Taking a Deep Dive

When my husband and I sought admission to a pre-kindergarten program for our then three-year old son, I distinctly remember the parents, after dropping their children at the door, gathering in a circle elsewhere to discuss the program with the admissions director. We were promptly asked to supply three adjectives that best described our child. That question was akin to conveying my greatest weakness on a job application. Hmm, “I have a tendency to work too much?” or, perhaps, “I am a perfectionist?” As all of the other parents – who would ultimately become cohorts – shared their responses, I remember listening to the “smart,” “bright,” “athletic,” responses that fell from their lips. I was well aware that the exercise was likely conveying more about the parents than about their children, which only increased the pressure to supply a meaningful answer that would not later evoke a cringe. Who among us would reply authentically when admission lay in the balance? This was not New York, but pre-K programs held limited spots, and my husband and I had concluded that this fun-focused program would be a good fit for our child.

 Today, I can only remember two of the adjectives we chose, and as I reflect on those two adjectives, I thankfully do not cringe: lovable and curious. While lovable is what we all hope we can say about our children and certainly, as parents, seemed evident to us about our son, the second adjective was applicable to our son but probably also contained some hope on our part that our child would lean into that adjective in time. To this day, I believe that curiosity is a quality that most students and adults should target and, sadly, a quality that many of us lack.

 Parents push their children to focus on their transcripts: “Bring home the grades to keep doors open!” I too subscribe to this tactic, but do we push curiosity enough? Curiosity, when developed as a habit, elevates classwork and improves grades.

 One of the primary concerns parents express to me as an academic coach is that their child does not know how to study. While gaining access to resource materials that can aid studying is something I regularly supply, part of strong preparation involves curiosity. A student who approaches a class with curiosity, who asks a question beyond the text, who wonders about a closely tangential topic, and who draws connections across subject matters will usually be more prepared to answer essay and short answer questions. On the other hand, a student who drills the teacher on exactly what will be on the test and is miffed when its content is in any way surprising, may lack sufficient curiosity. Churning out homework robotically and hyper-focusing on grades contributes to our children’s disconnect, their listlessness, and their anxiety.

 We often plead busyness when asked why we do not delve more deeply into subjects or interests. We just have too much on our collective plates. Technology has compounded that perception. As parents, though, we need to guide our teenagers to slow down in the moment, to absorb, and to indulge. Asking genuine and thoughtful questions may be what is necessary to engage that anxious student, to ease his or her anxieties, and to make test preparation easier. Curiosity outside the classroom is equally important; lifelong learning, as teenagers and as adults, feeds the soul, improves our self-confidence, and drives inspiration. Let’s all try to slow down, develop, and explore our curiosities.

Building Optimism and Confidence

In my job, I strive to recognize patterns. A student’s lack of eye contact, disorganized notebook, or excessive timidity can signal to me potential academic issues on the horizon. I have tried to become attuned to the signs, and I am usually on track.

The same is true in my personal life. I am the parent who is quick to point out what might go awry with our best-laid plans. From my perspective, I try to keep my tone in check and am not pessimistic – at least not usually [sigh]. I aim to use my eagle eye to navigate a path with as few pitfalls as possible, enabling the best opportunity for success.

My husband, on the other hand, is a perpetual optimist. His response to any approaching catastrophe, as my family can attest, is to forecast unequivocally that it will be fine. True to form, he is usually correct, but our parenting approach has, therefore, become, much to my chagrin, an unplanned strategy of “good cop/bad cop,” with me in the role of the killjoy.

My keen awareness of oncoming issues is of great value, but I have learned that when working with students (because my husband is not around), my anticipation works best when paired with optimism. Because I assume both roles, good cop and bad cop when coaching, I try to lead with optimism. Indeed, as we emerge from the pandemic, I am calling for more optimism in my life and in the lives of my students.

Optimism deeply affects our high school children. Their self-confidence and their dreams hinge on our belief in them. I work to build and to rebuild confidence in my students daily, yet often at home, as parents, we carelessly plant seeds of doubt in our children as we anticipate risks. We must resist the urge to warn our children that a single grade could decimate their chances in college admissions, that they won’t get into an undergraduate business program if they do not fill their resumés now with strong summer internships, or that they must take five AP classes during their junior year to improve their class rank. We all occasionally slip into killjoy territory with a hyperbolic response, but this fear messaging harms our children. We must tone down these overwrought threats in favor of positivity, particularly when navigating high school and the college application process.

I preach positive self-talk to my students. I do not tolerate the words, “I can’t,” “I hate,” or “I’m bad at.“ As parents, we must promote a positive self-image, too. Let’s not lie to our children, as we all have relative weaknesses, but let’s teach our children to lead with their strengths and to shore up their weaknesses.

Choosing optimism in an often-dark world can be a difficult choice, but when our own worries seep into our parental rhetoric, we run the risk of damaging our children’s hope and self-image. Our children are our biggest and most valuable investment. Let’s infuse them with a can-do and confident spirit.

Playing the Long Game

I, along with most of you, live in a world of instant gratification. When I woke up this morning, the incoming light seemed darker than usual. I asked Alexa, while still lying in bed, for the weather report and learned that, yes, rain was in the forecast today. I gained up-to-date information about temperature predictions, so I could select appropriate attire. I then listened to the news as I prepared my instantly-brewed coffee, but I missed a name, location, or detail. I quickly pulled up the relevant news article online to quell my curiosities. As I put on my shoes to walk my dog, I realized that I was past due for new sneakers. My feet will not suffer much longer; my fresh footwear will be here in just a few days.

I can still remember, though, working very hard for simple purchases as a young teen. I earned just one dollar per hour while babysitting the neighborhood children, even the wayward ones. I’d save my pennies in an old-fashioned piggy bank and treat myself to a 45 record at Peaches Records & Tapes, and I usually purchased just one record at a time – always for its A-side, unfamiliar with its B-side. I savored my selections. I spent hours in my room listening to the same songs again and again. I feel certain that my musical enjoyment was heightened because I had worked so hard to earn those records.

Today’s children, though, are accustomed to instant gratification. Rarely do they have time to nurture curiosities and desires. Instead, their questions are answered with a quick Google search; no visits to the library or even the encyclopedia are required. They usually do not listen to the same songs repeatedly because available music choices are easily accessible and cannot be contained in a cardboard box. As a result, I fear that some enjoyment for our children is bounded. With these limited payoffs, their investment in curiosities and quests is curtailed.

This generation is, therefore, less and less willing to play the long game, to aim for perfection in their work when perfection requires exertion. I was reminded of this generational discrepancy when reading a Wall Street Journal article this week: “If Your Co-Workers Are ‘Quiet Quitting,’ Here’s What That Means.” In short, this article explains that Generation Z is saying “no” to the hustle culture, whether they do so because they are over-stressed, burnt out, unhappy, or detached. Applying these warning signs to our high school children, we must find a way to engage our children, particularly as we stand on the precipice of another school year.

