For most of us, childhood routines were something like this: get up, go to school, eat a biscuit at break, play with friends, daydream through the afternoon, befriend a stray dog on the way home and persuade parents to let us stay up past bedtime. But a new generation of toddlers make the innocent childhoods of the past look like a waste of time. These Scottish supertots are brushing up their language skills, taking in a gallery or two and practising their logarithms.
On a recent trip to China, Jack McConnell spoke about the links between Scotland and his host country, adding that he would like to see more Scots learning about China, its languages and culture. But even he couldn’t guess just how young some of those Sinophiles would turn out to be.
Melinda Roberts has been taking her four-year-old son Josh to Cantonese classes at Edinburgh Chinese school since last October. “My husband is in banking and he travels to China a lot on business. We thought it would be a fun, unusual thing for Josh to learn, as well as being potentially useful for him in the future,” she says.
Josh is part of a generation of tots who are being immersed in the hyper-stimulating world of baby hothousing. Japanese, piano, maths, computing, art appreciation — these children’s diaries resemble those of high-flying executives. The end result is a breed of confident pre-schoolers whose mastery of the three Rs would put many 10-year-olds to shame.
The keenest parents sign their babies up for classes and the best nurseries before they are even born. The trend has been spurred on by celebrity mums such as Liz Hurley and Victoria Beckham and their A-list offspring who are forever being photographed leaving the trendiest toddler hangouts.
Linda McKercher, a nurse, and her husband Rab, a crane driver, turned to English and maths classes two years ago when they realised their son Ryan, now five, was developing at an alarming speed. “Rebecca, his sister, who is two-and-a-half years older, started school and was learning to read. Ryan began copying her and was soon keeping up. By the age of three, Ryan was already reading on his own and I was worried he was going to get bored unless I found something to stimulate him.”
The answer lay at Bells Sports Centre in Perth where McKercher noticed a poster advertising Kumon. The Japanese company arrived in Britain in 1991 and has expanded steadily since. Already a huge hit in 44 countries including America, Australia, Spain and Singapore, Kumon attracts children as young as two to its classes. They were developed by a Japanese high-school teacher in the 1950s and are designed to teach children all they need to know about English and maths, as early as their brains can absorb the information. McKercher pays £45 a month and takes Ryan along to the drop-in sessions twice a week.
Claire Coleman runs Kumon classes in Edinburgh and believes children don’t have to be little geniuses to get something out of them. “The classes are good for preparing children for school, getting them to sit at a desk and hold a pencil. As well as the educational aspect, it strengthens the parent-child bond as the parents of very young children come into class and sit beside them to help.”
Some experts believe that parents living in today’s technological age are unable to stimulate their children at home and are turning to these classes as an often costly alternative to old-fashioned play. Parentline Plus, a support group, offers 12-week courses in parenting skills, much of which focuses on how to play with your children.
Psychologists warn against pushy parents trying to achieve their own failed dreams through their offspring — something all teachers admit to having experienced. “It’s good for children to learn skills such as how to perform in a group and to sit still and quietly, but the problems start when a child feels pressured,” says Anna McGee, a developmental psychologist.
British research into toddler hothousing is still at an early stage. But a recent study of American and Swedish adults who were hothoused 30 years ago found many were emotionally damaged.
Could we be facing an epidemic of children who are burnt out by the time they reach the school gates? Leanne Stewart is a teaching fellow at Moray House in Edinburgh and previously managed a pre-school education centre. The mother of four primary school-aged children warns: “There is a danger that by doing too much too soon you can stifle a child’s learning at a later stage. Personally, the idea of having three-year-olds in formal classes is abhorrent. But if they are being taught through games and having fun, then that’s great.”
Four-year-old Lucy Stephens lives in Glasgow’s west end with her parents Jonathan, a surveyor, and Robina, a solicitor. On Monday Lucy attends a maths class. On Tuesdays it’s piano and ballet. She goes to drama on Thursdays and computer class on Fridays. Every other Wednesday she goes to an international playgroup with her Spanish nanny. One Saturday a month, she goes to an art appreciation club.
A bright, lively girl, there is nothing to single her out as precociously talented. She seems more interested in her Barbie doll than in demonstrating her computer skills. Her mother denies being a pushy parent but concedes she does feel pressurised by what others in her social circle are doing.
“Sometimes I do think, ‘She’s only four, she should be playing with her dolls’. But then if I was to take her out of her classes I’d start worrying that I wasn’t giving her the best start in life,” she says.
But Professor Eric Wilkinson at the University of Glasgow is “extremely cautious” about hothousing, and points to studies that show it can generate stress. “If children have to write a lot, it can put too much pressure on,” he says. “They have to be free to express themselves and engage in play.”
Ryan McKercher is not showing signs of stress from his maths class. He loves skating, gymnastics and swimming but when he is bored only one thing will do: more sums. So much so that he has persuaded his Kumon teacher to give him double homework.
“In every other way he is a lovely normal wee boy but he just loves maths,” says his mother. Linda McKercher. When Ryan first started going to classes he was shy but his mother believes they have given him the confidence to socialise with other children. “His dad and I have never pushed it on him and he certainly doesn’t get it from us. Everything he does he is brilliant at, except perhaps football.” Even Einstein had his weak points.
Some names have been changed
