having been related to Sandra Dee the way Navy Seals are related to the swim team). But in kindergarten?
It seems that cheering, as it's called by those in the know, has become a competitive sport. Participants are thrown into the air to do various kinds of somersaults and other airborne feats before they are caught again by a teammate. Except when they're not. The Journal of the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons reports that more female athletes suffer catastrophic injuries from cheering than from any other sport. A 13-year study in the journal Pediatrics found a 100% increase in the incidence of pediatric cheering-related injuries over the course of the study. It's not exactly safe, is it? And while I imagine (hope) that the pee-wee squad is not doing the kind of acrobatics that result in quadriplegia, I also imagine that those acrobatics are their goal, the pinnacle for which they are reaching.
And then there's body image. Although young female athletes on average have better body image and lower risk of eating disorders than other girls their age, this does not hold true in sports like gymnastics, ice skating, and dance, where a certain body type is expected of participants. My guess is that cheering falls into this category, although it has yet to be studied in this respect. At best, cheerleading is highly sexualized, making it a questionable choice for the prepubescent set.
Luckily, Lucy shows no interest in her friend's cheering career, so I don't have to have this conversation with her. But it makes me wonder what else is coming down the pike. Will there be belly dancing in second grade? Pole dancing in third? Why can't we let kids be kids and just pretend to be cheerleaders (or astronauts, or firefighters, or belly dancers, or whatever) for a while longer?
She is six.
"Wow," I said, "I didn't know six-year-olds could be cheerleaders."
"Oh, they start them at five," she assured me.
"Wow," I said again, not wanting to be rude but not being able to think of anything else on short notice.
"Maybe they can get together when football season is over," the mother suggested. Apparently her daughter doesn't cheer for the basketball team.
"Right," I said, and hung up quickly before I could say something I, and Lucy, would regret.
But now I can say it: five year old cheerleaders? Seriously? Is this a good idea? I mean, I accept that cheerleaders are part of a certain high school culture (although that culture is entirely outside of my own experience, cheerleaders at my large urban public high school having been related to Sandra Dee the way Navy Seals are related to the swim team). But in kindergarten?
It seems that cheering, as it's called by those in the know, has become a competitive sport. Participants are thrown into the air to do various kinds of somersaults and other airborne feats before they are caught again by a teammate. Except when they're not. The Journal of the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons reports that more female athletes suffer catastrophic injuries from cheering than from any other sport. A 13-year study in the journal Pediatrics found a 100% increase in the incidence of pediatric cheering-related injuries over the course of the study. It's not exactly safe, is it? And while I imagine (hope) that the pee-wee squad is not doing the kind of acrobatics that result in quadriplegia, I also imagine that those acrobatics are their goal, the pinnacle for which they are reaching.
And then there's body image. Although young female athletes on average have better body image and lower risk of eating disorders than other girls their age, this does not hold true in sports like gymnastics, ice skating, and dance, where a certain body type is expected of participants. My guess is that cheering falls into this category, although it has yet to be studied in this respect. At best, cheerleading is highly sexualized, making it a questionable choice for the prepubescent set.
Luckily, Lucy shows no interest in her friend's cheering career, so I don't have to have this conversation with her. But it makes me wonder what else is coming down the pike. Will there be belly dancing in second grade? Pole dancing in third? Why can't we let kids be kids and just pretend to be cheerleaders (or astronauts, or firefighters, or belly dancers, or whatever) for a while longer?
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Soccer
I like soccer. I do. I enjoy playing it (badly), I enjoy watching it, and I respect the men and women who are so good at it. Well, most of them. But I just don't get the whole Soccer Thing.
When the Soccer Thing hits, entire families can be consumed by the kids' soccer schedules. Some of them are at games and/or practices literally every day of the week, leading one to wonder when they do anything else. Laundry, for instance, of which there must be even more than usual due to all that soccer. Less time and more laundry - it sounds like my idea of hell. Why would you do that to yourself?
Well, because you think it's good for your kids, of course, the same reason we do virtually everything else unpleasant, or difficult, or inconvenient. But is it good for kids? In its policy statement on the topic, the American Academy of Pediatrics notes that organized sports can "create demands and expectations that exceed the readiness and capabilities of young participants." Quite a number of researchers have found troubling trends among kids who play organized sports as young children, from a disproportionately high number of injuries to a surprising disinclination to play sports later in life to a distressing correlation between sports participation and classroom cheating.
All of these researchers hasten to point out that it is not the game itself that is bad. Competition, they write, is not a negative influence per se. Rather, it's the attitude of the adults who are involved in the game that matters; when adults value fair play and teamwork over winning, kids do better. Shocker.
Nothing wrong with soccer, nope. But soccer practice every day? Soccer games every weekend? I don't know. It seems like a bit much to me. Plus, I hate laundry.
When the Soccer Thing hits, entire families can be consumed by the kids' soccer schedules. Some of them are at games and/or practices literally every day of the week, leading one to wonder when they do anything else. Laundry, for instance, of which there must be even more than usual due to all that soccer. Less time and more laundry - it sounds like my idea of hell. Why would you do that to yourself?