To engage our children in the long game of schooling, they must feel ownership: They must have skin in the game. We must start talking to our high school children as if they are adults. Our children should have some say in their class choices, their extracurricular activities, and their sports. To participate in making these adult choices, they should understand the benefits and costs of every decision and recognize the opportunities these choices provide. They must also understand the risks of their choices. They must grasp why we are, at times, trying to redirect them. Usually, our guidance is about keeping options open, but as parents, we do not always know what path will serve our children best, so we must be good listeners, too.

The time is nigh to set long-term goals, to make meaningful choices, and to discuss what may be gained from our traditional high school curriculum. (1) Math may not be easy, but its mastery can yield confidence and problem-solving strategies; (2) history is not about simply looking up and reading the history but about understanding patterns and diversified perspectives; and (3) studying science is at the heart of all curiosities and can prompt exciting innovations. By learning (4) foreign languages, we humbly acknowledge that communicating and cooperating with others requires concessions and mutual respect. Finally, by embracing the written word of (5) English, through literature and through our own writing, we recognize how writing, no matter the language, connects us all and how its study is still relevant to every career path. By seeking to understand coursework on this deeper level, our children may truly grow and reengage.

Going Off-Piste

Even though I am a third child, my behavioral characteristics have always been decidedly first-born: I am a conscientious, structured, cautious achiever. As a child, I was occasionally rebellious, particularly as a teenager, and I would battle my sisters for space in the backseat of the car on road trips. Otherwise, though, I was an obedient rule follower and relatively easy to raise, or so said my mom. (But, who really knows?) In school, I completed my homework thoroughly and timely, and I never questioned assignments.

Imagine my disbelief, therefore, when I discovered that our own child challenged rules, relished risks, daringly climbed to the top of the refrigerator as a toddler, declared a desire to learn how to do backflips at the age of five, questioned learning within the realm of categorical subjects in elementary school (e.g., history, English, math, science, et al.), and thereafter questioned school altogether – and yes, who skied off-piste, both literally and figuratively, when I turned my back. I certainly was aware that such children existed, but I could not fathom how my husband and I had produced such a child with our gene pool. Had he been switched at birth? One glance at him, though, confirmed that he was, indeed, ours. While our son took risks that I never dared to take, I can thankfully now reflect that he almost always did so safely, ensuring the reasonableness of those risks first – or, at least he completed such “preflight” checklists by the time he entered high school [Gulp].

In time, I learned to appreciate his hard questioning and irreverence, and I found his curiosities about our educational system both thought-provoking and astute. I have always been beyond proud of my other son, who, like me, mostly “colored within the lines” and racked up very significant achievements, but I now have to admit, after some seasoning and experience, that my risk-taking child’s behavior is instructive, particularly in today’s world.

Today’s parents generally demand that their children do the expected: earn good grades, take the prescribed coursework, earn membership in the National Honor Society, participate in at least one season of in-school sports, volunteer, and complete a summer internship or get a job. Many parents do everything they can to ensure that their children follow this exact path. It’s no wonder then that, in some ways, our children resemble a new suburban neighborhood comprised of cookie-cutter houses. Doing what is expected can certainly lead to educational success, but doing the unexpected, at the right times and in accordance with sound judgment, can lead to fundamental change and distinction and, metaphorically, to a neighborhood suddenly filled with architectural interest.

There are safe ways for our children to go off-piste and to make choices driven by their hearts rather than societal or parental expectations. They can substitute one course of interest for that final AP class, they can choose to exhaustively pursue an unanticipated hobby because it calls to them, or they can use their own voices within school to evoke curricular change. They can passionately pursue political movements or dive deeply into an artistic endeavor. Going off-piste can be heady because of the break in rhythm, the freedom, and the opportunity to explore the rugged terrain it affords.

As our high school children look ahead to another academic year, let’s listen carefully to their observations and concerns, hear their requests to break free of molds and to pave their own paths, and encourage safe exploration. In the process, our children will regain control, develop  independence, and extinguish anxieties. The world will never change for the better if we stand fearfully in place, doing the expected. Instead, unexpected paths and unanticipated choices might just lead to significant and welcome change.

Ensuring a Productive Summer

When I was young, I would spend my high school summers outside. I travelled everywhere by bicycle. Depending on the summer, I also swam on the local swim team, played tennis with friends, lifeguarded, taught swimming lessons, and/or babysat. In the evenings, I would enjoy a softball or basketball game with neighbors or catch fireflies at twilight. Otherwise, I would lie in the grass and whistle through a selected blade. I watched my dad carefully tend to his orchids in his greenhouse. I would sit by the lake in our backyard with an occasional line in the water. My only schedule was guided by swim practice, swim meets, or work obligations. I slept extraordinarily well and was very fit because I was constantly on the move.

By today’s standards, my teenaged summers do not seem “productive” enough. I was not a recruitable swimmer; swimming was just my summer sport. I didn’t have a constructive agenda: I was not intentionally accruing meaningful entries for my résumé. By the summer’s end, what did I have to show for my relatively unstructured exploration of sun, environment, and play?

More than you might think. I learned a lot about myself during those summers of play.  I am guided today by the healthy lifestyle I gained. I know that I love a beach read and enjoy an intermittent slower pace. I know how much I enjoy working with children. I nostalgically appreciate beach music and what we now call Yacht Rock because this music reminds me of the smell and feel of summer, and I collected lots of memories and stories through work and play that would have translated well to a college essay, if I had been required to write more than the approximately two college essays I wrote back in the day.

These past two years of COVID, political divisiveness, and school shootings have perhaps made me wistful for such summers. Nonetheless, I believe that our children would benefit from a similar experience if we can recapture it. Our job as parents is not to force our children to pursue academic camps, strongly suggest or require that they spearhead a community service project, or lock them in their rooms so they can develop their own apps. All of these pursuits are worthy if our children initiate and drive the efforts. Instead, summer needs most importantly to be an opportunity for our children to relax, observe, and engage with others. Moreover, a little boredom has its benefits. In times of boredom we become more creative and more resourceful, and we get to know ourselves better. True boredom should be embraced, in my opinion.

Here are my recommendations to recapture summer’s magic in today’s world:

·      Absolutely limit screen time and limit it significantly. After two years of Zooming and increased online work, our students bury their heads in their phones with a ferocity that scares me. TikTok, YouTube, social media, and gaming have all skyrocketed in popularity. Our children, collectively, are woefully socially inept as a result. If we fear that they have lost academic skills during the pandemic (and they have), I am even more concerned about their social skills.

·      Encourage exploration. Our children do not know themselves as they should. Ask most teenagers what they enjoy doing in their spare time, and they struggle to respond meaningfully. I believe that many, if not most, of them are confused and unaware of their own interests. Their time is often so structured, so suggested, that they do not consider what they enjoy. While I am not a college counselor, I believe that what may help them most is listening to their authentic selves and pursuing their own true interests, even if those interests do not hold the current perceived promise of making a lot of money or of wooing an admissions reader. Authenticity in a college application can, in my humble opinion, shine brightly.

