CHILDHOOD IS FOR CHILDREN

DESPITE ALL THE TALK about putting children first, our society is becoming increasingly hostile to its young. How different schools and homes would be if parents and educators would defend youngsters' right to a child­hood, instead of fixating on their progress and success.

The pressure to excel is undermining child­hood as never before. Naturally, parents have always wanted their offspring to "do well," both academically and socially. No one wants his or her kid to be the slowest in the class or the last to be chosen in a pick-up game. Yet, what is it about the culture we live in that has made that natural worry into such an obsessive fear, and what is it doing to our children? Why are we so keen to mold them into successful adults, instead of treasuring their carefree innocence?

Jonathan Kozol, a best-selling author and children's advocate, puts it bluntly: "Up to the age of 11 or maybe 12, the gentleness and honesty of children is so apparent. Our soci­ety has missed an opportunity to seize that moment. It's almost as though we view those qualities as useless, as though we don't value children for their gentleness, but only as future economic units, as future workers, as future assets and deficits."

Of all the ways in which we push kids to meet adult expectations, the trend toward high-pressure academics may be the most widespread, and the worst, I say "worst" be­cause of the age at which we begin to subject them to it and the fact that, for some of them, school quickly becomes a place they dread and a source of misery they cannot escape for months at a time.

In my book, Endangered: Your Child in a Hostile World, I quote Melinda, a veteran preschool teacher in California: "We have parents asking whether their two-and-a-half-year-olds are learning to read yet, and grumbling if they can't. I see kids literally shaking and crying because they don't want to go in to testing. I’ve even seen parents dragging their child into the room."

Childhood itself has come to be viewed as a suspect phase. Children of all ages and means are being squelched on the playground and in class, not because they are unmanageable or unruly, but simply because they are behaving as youngsters should. Diagnosed with "problems" that used to be recognized as normal childhood traits—impulsiveness and exuberance, spontaneity and daring—thousands of kids are being diagnosed as hyperactive and drugged into submission.

I am referring, of course, to the widespread use of Ritalin and to the public's fascination with medicine as the answer to any and every problem. Given the fivefold increase in Rital­in prescriptions in the last decade, one has to wonder if it isn't being misused to rein in lively children who may not even have attention deficit-hyperactivity disorder. After all, much of what is designated as ADHD is nothing more than a defense against overstructuring— a natural reflex that used to be called letting off steam or, alternately, a symptom of various unmet emotional needs.

More and more, it seems that we have lost sight of the "child" in childhood and turned it into a joyless training camp for the adult world. We have abandoned the idea of education as growth and decided to see it only as a ticket to the job market. Guided by charts and graphs, and cheered on by experts, we have turned our backs on the value of uniqueness and creativity and fallen instead for the lie that the only way to measure progress is a standardized test.

Children ought to be stretched and intellectually stimulated. They should be taught to ar­ticulate their feelings, to write, read, develop and defend an idea, and think critically. However, what is the purpose of the best academic education if it fails to prepare young people for the "real" world beyond the confines of the classroom? What about those life skills that can never be taught by putting kids on a bus and sending them to school?

As for the things that schools are supposed to teach, even they are not always passed on. Writer John Taylor Gatto points out that, even though American pupils sit through an average of 12,000 hours of compulsory academic instruction, there are plenty who leave the system as 18-year-olds who still can't read a book or calculate a batting average—let alone repair a faucet or change a flat.

It is not just schools that are pressuring kids into growing up too fast. The practice of rushing them into adulthood is so widely accepted and so thoroughly ingrained that people often go blank when you voice concern about the matter. Take, for example, the number of parents who tie up their children's afterschool hours in extracurricular activities. On the surface, the explosion of opportunities for "growth" in areas like music and sports looks like the perfect answer to the boredom faced by millions of latchkey kids, but the reality is not always so pretty.

It is one thing when a child picks up a hobby, a sport, or an instrument on his or her own steam, but quite another when the driving force is a parent with an overly com-petitive edge. In one family I know, their daughter showed a genuine talent for the piano in the second grade, but by the time she was in the sixth, she wouldn't touch a keyboard for any amount of coaxing. She was tired of the attention, sick of lessons (her father was al­ways reminding her what a privilege they were), and virtually traumatized by the strain of having been pushed through one competition after another. The pattem is all too familiar: ambitious expectations are followed by the pressure to meet them, and what was once a perfectly happy part of a youngster's life becomes a burden that is impossible to bear.

As an author, I became aware, after completing my first book, of something I had nev­er noticed previously—the importance of white space. I am referring to the room between the lines of type, the margins, extra space at the beginning of a chapter, and/or a page left blank at the beginning of a book. It allows the type to "breathe" and gives the eye a place to rest. White space is not something you are conscious of when you read a book. It is what isn't there.

Just as books require white space, so do children. That is, they need room to grow. Nevertheless, too many children aren't getting that. The ancient Chinese philosopher Lao-Tzu reminds us that "it is not the clay the potter throws that gives the jar its usefulness, but the space within."