Well, because you think it's good for your kids, of course, the same reason we do virtually everything else unpleasant, or difficult, or inconvenient. But is it good for kids? In its policy statement on the topic, the American Academy of Pediatrics notes that organized sports can "create demands and expectations that exceed the readiness and capabilities of young participants." Quite a number of researchers have found troubling trends among kids who play organized sports as young children, from a disproportionately high number of injuries to a surprising disinclination to play sports later in life to a distressing correlation between sports participation and classroom cheating.
All of these researchers hasten to point out that it is not the game itself that is bad. Competition, they write, is not a negative influence per se. Rather, it's the attitude of the adults who are involved in the game that matters; when adults value fair play and teamwork over winning, kids do better. Shocker.
Nothing wrong with soccer, nope. But soccer practice every day? Soccer games every weekend? I don't know. It seems like a bit much to me. Plus, I hate laundry.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Texas
I feel that I have no choice but to comment on this story about a school district in Texas which is now allowing teachers to carry concealed firearms to school.
It's hard to say what is most disturbing about this. Is it the implication that the world is fundamentally unsafe and we must be prepared to defend ourselves by force at all times? Is it the fact that this implication will hardly be lost on the children, who will come to believe that the world is a place to be approached not with curiosity and enthusiasm but with fear and trepidation? Or is it the inescapable conclusion that there are teachers out there, people whose job it is to nurture and educate the next generation, who think that this might actually be a good idea?
One friend of mine points out that the likelihood of a teacher putting the gun down - in a desk drawer, in a briefcase - and its being picked up by a child is simply too great to ignore. Another notes that teachers shooting at shooters will only increase casualties, as crazed, suicidal teenage killers are hardly likely to lay down their weapons when faced with authority. A third, somewhat more cynical friend says that as a parent she is frequently grateful that she doesn't have a gun, and that for teachers this gratitude must be multiplied by the number of children in their classes, at least.
In other words, the reasons that this is a bad idea are many and varied, but the fact is this: guns do not belong in schools. Period.
It's hard to say what is most disturbing about this. Is it the implication that the world is fundamentally unsafe and we must be prepared to defend ourselves by force at all times? Is it the fact that this implication will hardly be lost on the children, who will come to believe that the world is a place to be approached not with curiosity and enthusiasm but with fear and trepidation? Or is it the inescapable conclusion that there are teachers out there, people whose job it is to nurture and educate the next generation, who think that this might actually be a good idea?
One friend of mine points out that the likelihood of a teacher putting the gun down - in a desk drawer, in a briefcase - and its being picked up by a child is simply too great to ignore. Another notes that teachers shooting at shooters will only increase casualties, as crazed, suicidal teenage killers are hardly likely to lay down their weapons when faced with authority. A third, somewhat more cynical friend says that as a parent she is frequently grateful that she doesn't have a gun, and that for teachers this gratitude must be multiplied by the number of children in their classes, at least.
In other words, the reasons that this is a bad idea are many and varied, but the fact is this: guns do not belong in schools. Period.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Summer
Lucy's school, along with every other elementary school in our county, gives the children workbooks at the end of the school year to work on over the summer. The goal of this program is to minimize the "skill loss" that inevitably occurs over the months of vacation, and because I am apparently still deeply conflicted about school in general I have mixed feelings about it.
On the one hand, I actually believe that children should go to school year-round and have four or five shorter breaks throughout the year rather than one extremely long break over the summer. This is the subject of a different post, so I'll save you the lengthy explanation. Suffice it to say that I do not see schoolwork in the summer as the blasphemy that some do.
On the other hand, I hate to be compelled to do anything. (I hear my family laughing uproariously as they read that.) My gut reaction to the school telling me that Lucy has to work on something over summer vacation is, "you can't make me!"
So when the workbook came home, I told Lucy she could work on it if she wanted to, but she didn't have to. Naturally, because she was not being compelled and because she is at least as much an academic personality as her parents are, she worked diligently and seemed to enjoy it. I don't know how much she got out of it academically, but it kept her in touch with the idea of school and with the kind of activities one does there. Far from being a burden, it gave her something to do when she was at loose ends. Furthermore, the school hosted three evening events over the summer where kids could bring their workbooks and have them checked by teachers. They did some crafts and handed out root beer floats. It was, dare I say, fun.
And once again I am reminded that school/home and learning/vacationing are false dichotomies.
On the one hand, I actually believe that children should go to school year-round and have four or five shorter breaks throughout the year rather than one extremely long break over the summer. This is the subject of a different post, so I'll save you the lengthy explanation. Suffice it to say that I do not see schoolwork in the summer as the blasphemy that some do.
On the other hand, I hate to be compelled to do anything. (I hear my family laughing uproariously as they read that.) My gut reaction to the school telling me that Lucy has to work on something over summer vacation is, "you can't make me!"
So when the workbook came home, I told Lucy she could work on it if she wanted to, but she didn't have to. Naturally, because she was not being compelled and because she is at least as much an academic personality as her parents are, she worked diligently and seemed to enjoy it. I don't know how much she got out of it academically, but it kept her in touch with the idea of school and with the kind of activities one does there. Far from being a burden, it gave her something to do when she was at loose ends. Furthermore, the school hosted three evening events over the summer where kids could bring their workbooks and have them checked by teachers. They did some crafts and handed out root beer floats. It was, dare I say, fun.
And once again I am reminded that school/home and learning/vacationing are false dichotomies.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)