·      Kick your children outside. Sunshine has healing properties. If our children spend lots of time outdoors daily, they will soak up some much-needed Vitamin D. Before we know it, they will be sleeping better and sporting improved moods.  

Although I hesitate to make any suggestions, I will relent. If boredom becomes a real problem, or if your children are making poor or dangerous choices, consider the following:

·      Push them into the arts. Enjoying an outdoor concert, watching and discussing a movie with friends, learning to play a musical instrument, pursuing drawing or pottery – all of these endeavors will awaken a, perhaps, dormant enthusiasm in your children, especially if they have moved away from all artistic pursuits. The summer is also the perfect time to learn a new skill, such as sewing, cooking, or flower arranging.

·      Lure them to journal. Our children’s writing skills have atrophied during the pandemic. Asking children to journal daily or most days about their thoughts and any unusual activities will help reinforce gratitude, preserve summer memories, and result in more fluid writing skills.

·      Take them to the library. Our children should be encouraged to pick up any title of interest, but if they ask for a title, be sure to recommend a read that earns almost five stars with lots of reviews on Amazon or Goodreads, or call me! Tried and true titles that match our children’s interests will serve them best, and I’m a big fan of an audible book, especially for reluctant readers.

·      Join them for a hike, walk, or run.

·      Volunteer with them.

In short, this summer is not the summer, in my opinion, to tax our children with an aggravating to-do list. A little boredom and a little less intervention may be the ironic antidote to our children’s increased anxiety. Their discoveries about themselves may actually benefit our children more than we anticipate.

Fall Enrollment 2022

My priority at Arbor Road Academy is the academic and emotional development of our high school children. I have found that success is best achieved when I partner with parents to hold children accountable and to help them optimize learning and growth. I hope I can help your family achieve these goals.

In fall 2022, I hope to help your children regain their footing and transition into the next academic year with confidence and skills. The ACT and SAT testing landscape will likely continue in full force, and I believe that securing solid test scores will better position your children for their college applications, even at test-optional institutions.

I am grateful for your interest in Arbor Road Academy. Please click on the link below to download the form. Please remit forms by email for expediency.

Fall 2022 Enrollment Form

The Safety Net

I fell on my face this week. Literally. I was walking my pandemic puppy on my persistently under-construction street, and my ankle rolled over the 1.5-inch lip that the workmen left behind as my street awaits its final top coat of asphalt. That lip has been there for six months, though. I should have known better. I should have been more careful.

 A few hours later, I found myself in a temporary state of situational depression. Stitched up, I lay listlessly under multiple bags of ice, and I hate feeling cold! I was embarrassed, angry, and despondent. How could I have barely survived the pandemic (truly, I feel that way at times) only to find myself in this battered condition soon after newfound freedoms have been unleashed in my world? On the upside, never have I been more grateful for the mask as an accessory. 

Falling and failure are tied closely to embarrassment and depression, so much so that we can all likely cite a quote about the values of failure, quotes that are waiting just to make us feel better, to feel positive about our missteps and mistakes.

 To learn from failures, though, we must first experience falling. Without the fall, the lessons are lost. Because parents, teachers, and schools have created an expansive safety net, our children rarely fail. Indeed, I feel like students must actually try to fail in today’s classrooms, usually by actively avoiding work. I have never before seen so many students with abysmal averages right up until the last week of each quarter who miraculously manage to pass at the semester’s end.

 I categorize failures as occurring over a spectrum with two poles: on one end, failure that comes despite our best efforts, and, on the other, failure that comes when even our community safety net cannot protect those of us who never try. In the middle lie unexpected failures – failures that occur due to carelessness. For example, I certainly was not trying to fall this week, but I was distracted, listening to my latest Audible book. Even though I know the dangers of falling – my mom spent the last decade of her life actively trying not to fall – I allowed myself a moment of inattention.

 When our children fail after trying hard to achieve something that they really desire, the lessons are worthy. When they fail to eke out a truly hard-fought A in AP Calculus BC, when they barely miss a PR in the 400-meter sprint after months of training, when they stumble while giving a school-wide speech, they discover the lapses in their preparation. They gain a certain doggedness. They vow to overcome.

 When, on the other hand, our children fail without effort, despite the safety net, children learn relatively little. Instead, the community around them learns. The children were not even trying; we did everything we could to “save” them, but our efforts were for naught. The lesson instead lies within us. What did we do wrong? Should we have let them fail sooner, perhaps, when failure had fewer repercussions?

 Most failures, though, occur somewhere in the middle, and there, we must intentionally seek out the inherent lessons. We should examine and reflect on exactly what we did wrong and how we can avoid feeling battered and bruised in the future. That’s what I am doing now, and I encourage parents to do the same with their children. Do not bury or avoid the pain that accompanies failures, even the minor failures. Embrace and leverage it for all that it is worth to become more surefooted, more confident, and more competent. 

 Deep down, we know, though, that living is not worth living if we don’t fly without a safety net at times. Despite the falls.

Redefining "Smart"

As a result of Top Chef, book blogs, and art reviews, I am expanding my use of adjectives. I have learned that when I describe my entrée as “amazing” or “delicious,” I am not developing any awareness of the types of foods and tastes I enjoy. Similarly, describing a book as “awesome” does not help me find my next great read. As parents, we need to expand our use of vocabulary when we describe our children, too. If we want to groom our children into productive, successful adults, we need to understand them better, including their strengths, their weaknesses, and their eccentricities.

Inevitably, almost every parent who seeks my services initiates the conversation by describing his or her child as “smart” or “bright,” although he or she usually uses a very in front of that adjective. This introduction tells me absolutely nothing about the child. These adjectives have become meaningless.

“Smart” can mean many things to parents. That one word can describe (1) a student who earns straight As by doing absolutely nothing in school, (2) a child who spends every waking hour optimizing her grades, or (3) a child who is a genius or a prodigy in a particular area. 

Let’s look at our children through a new lens:

• Do our children exhibit an unbelievable intuitive understanding of the physical world, so much so that we ourselves are astounded by their insights? Moreover, do they exhibit their aptitude for such concepts at a very young age?

• Do our children have heightened sensitivities that make them able to grasp and express the subtext of art easily and to connect deeply with others, to a mind-blowing degree?

• Do our children have an unending work ethic, such that they are willing to work tirelessly to master a skill and simultaneously to ensure the highest class average?

• Are our children prodigies, combining their innate gifts with an astonishing drive that will make them top-tier (and I do mean “top-tier”) athletes or artists?

Such children exist. I have worked with them; however, while every child has gifts, most children are not described by the statements above because these children are highly unusual. 

