Audience: Parent

I recently returned from visiting my older daughter, who works in Dallas. After a lovely day visiting some old friends, her office complex and the JFK museum, we headed out to dinner. Since we were treating, my daughter picked a highly regarded restaurant known for its casual atmosphere and fabulous food. We felt she had made a great choice from the minute we walked in. The waiter was in top form and the menu had plenty of options for the meat and veggie lovers among us. As is our family rule, phone ringers were turned off and devices were stored, after my daughter sent a quick to text her boyfriend that she would be out of commission for the next couple of hours. About 15 minutes after sitting down, she said “Mom, the family at the next table hasn’t spoken to each other AT ALL since we walked in.” That didn’t sound like it could be right, but now I was curious so I tried to subtly sneak a peek at what was happening “next door”…

As those of us with Lego-obsessed children know, a Lego set is a double-edged invitation. You can create an awesome replica of a familiar story or film scene with easy-to-follow instructions, and you can use the bricks to build, well, whatever you want, however weird, useless, or oddly juxtaposed the result (Cinderella trapped with Darth Vader in a castle that is part Hogwarts, part Death Star, and part Little Friends Dolphin Cruise Ship? Sure why not). I know families who put the instructions-based final product up on a shelf (the only way to preserve it, short of crazy glue). Otherwise, those elaborate final products smash as soon as a child grabs them in anticipation of play. The smashing, we have to think, is part of the design. The Lego Movie takes this double-edged-ness to a question at the heart of…

Massive cheating in school, kids at the nation’s best schools who can’t string two sentences together in an interview, helicopter parents editing (or writing entirely) papers for kids at Ivy League colleges and then asking to come to their kid’s first job performance review! As education researchers, we feel like we have seen it all during the last few years. Despite some horror stories, we are encouraged because the conversation is starting to change.

The current paradigm of success — that it is best measured by outward appearances, grades, trophies and prestigious college acceptances — is not without merit. It stresses persistence, hard work and the American Dream of upward mobility.
However, our over-reliance, I would say singular reliance, on this narrow vision of success has placed enormous stress on students and parents. When we are preoccupied with external markers of success, it is easy to lose sight of the internal skills that are far more predictive of success out in the world.

This week I headed to Maine for a 60th birthday party. Long cross country flights almost always provide an interesting array of parenting choices and this trip was no different. On this entirely full flight I was surrounded by families with young children. Directly beside me was a young mom traveling alone with 2 girls, I would guess about 18 months and 3 years old. They were excited to be on the plane and chatty with their mom, who was well prepared with plenty of snacks and lots of activities. A good start, I thought. Then it got interesting. Mom told the girls that once they took off she was going to take a nap and, once in the air, she handed them their electronics, put her head on the tray table and proceeded to sleep. The girls pretty much played with their devices with a few skirmishes along the way for the entire flight, rousing their mom once when they needed a potty run. As I watched I couldn’t help feeling conflicted. On one hand, I was thinking how great it would h …