Certainly, there is nothing wrong with giving kids chores and requiring them to carry out the tasks on a daily basis. However, the way many parents overbook their children, emotionally and time-wise, robs them of the space and flexibility they need to develop at their own pace. They need stimulation and guidance. but also need time to themselves. Hours spent alone in daydreams or quiet, unstructured activities instill a sense of security and independence and provide a necessary lull in the rhythm of the day.

It is a beautiful thing to see kids absorbed in play. In fact, it is hard to think of a purer, more spiritual activity. Play brings joy, contentment, and detachment from the troubles of the day. Especially nowadays, in our hectic, time- and money-driven culture, the impor­tance of play cannot be emphasized enough. Educator Friedrich Froebel, the father of the modern kindergarten, goes so far as to say that "a child who plays thoroughly and perseveringly, until physical fatigue forbids, will be a determined adult, capable of self-sacrifice both for his own welfare and that of others." In an age when fears of playground injuries and the misguided idea that play interferes with "real" learning has led approximately 40% of the school districts across the country to do away with recess, one can only hope that the wisdom of these words will not go unheeded.

Allowing youngsters the room to grow at their own pace does not mean ignoring them. Clearly, the bedrock of their security from day to day is the knowledge that we who care for them are
always at hand, ready to help them, talk with them, give them what they need, and simply be there for them. How often, though, are we swayed instead by our own ideas of what they want or need?

Isn't the parental desire to have superstar or genius offspring in the first place just another sign of our distorted vision—a reflection of the way we tend to view children as little adults, no matter how loudly we may protest such a "Victorian" idea? The answer, of course, is to drop our adult expectations entirely, to get down on the same level as our children and look them in the eye. Only when we lay aside our ambitions for them will we begin to hear what they are saying, find out what they are thinkin, and see the goals we have set for them from their point of view.

Obviously, every child is different. Some seem to get all the lucky breaks, while others have a rough time simply coping with life. One child consistently brings home perfect scores, while another is always at the bottom of the class. One is gifted and popular, while still another. no matter how hard he or she tries, is always in trouble and often gets for-gotten. As parents, we must refrain from comparing our offspring with others. Above all, we must refrain from pushing them to become something that their unique personal makeup may never allow them to be.

Raising a "good" child is a dubious goal in '"the first place. Getting into trouble can be a vital part of building character. As the Polish pediatrician Janusz Korczak pointed out. "The good child cries very little, he sleeps through the night, he is confident and good-natured. He is well-behaved, convenient, obedient, and good. Yet no consideration is given to the fact that he may grow up to be indolent and stagnant."

It is often hard for parents to see the benefits of having raised a difficult child, even when the outcome is positive. Strange as it may sound, I believe that the more challenging the youngster, the more grateful the parents should be. If anything, the parents of dif­ficult children really ought to be envied, because it is they, more than any others, who are forced to learn the most wonderful secret of parenthood: the true meaning of unconditional love. It is a secret that remains hidden from those whose love is never tested.

When we welcome the prospect of raising a problematic child with these things in mind, we will begin to see our frustrations as moments that can awaken our best qualities. Instead of envying the ease with which our neighbors seem to raise perfect offspring, we will remember that rule-breakers and children who show their horns often make more selfreliant and independent adults than those whose limits are never tried. By helping us to discover the limitations of "goodness" and the boredom of conformity, they can teach us the necessity of genuineness, the wisdom of humility, and the reality that nothing good is won without struggle.

"Unlearning" our adult mindsets is never easy, especially at the end of a long day, when children sometimes seem more of a bother than a gift. When there are kids around, things just don't always go as planned. Furniture gets scratched, flowerbeds trampled, new clothes torn or muddied, and toys lost and broken. Children want to have fun, to run in the aisles. They need space to be rambunc-tious, silly, and noisy. After all, they are not china dolls or little adults, but unpredictable rascals with sticky fingers and runny noses who sometimes cry at night. If we truly love them, we will welcome them as they are. *

Johann Christoph Arnold is a children 's advocate, family counselor, father of eight, and author of Endangered: Your Child in a Hostile World.

[Publicado en la revista USA TODAY * JULY 2001]

CUESTIONARIO
ELIGE OCHO PREGUNTAS DE LAS SIGUIENTES Y CONTÉSTALAS DE ACUERDO CON LO QUE SE MENCIONA EN ESTE TEXTO

1. ¿Qué suposición se menciona en el primer párrafo?
2. según Kozol ¿qué son los niños para los adultos?
3. ¿De qué problema se habla en el párrafo IV?
4. Según los párrafos VI y VII ¿cuál es el comportamiento normal de los niños y qué hacen los adultos ante ello?
5. ¿Cuáles son las sugerencias que da el autor?
6. ¿Qué situación señala John Taylor Gatto?
7. ¿Qué ejemplo se menciona de la presión que ejercen los adultos sobre los niños? (párrafo XI)
8. ¿Qué es el espacio en blanco (white space) y cómo se relaciona con el tema de la niñez?
9. Escribe en español la cita de Lao Tzu.
10. Según Froebel ¿cómo beneficia el juego a los niños?
11. ¿A qué se refiere el 40% que aparece en el párrafo XVI?
12. Escribe en español la idea principal del párrafo XVIII?
13. Según el párrafo XXI ¿cuál es “el más maravilloso secreto de la paternidad”?