More commonly, our children

• Earn good grades, maybe even excellent grades, with minimal effort or interest but are described as a “poor test takers” (another descriptor that is usually misunderstood); 

• Earn very high test scores through little study but earn disappointing grades; or

• Are generalists, who appear to do everything well but who are not “truly outstanding.” They do not gain notoriety beyond their school in any particular area.

All of these children may benefit from better focus, study skills, or motivation, or they may need help identifying and honing their own unique interests. They are wonderful, lovable, special human beings with their own set of gifts. They are “you” and “me,” most likely: Worthy, ultimate contributors to society, but on many levels, relatively average in the classroom, at a party, and on the sports field. These children must learn to cultivate their talents and understand their motivations, and they may need discipline or guidance to ensure that they are high-functioning human beings in the classroom and in life. 

Because most children need our guidance to become the best version of themselves, we must seek to understand our children better. We must be willing to see their foibles, and we must be willing to increase our children’s awareness of their own quirks: their social awkwardness, lack of empathy, or poor self-restraint, for example. We are so busy showering our children with praise and projecting what we want to see that we fail to articulate precisely for our children and for ourselves where they need to grow.

Let’s challenge ourselves to seek out vocabulary that enhances our understanding of our children. Let’s engage them in conversations that facilitate a better grasp of our children’s true strengths and interests and that unearth the root of any problems, and let’s seek to minimize describing our children as bright and smart. They know such descriptors are meaningless. They are rolling their eyes at us. 

The Friend Zone

Parenting is tough. I have yet to find a foolproof parenting manual. Strong parenting requires precision: striking the right balance of love, attention, and discipline. Leaning too much in any one direction can cause negative repercussions.

When I was young, my parents disciplined with a heavy hand. Expectations were abundantly clear, and threats loomed regarding punishments that would be issued “when Dad gets home.” At the time, such authoritarian parenting was widely accepted as routine. My parents were older when they had me and subscribed to rigidity. “Children were to be seen but not heard.” My parents, no doubt, did the best that they could raising my older sisters and me, but we were three very different children, and each of us responded uniquely to their strict parenting style.

My friends’ parents, back in the day, mostly seemed either neglectful or permissive in comparison to my own.  Some parents indulged their children with excessive purchases and enforced few, if any, expectations. Other parents travelled frequently, leaving their children to host high school parties in their absence.

While these three parenting styles – authoritarian, permissive, and uninvolved parenting – persist today, we have become much more educated about parenting, in general, and understand that authoritative (not to be confused with authoritarian) parenting will likely yield the best results: Parenting with empathy but establishing consistent limits and expectations. 

Despite our enlightened times, from my observations, parents struggle with the “empathy” piece, often overstepping the bounds of parenting and entering “the friend zone,” becoming their child’s confidant, champion, and benefactor. Friends, by nature, go to battle for other friends. They clear obstacles, matchmake, and occasionally obsess. Many parents and their children become codependent, with parents controlling their children’s lives or living vicariously through their children. Our primary goal, as parents, if feasible, should always be to produce healthy, independent, young men and women who will contribute to society. 

To truly develop independence, though, our children must be allowed to fail, yet so many parents seem intent on protecting their children from failures. Over the past decade or so, I have witnessed parents of my students go to battle with teachers over grades, extra credit opportunities, deadlines, and school attendance policies. I have seen parents who fight school penalties for honor code violations. I have also seen parents who do their children’s homework and projects in high school and write their children’s essays. These parents often do not realize that, in doing so, they are harming their children and stripping their children of developing the skills they desperately need to find success. These overprotected children are much more susceptible to increased anxiety, decreased confidence, addiction, and promiscuity.

Because they act out of love, bulldozer or helicopter parents justify their actions, but in the process, they have created a world where grades are increasingly meaningless, participation trophies are touted on résumés, and college admissions can be bought or persuaded. Social media and the pandemic seem to have worsened parental overprotection. Today’s children have missed out on so much because of the pandemic that parents are quick to offer excuses for their children’s fatigue, inability to submit work on time, and poor behavior, and social media intensifies the pressure to seek perfection.

We need to return to a world that embraces each other in love but also holds each other accountable for actions. Our children need to know how to write their own essays and to accept punishment with humility, so they can grow. No parent is a perfect parent, but if we see ourselves in these examples of codependent, overprotective, bulldozing parenting, we must make amends, for our children’s sake. They are more capable than we know.

The Magic Bullet

Parents usually seek my academic coaching services because their bright, busy high schoolers, who carve out time for jobs, friends, clubs, and activities, are not optimizing their academic experience. These parents are frequently miffed and frustrated that their children earn disappointing grades and display one or more common student weakness.[1] As I review their children’s schedules and activities, I often find one integral component missing - the magic bullet - that could mitigate many of their problems: exercise. 

Parents often fail to push their children to exercise. Once parents determine that they do not have star athletes under development, they may allow, even encourage, their children to pursue other paths in lieu of that individual or team sport. Soon thereafter, their children are sleeping in, returning home after school to complete homework, and then resorting to streaming or gaming to fill out their days, with little to no exercise. They may be plenty “involved,” but they are not moving sufficiently. Moreover, for students who are involved in organized sports, many of them do so only for a single season or two. The rest of the year, these students become virtually inert, abandoning the benefits of conditioning until the next pre-season practice, and this abrupt discontinuation of exercise often upends their academic performance. Daily exercise, though, is critical to good health and clear thinking for all teenagers, even for non-athletes. 

The CDC reports that every teenager should get “60 minutes or more moderate-to-vigorous physical activity daily.” I recommend more than the prescribed 60-minutes of exercise, particularly when students display any of these common issues. 

We know the positive outcomes of exercise from personal experience: improved mental health and mood, better sleep, and better self-image. We may not recognize, though, that exercise also improves cognitive functioning, such as attention, organization, and memory. While a daily exercise regimen will not render instantaneous results, it will, almost always, yield positive outcomes relatively quickly. The most common pushback I hear when I suggest exercise to a student is a lack of time or interest, but students who regularly exercise seem to find more time in their days because they have more vigor and focus when attacking tasks, and their interest in exercise always seems to grow with practice and commitment.

Exercise should be a rewarding part of every student’s day. Encourage your children to engage in their choice of exercise. If their choice is a sport that will neither elevate their heart rate nor require excessive movement (e.g., walking, bowling, and golf), pair that choice with a personal workout plan. If children have an “off season,” do not celebrate the opportunity to indulge in a little laziness but instead transition to a new form of exercise. Finally, remember that exercise will make us more productive adults, too. Let’s get moving!

[1] My student population has collectively displayed the following relevant issues: a lack of motivation, anxiety, distraction, depression, isolation, low self-image, disrespectfulness, boredom, disorganization, negativity, lethargy, addiction (to using social media, streaming, gaming, eating, dieting, vaping, drugs, cutting, et al.), and poor sleeping habits.

The Biggest Hurdle Facing Today's High School Students

My husband and I recently watched Harry Potter 20th Anniversary: Return to Hogwarts. Seeing young children excitedly standing in line to purchase the books in the series, some of which are over 700 pages long, reminded me of how much J.K. Rowling did to re-energize the reading appetite in our youth. 

Fast forward twenty years . . . most of our high school students are now not reading anything for their personal enjoyment. They are not reading the news or books. Despite enrollment in AP Literature, AP Language, AP US History, AP Psychology, and AP Whatever, they are not reading their textbook chapters. Instead, they are navigating AP courses by using easy access to worksheet answers from an array of internet sources. They will spend an inordinate amount of time seeking a cheat sheet for assignments, if necessary, because (1) it is easier and (2) if they attempt to do the work independently, they may get a lower grade. They use Sparknotes and Schmoop in lieu of reading chapters for English class, too. They are largely unable to read an article and comprehend its contents. The American Psychological Association’s research reveals that over 80% of high school students today do not read for pleasure, but I believe the percentage of nonreaders is much higher than cited or even than we can imagine. In my opinion, we have a reading crisis, and that crisis is worsening.

In response to students’ failure to embrace reading assignments, teachers, frustrated by the number of students who fail to produce independent work, adjust expectations by minimizing reading assignments, which, in turn, serves to affirm the students’ avoidance. Meanwhile, parents either fail to appreciate the severity of their children’s reading problems, ignore them, or tire of the battle to force them to read. 

We see the signs, though, that our children are not reading. They fail reading quizzes. For example, despite a string of high assessment grades, our children score a 40% on a pop reading quiz or even on an assigned reading quiz and offer up excuses, including the common “everyone failed it” justification, which is largely true. Our children’s lowest scores in standardized testing are often in the reading sections. Our children never come to the dinner table to share something interesting that they have read, and we never see our children with a magazine or novel in their hands. 

Producing a generation of nonreaders has a huge ripple effect. Colleges are now pushing students through their curricula because so many students are poor readers, and if students cannot read, they cannot write. Moreover, our country’s current issues with widespread misinformation only worsen in the presence of nonreaders.

We know that the pandemic has exacerbated this already debilitating problem. Like never before, our children turn to gaming, social media, TikTok, and streaming for entertainment. They lose hours daily to these sources, and their brains, which should be actively searching, solving, imagining, and digesting information and storylines, instead idly respond in near-comatose fashion to screen time.

We as parents must redirect our children to embrace reading by putting a book in their hands or their ears. If they like video games, your children will likely enjoy reading fantasy, dystopian, or sci-fi novels such as the Legend series by Marie Lu, Ready Player One by Ernest Cline, the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas, Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi, or Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. If your children enjoy sports, they could escape with Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown, Beartown by Frederik Backman, Seabiscuit: An American Legend by Laura Hillenbrand, or Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall. If your children enjoy streaming CSI or murder mysteries, I recommend The Secret History by Donna Tartt, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon, or classics, such as Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, John Grisham’s The Firm, or Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. If your children enjoy romance or drama, they might try Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell, I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson, Looking for Alaska by John Green, The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood, or The Princess Bride by William Goldman. If they enjoy the outdoors, consider Hatchet by Gary Paulsen, A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson, or My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George. Finally, if your children enjoy history, seek out The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne, Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein, or Between Shades of Gray by Ruda Sepetys. My personal favorite book of last year was Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir, which is simultaneously funny, heart-warming, and scientifically smart. The choices abound. While we have fewer young adult readers, we have abundant great literature and compelling nonfiction titles available. 

Choose a surefire hit, first and foremost, because we want to sell reading to our children, with a word of warning: research the title with your children to ensure their buy-in and consider beginning with an audiobook for family consumption. Audiobooks are a great gateway drug.

The reading crisis is much more fixable than climate change or political divisiveness. We can reinspire our children to read. Let’s get to it.

Grief and Gratitude

As many may know, I have had a difficult year, losing three family members: my mother, my sister, and my brother-in-law. Navigating an already painful pandemic with these unexpected challenges has been tough. Grief is an exhausting process that hits each of us in different ways. I personally do not subscribe to the five stages of grief model. I believe that the first four stages – denial, anger, bargaining, and depression – are neither sequential nor endured by all, but I would like to believe that acceptance is the final stage of grief and hope to get there myself.

Globally, we are all experiencing and reconciling grief. Our lives have dramatically changed. We have lost or deferred not only family life cycle events, such as graduations, weddings, and funerals, but also lesser yet still important events, like proms, homecoming games, and birthday parties. We have lost jobs and witnessed deaths. We have lost education, too . . . lots of education.

No matter where our children were enrolled in school, a pandemic education paled in comparison to a pre-pandemic education. In-person instruction was curtailed everywhere, even if limited to times when students and/or teachers had COVID exposure. Fear gripped most students and teachers, further complicating the educational process. While I am hopeful that life is slowly resuming some normalcy, we must take time to understand the losses that each of us incurred, including educational losses. We must process our grief.

This week’s Winston-Salem Journal led with a story on Monday, November 1, of educational deficits. The results documented “profound” pandemic learning losses, supported by statistical findings. The sheer size of these losses may have astounded some readers, but not me; indeed, I believe that the percentages failed to fully capture the incurred losses. Expectations and requirements for students were curtailed everywhere. Student access to teachers was limited. Public schools offered pass/fail options and did not even require work after March 2020 during the conclusion of that academic year. Grade inflation was, at times, absurd. While private schools generally offered a significantly better education, even in these schools, based on my personal observations, learning and expectations were compromised. I am not per se assessing fault or blame on the educators; the required adjustments were immediate and unanticipated, but every student sustained learning losses, and most students, in my opinion, should likely be retained for a year. In our fast-paced world where education is a race to the finish, I know that retention will not happen, but I believe that it likely should. We have reason to grieve.

Even grief, though, has positive benefits, and I am particularly reminded of its benefits during the month of November, as Thanksgiving approaches. With grief comes gratitude and responsibility. Grief realigns our priorities, enabling us to cling to our values and to focus on relationships in the here and now. Grief also reminds us that we bear responsibility: responsibility for ourselves, our happiness, and our needs, including, of course, our children’s education. 

I am hopeful that this Thanksgiving we will appreciate in-person instruction, the opportunity to learn from and with others, and the folks that still sit at our dining room table. Life is short and is not so much about accomplishments but more about our personal journeys and those with whom we share them. I hope that we can all work to recognize and reconcile our losses over the last 18-plus months and that we can then find room in our hearts for gratitude and reflection.

Educational Fallout and a Call for Action

My family enjoys board games, or so I thought. On vacations, each evening after dinner, my extended family gathers around the table and plays a game or two: Outburst, Scattergories, Backgammon, Texas Hold ‘Em, Scrabble, Five Crowns, Codenames, among a myriad of other favorites. The competition is fierce. The attitudes are not always appropriate, and I may catch a few relatives cheating on occasion. The game playing extends well into the evening until someone, usually the relative who is well “ahead,” expresses fatigue, and the group disbands for bed. I always enjoy the time together, even though I have to admit that some of the game playing is intense.
 
One evening, I asked my husband of over a decade and after many a game-playing vacation night, if he’d like to play a board game at home, and he famously replied, “I’d rather sit here and do nothing.” He was not joking, and his preference had nothing to do with how often he wins. Depending on the game, he can crush me every time.
 
Perhaps you have seen this pattern in your family as well: Some family members are game players; others are decidedly not. I will not purport to understand the basis for this phenomenon; however, what I do find interesting is the non-game board players are always male in my family, especially in a group setting. Obviously, we cannot extrapolate my family’s experiences and assume that a similar pattern would occur within the larger population, but the question intrigues me.
 
Earlier this month, I saw every major publication pick up on a Wall Street Journal article about the alarming decline of the male college student population, “A Generation of American Men Give Up on College: ‘I Just Feel Lost.’” Despite having the greater population share according to statistics that break down the gender of our college-aged U.S. populace, men are enrolling in college at an alarmingly lesser rate: approximately 40.5% of American college students are male, while 59.5% of college students are female. Moreover, 71% of college dropouts during the pandemic are men. 
 
At its heart, school has become a board game to be won, and some students do not want any part of it. They, quite literally, would rather sit in a chair “doing nothing.” School today contains a lot of gender biases. Some lean in favor of men - most notably the opportunity to access leadership roles - but the majority of biases lean in favor of women. I see this pattern within my own student population. Boys are asked at a very young age to sit in a circle and stare at a worksheet when doing so is usually counter to the natural tendencies of that gender. Physical education and activity have largely disappeared from the school day. AP curriculum arguably is nothing but a game: how fast and well can our students memorize, understand, and apply the critical elements of the course. Yes, these critical elements have application to the larger world, but gone is the creativity, the curiosity, the spark that so often engages our children. Our teenaged girls are better at “this” game and have proven so by their academic achievements.
 
Our American education system is in definite need of reform, and we cannot wait for the policy makers to enact change. If our children are struggling, as so many are, we must act now to right their education and to reengage our students. Our high school students may be intrigued by aviation, drone technology, or carpentry, all offered at the Career Center, but those options are not on their board games. To win the game, students (and their parents) feel compelled to max out AP courses, regardless of whether they have an interest in the course, so they can “advance to” the proverbial “finish line.” In my experience, more boys than girls feel hamstrung by the “rules” of the game. My female students are usually more compliant; however, a layer of anxiety often lurks just beneath the surface for so many teenaged girls.
 
To further complicate matters, the statistics reverse themselves when we examine careers. Men have a stronger opportunity to access leadership roles, jobs, and higher pay than their female counterparts. I have yet to read an analysis of the entire situation, from education to employment, that can isolate the causalities because too many factors are at play; however, we must trust our own instincts.
 
The solution – let’s start valuing and listening to our children. Every child is unique, and not all of them should be forced to sit at the game table and to play according to someone else’s rules. Respect is critical as well, so students should not become dictatorial brats about their educations, who insist on getting their way; however, educational priorities should include achieving learning growth, pursuing individual curiosities, developing life skills and a strong work ethic, ensuring mental and physical health, and seeking lesson plans that meet the needs of our children without blindly following a canned or textbook curriculum.
 
Teachers, let’s seek to have fun in the classroom and to shake up the curriculum. Parents, lets raise our voices, dump AP curricula, and get back to a high school curriculum that does not straitjacket our children.  For the board-game lover in me, there is time for that approach as well, but let’s not allow it to become stale. Let's listen to and heed our children's needs.  

My husband maxed out his education. He’s the true definition of a lifelong learner, but he also uses the “H” word to describe school. As a student, he understood that, for him to do what he wanted to do, he had to play the game. Not every student can adapt, though. Our schools need to make room for all kinds of learners.

Second Guessing College Admissions and the Magic Formula

After an unprecedented year and a half, we are facing another admissions cycle. The summer,  no longer a respite from stress, is filled with test prep and conversations about positioning for college applications. College counselors are needed now more than ever before. For the first time in years, admissions forecasting is based less on recent history and more on a deeper understanding of the system and of psychology, both of the applicants and of colleges. The college admissions process is in flux. Malcolm Gladwell’s latest podcast calls sharply into question the entire college ranking system. The US News and World Report has been simultaneously challenged to abandon any reliance on SAT and ACT scores in its rankings. Nevertheless, application numbers to highly-ranked institutions soared last year in the wake of the pandemic and left other colleges wanting. 

Families on the brink of the admissions process understandably have many questions with few reliable answers. Will the ACT and the SAT continue to matter? Probably. Will college rankings continue to sway students? Yes. Will National Honor Society membership matter? Probably not. Should I fence, play squash, or row crew? Do you want to?

Although I am not a college counselor, I often rely on college admissions experts and counselors for trends, and through the years, one magic formula remains tried and true: authenticity. 

In my experience, parents far too often abandon who their child is in favor of what they or the system wants them to be. No wonder our children are facing an anxiety crisis and have self-doubts about who they are: We have placed demands upon them constantly about who they should be, and our demands are often miscalculated. Parents’ attempts to pave a guaranteed path for their children are futile. 

The irony of parenting is that our expectations about who children should be rarely synchronize with who they truly are. I have written before about my perplexity that many students do not even know what they enjoy doing. They simply cannot answer that question, because the answer to that question has so very often been supplied for them.

It’s time that we allow our children, within reason, to determine their own interests and fate. One of my favorite movies, I admit (to the chagrin of many), is The Sound of Music, and the lesson Captain Von Trapp learns is not to treat his children like soldiers but, rather, to get to know them and their feelings – to listen to them. We are raising future leaders, and we need them to develop their own voices.

An experienced college essay reader can always detect when students do not authentically feel their essay topics or when their school records seem aimless or disingenuous. This year, let’s vow to be better listeners and supporters and less heavy-handed in issuing GPS instructions for our children, especially when the proverbial rainbow’s end is a moving target. 

Summer and Fall Enrollment Forms for 2021

After an unpredictable school year, I am looking forward to the year ahead. I hope to help your children regain their footing and transition into the next academic year with confidence and skills. The testing landscape, which this past year was fraught with misfires, will likely resume in full force, and I believe that securing solid test scores will better position your children for their college applications, even at test-optional institutions. 

My priority at Arbor Road Academy is the academic and emotional development of children. I have found that success is best achieved when I partner with parents to hold children accountable and to help them optimize learning and growth. I hope I can help your family achieve these goals.

I am grateful for your interest in Arbor Road Academy. Please click on the links below to download the appropriate form(s). Please remit forms by email for expediency. 

Summer Enrollment Form 2021

Fall Enrollment Form 2021

Summer and Fall Enrollment Forms Will Drop Monday Morning, May 3

A year ago, I anticipated massive changes in education. I forewarned of the need then to focus on daily structure and accountability. How true these words were! But who among us knew that online learning would be such a prolonged endeavor? 

A year later, we know that online schooling failed many of our children. Our schools tried, but teachers were often ill-equipped to reach reluctant learners remotely. In frustration, even our enthusiastic students tired of overused learning platforms, repetitious lessons, screen time, and self-study. 

With in-class instruction finally resuming for many students, hopefully a more normal summer and fall will follow. Many children, though, will have learning gaps because of compromised instruction during the pandemic. The transition in the fall may be more challenging than usual. 

On Monday, May 3, I will release summer and fall enrollment forms here. Historically, enrollment for academic coaching, tutoring, and test prep has filled very quickly. Students of returning families and those who have ridden my waitlist this past year will enjoy a three-day priority window. New students, however, should still act quickly, as slots will otherwise be awarded based on the time and date of the receipt of your enrollment form(s).

I am grateful for your interest and support.

Reclaiming Integrity

 Many universities and institutions pride themselves on integrity, demand allegiance to an honor code, and form a community of trust in which its members must pledge not to lie, cheat, or steal. With community buy-in and mutual respect, the results can be astounding. Everyone together is able to lift each other in collegiality. Instead of focusing on competition, students not only cheer and support one another but also hold each other accountable to core values. Some universities uphold single-sanction honor codes which require expulsion for any proven violation. Most colleges try to vigorously enforce expectations to ensure adherence to the principles of the honor code. Our local high schools also try to instill these core values in their own honor codes; however, violations rarely result in expulsion. 

During the pandemic, with face-to-face accountability minimized, honor codes are under threat. Rampant cheating has seized college campuses and high schools. West Point, a beacon of honor, expelled eight cadets and is holding back another fifty cadets this year following a widespread cheating scandal on a calculus exam. Dartmouth medical students stand accused of cheating on exams administered remotely. GroupMe Chats and the use of Chegg by students to either find or share answers to exam questions have resulted in violations of the honor codes reportedly at over a hundred colleges. Our high school students are not immune; they too have been lured to compromise their integrity, and many have done so. 

Juxtapose these temptations with the fact that parents during the pandemic have felt forced to overlook reprehensible behaviors. At wits’ end, parents watch their children miss deadlines, become gaming addicts, overeat, abuse bedtimes, and stream videos at all hours. We all share immense empathy for our children’s losses, with sports, social events, in-person learning, camps, and proms canceled for over the past year. Even vacations have been largely compromised. We, as parents, have often abandoned our stations, forgiven our children’s trespasses, and written off the year.

No matter how tired and worn down we may be, however, we must recognize the importance of treating integrity as sacred. We must guard our children’s integrity.

 C. S. Lewis wisely said, “Integrity is doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.” Getting ahead today by cheating on an online test will not help our children find success on the AP exam, nor will it serve them well as they move onto the next level in school. Students who cheat their way to the “college of their dreams” will only find themselves out of their depths, drowning in a sea of competition. The Varsity Blues College Admissions scandal left us aghast because of the flagrant lying involved:  photo-shopping faces on athletes, generating false accommodations to access extended time on standardized tests, hiring proctors to correct standardized test answers, and paying money to buy a spot away from another, more deserving student. If we truly believe that we would not stoop to such a level, we must uphold the importance of integrity.

We must encourage our children to act honorably by highly penalizing any acts of lying, cheating, or stealing, by modeling integrity, by confessing any of our own missteps,  by expressing genuine remorse, by accepting responsibility, and by refusing to blame others, for our own transgressions and especially for our children’s. Most of all, we must not be complicit in the process. This absolutely is not the time to say, “Well, everyone else is doing it . . .” 

If we have lost trust in the government, trust in the media, trust in the postal system, trust in college admissions, trust in virtually everything we hold dear, we are truly lost ourselves. We must act together to reclaim the importance of trust. We must value integrity. The rebuilding process must start at home and in our own community. 

Cheating now will lead to even bigger problems later in our children’s lives. Our children are much better served to get these lessons today. We all have heard about students or young adults who get booted from college for an honor code violation or fired from a job, ousted from a career, or even jailed for embezzlement. Hold the line on integrity! Lying, cheating, and stealing never yields true fulfillment.

College Admission Myths

I recently read Jeffrey Selingo’s newest book on college admissions, published late last year: Who Gets in and Why: A Year Inside College Admissions. Hands down, his book is the best examination of college admissions that I have ever read. I highly recommend it to parents who are trying to understand the complicated admissions process.

As an academic coach, not a college counselor, I have watched families struggle with the college application process. I have worked to dispel myths and misunderstandings about the system that I have observed over the past fifteen years. Selingo’s book reiterates that the guidance I have long offered my families holds true today. While this blog, inspired by Selingo’s book, may be too late to benefit my seniors, I hope that parents of underclassmen will find it useful.

The Myths:

1. If my child works hard, achieves all A’s, and is at the very top of his or her class, he or she can earn admission to any college in the country.

2. My child is an all-around superstar and will, therefore, apply for and earn lots of merit aid.

3. My teenaged sports phenom will be able to get into college on a full-ride athletic scholarship.

4. My child and I can talk about the cost of his or her education after admissions decisions are rendered.

5. College decisions are personal.

• While getting into college is not difficult, getting into the most competitive colleges in our country is very difficult – more difficult than most parents recognize until well into high school and often after hopes and dreams have formed.

Generally, we have ample available seats at college institutions in our country. Students who do not get into any college at all have most likely applied only to schools that are reaches or poor fits for them based on their grades and course rigor.

We are conditioned by society, though, to want our children to matriculate to one of the most competitive academic institutions in the country. We reason that, surely, if our children can study at an Ivy League school, UVA, UNC, Duke, or a comparable high-ranking college, then they will rub shoulders with movers and shakers and boost their résumés significantly, so much so that any concerns about their financial futures will be alleviated. However, the number of valedictorians and other senior superstars each year in our country and internationally is great, and most of them are vying for spots at the same top-ranking schools.

Importantly, our students will not necessarily thrive at these competitive institutions, so we must keep an open mind about the process. Not every student will be happy and successful at these highly selective schools: the pressure, particularly if the college does not fit the student, could be overwhelming, and the student may not feel comfortable socially. Often, the proverbial big fish in a small pond offers a better opportunity for many strong students.

As a country, we need to adjust our attitudes about college education. At its heart, college is about academics and building a future, not about car decals, sports, or fraternities. What students accomplish in college is far more important than where they go.

• Merit scholarships are elusive.

Through applications and a lot of hard work, a student who has performed well in high school may access some merit money, usually modest amounts of merit money in comparison to tuition costs. Most colleges offer some merit money; however, the more selective the college is, the less merit money is available. As an example, some state universities offer merit money to lure non-needy out-of-state students, often based on test scores. The very top universities, however, do not need to dangle such enticements. Ivy League universities and other very selective colleges offer no merit money.

If a family friend or acquaintance reports that his or her child is on “merit scholarship” at a top-tier traditional college, the student’s scholarship, more often than not, is financial aid, based on ability to pay. Yes, the child is likely a strong student who earned admission to the school, but usually he or she did not earn merit money on top of admission. Rather, the school awarded financial aid based on the student’s FAFSA (Free Application for Federal Student Aid).

• Perceptions about sports scholarships are inflated.

Do not assume that money will flow to our children because they are star athletes. Ivy League schools and Division III colleges offer no sports scholarships. Division I colleges rarely offer full rides to athletes. Instead, they often spread out a handful of full scholarships among a much larger team of athletes, which means that each athlete earns a mere fraction of full tuition.

Parents of young children who show great promise on the basketball court, on the soccer field, or in the gym should continue that sport only because their children truly love it, not because the sport will pay their way through college.

• College is more expensive than most, even informed, parents think, and they can save themselves a lot of angst by having clear conversations about finances with their children before applications are filed.

The crunch time between the time when admissions decisions are received and when students must commit to their college of choice is short. Financial aid offers can be complicated and difficult to understand. Our children have the capacity to comprehend financial choices and limitations, but in my experience, children are much more understanding if they anticipate the possibility that financial limitations may preclude them from matriculating to their dream school when they learn about those limitations well before earning admission.

• Try not to take rejection letters personally.

The colleges assessing our children have only read our children’s applications, essays, recommendations, and test scores. They reject our students because, on paper, they are not a good fit for the evolving class at that particular institution. Admissions committees admit classes, not students. They are trying to build a diverse class that comes from a variety of backgrounds with a variety of strengths. In other words, they do not need a class full of students who are only interested in computer engineering. Our students’ interests and pursuits can either help them or cost them in college admissions, depending on the schools’ needs. Understanding admissions from this perspective can help our children retain self-confidence and navigate the college admissions process more successfully and optimistically.

A good college counselor and a copy of Selingo’s book can make the college process more transparent. Please let me know if you need a referral.

Harnessing Healthy Pride

            When I was young, we were taught penmanship in school. My grandfather carefully edged his manicured lawn with precision. My grandmother whipped her meringue cookies by hand and dropped them on the cookie sheet in measured form. Healthy pride was instilled in every task. We found art in folding clothes, wrapping packages, maintaining vehicles, and arranging flowers. Art was everywhere, and appropriate pride was exalted. 

            The word pride is not often used in academic circles anymore. It has become a complex term that carries contradictory meanings, a contranym. Pride evokes positivity because, by definition, pride is deep satisfaction in the completion of work. The word pride has been adopted by the LBGTQ community as a positive symbol and a reminder to lead open, genuine lives. Pride simultaneously, though, carries  negative connotations. Egocentric literary characters, such as Odysseus, remind us that hubris clouds judgment; pride is, therefore, linked with corruption and selfishness. In Christian teachings, pride is the deadliest of the seven deadly sins. Similarly, in Judaism, pride is a vice; humility a virtue. I contend, however, that healthy pride is essential to the development of a strong work ethic.

During the pandemic, pride has naturally subsided. Instead of focusing on our appearance and our work, we have, at times, become distracted and robotic. I believe that we need to cultivate healthy pride now, particularly in our high school students.

            What strikes me about what I witness today is the dichotomy I see in students: Some students still have a healthy amount of pride in their work; others seem to have no pride whatsoever. This latter category of students whip off a one-line sentence to a homework assignment in mere seconds, presumably for the completion grade, and without a second thought. In the process, the assignment loses all meaning. Perhaps teachers would assign less homework if students engaged in each task more thoughtfully and thoroughly, if students attacked each assignment with pride. Perhaps, on the other hand, this lack of pride is the result of too much homework, an age-old chicken-and-egg debate. Either way, I believe we will find greater success with a combination of less homework, higher expectations, and quality work.

            As parents and teachers, I believe one of the many obligations we owe our children should be to cultivate healthy pride, an emphasis on excellence. Here are a few ways to nurture healthy pride:

• Model pride in daily tasks.

• Encourage children to be artists and to pursue the arts.

• Show appreciation for art.

• Observe your children’s work product. Ask to read their essays.

• Set expectations, and offer constructive praise and criticism.

• Require fewer assignments but expect much more from each task, whether homework, as teachers, or chores, as parents.

• Do not award completion grades, participation trophies, or payment for children’s responsibilities.

Often pride and work ethic go hand-in-hand. Taking time to produce quality work is a key component of a strong work ethic. Healthy pride leads to a strong sense of self-worth and purpose. Care and thoughtful attention to each task are the goal, and right now, our school culture could use a big dose of healthy pride.

Big News from the CollegeBoard: No More Essays and No More Subject Tests!

On Wednesday, the CollegeBoard announced the discontinuation of the optional essay portion of the SAT in June and the immediate cancellation of all subject tests, the one-hour exams students often take to gain admission to highly selective schools. Because the testing landscape has changed rapidly over the last year, both due to COVID and to criticism, these most recent changes are not a big surprise; however, they are evidence of a testing industry in jeopardy, trying to cling to its market share.

While the current trend in greater flexibility in testing policies is popular, testing will continue to be used to validate academic records. An A at one school is not equivalent to an A at another school, and test scores are the favored way to differentiate students with similar records. Just because the CollegeBoard is initiating these sweeping changes, we should not interpret these moves as indicators that testing is dying out. We also should not be disillusioned by schools that claim to be test optional. Often, test optional status is a ploy to entice applicants to apply, thereby lowering admission rates, a touted statistic.

For the past few years, I have advised my students not to take the essay portion of the SAT or the ACT unless their college interests include a school that requires the essay, of which there are relatively few. My advice was previously based on subjectivity in scoring and the limited scales the scorers use. Students sometimes take the essay portion only to earn a score that taints an otherwise strong score report. Moreover, an AP Language score is likely stronger evidence of writing ability than one 40- or 50-minute timed essay. The removal of the essay portion of the test will limit testing time to three hours for students without accommodations. I am a fan of this CollegeBoard change.

Frankly, though, the more significant CollegeBoard change, even if it affects fewer students, is the elimination of subject tests. Subject tests have long been used to enhance a student’s portfolio by showcasing proficiencies in particular areas. Today’s parents, if they took these tests, may have known them as Achievement Tests or, later, SAT II Subject Tests. Removing these requirements and relying instead often on AP scores, a testing platform also notably controlled by the CollegeBoard, will be a welcome time and money saver for many students. 

I applaud both of these changes, although I recognize them as moves made by the CollegeBoard to leverage position within the testing industry and to streamline its testing. The ACT will hopefully follow suit in short order and discontinue its essay as well.

Bottom line, though, don’t cancel your testing dates. Testing still matters!