Fast lanes and life lessons

This year Great America theme park introduced a new service.  For only $30 a day, you can get a "fast lane" wrist band that allows you to bypass the lines for any attraction.  $30 a day!  It's half the cost of their season pass.  It's a rip-off, and everybody knows it.

I know some people don't mind rip-offs to get better experience out of their day.  I know some people do mind.  And I also know that some people simply cannot afford it.

We all know and love the rip-offs that come with theme parks - skyrocketing ticket prices, overpriced junk food, and extremely poor quality, but equally extremely expensive merchandise.  We know that going in, and don't mind them so much because theme parks make our children happy.  But fast lane is different.  It makes some children happy at the expense of other children.  And that is wrong.

Wealthy people have their privileges.  They eat at better restaurants, they stay at better hotels, they get better quality clothes.  They travel more.  They live in bigger, more luxurious houses.  And on, and on, and on.  And that is fine with me.  Most of them worked hard for their money, they earned it, and they get to spend it the way they like.  But most of the time, they don't get their privileges at the expense of people who make less.  A 6-year-old usually doesn't know that a classmate next to him wears a T-shirt that costs $40, while his costs $10.  They get the same attention from teachers, and they study the same material.  None gets preferential treatment.  Fast lane, again, is completely opposite.  As long as you can (and willing to) pay (a lot) extra, the park will provide better service for you at the expense of others.

Imagine a family that is struggling to make ends meet because one of the parents lost his job.  Nevertheless, they decided to spend their daughter's birthday at Great America because she's been asking for it for a few months.  How do they explain to her why she should wait in line for a ride for half an hour while all these kids with wrist bands keep jumping ahead of her?  How do they justify "wait your turn" lessons that she's been taught since she was a toddler?  And by the way, those lucky kids with wristbands don't benefit much from "fast lane" lessons either, teaching them that being able to pay extra somehow makes them better than all those people waiting in line.  Money, afterall, can't, and shouldn't, buy everything.

We all know that theme parks are out for profit.  But they cater to children.  The least they can do is while making their profit, make sure that they don't trample on children's ideals, such as fairness.  Great America should be ashamed of itself for such a sleazy way to make more money.  And you know these "No line jumping" signs they have next to every ride?  Now right next to them they have "Fast lane" arrows pointing to one direction or the other.  I think these should be renamed to "Line jumping this way."

Parenthood - a job that embarrasses your teen (a diary of an old-fashioned mom)

No matter how well you know that teenage age is going to be difficult, you are never really prepared. You don't know what to expect next and how much more difficult it is going to get. And you definitely don't know how to react.

Yesterday we found out that our son is ashamed of us. Not that it was a big surprise, but yesterday we heard it loud and clear. When being dropped off at school by his father, he prefers that his father does not come into the school with him, but yesterday he told us why - he is ashamed. And don't his father dare to ever come into the school and embarrass him in front of his friends (by merely walking into the school to ask the receptionist a question)!

I am trying to start a conversation about this. Why are you ashamed? Is your father a drunk? Does he do drugs? Does he not provide a decent living for his family? Is he illiterate? What is the reason for you to be ashamed of him? I know the answer to the question, but I am wondering if my son knows. I am wondering if he knows what the word "ashamed" means. I am also wondering if that's a typical teenage behavior talking or my son actually grew up to be a disrespectful brat. For a number of months now, I tend to write off signs of disrespectful behavior to being "just a phase", but I am wondering if that's the right approach.

I know he is not only ashamed of his father. He is ashamed of me, too. He is not just ashamed, he is disgusted with me. He is furious at me. I am not a permissive parent. I have very high expectations. And I don't accept "everybody is doing it" as an argument. But I also clean his room. I start my grocery shopping with his favorite foods - berries and chocolate yogurt. I bring books that he requests from the library and put them on his table for him to find when he comes home. I drive him to and from activities and social events. I am there for him for his project presentations and book reports. I don't expect gratitude (does anyone really expect that from kids?) but I expect an acknowledgement and appropriate behavior. I certainly do not get it. What I get is "I don't care how my room looks", "You don't know anything", and "You are the meanest parent in class."

So, I am trying to continue the conversation. "Your father is not your taxi driver and I am not your maid. If you continue to expect favors from us you need to learn to be more respectful and acknowledge our needs. Otherwise, next time you need a ride to a school dance or a playdate, you will need to call a taxi." I don't think I am getting through. I think he actually believes that whatever we do for him we owe him, and he owes us nothing. Not gratitude, not even respect. Again, I don't know if that's a teenage behavior that will go away, or my son grew up into egocentric, rude, selfish person, and it's too late to try and change it.

Right now, I am still willing to trust that it's just a phase. Afterall, I was a difficult teenager myself, and although I was never disrespectful, I felt resentful toward my parents. The difference is I kept it inside and never showed it. And the reason that I didn't show it is I was afraid of the consequences of showing disrespect. We brought up our children in a way that they are not afraid of us. I think it's a good thing. But how much, if any, of disrespectful behavior should be tolerated? And how do you approach it? Punishment is a common answer, but if you think of it, it's easy to understand that you don't earn respect by punishment. The more you punish your teen, the more he will feel like a victim and the more he will think you deserve disrespect. Punishment doesn't earn respect. It breeds more disrespect.

It looks like the task I am facing now is learning how to teach respect. And how to give proper consequences for disrespectful behavior. Writing it off to "just a phase" is not going to do. Or, as my husband rightly put it, I don't know if I will live long enough to see the other end of this phase.

White men can't do math

Yesterday my son competed in first Bay Area Math Championship. I went into the room with him, and actually felt pretty humble - I was in the same room with about 120 brightest young mathematicians in Bay Area. Interestingly enough, all those brightest mathematicians were either Asian or Indian. My son's was the only white face in the room.

I was not exactly surprised. Last summer my son took Science and Engineering class at CTY summer program. This is Johns Hopkins University program for gifted kids. He reported that he was the only non-Asian kid in his class.

He also competes in chess tournaments, and most of the competitors are either Asian or Indian.

Last month, a few boys from our school formed a team and went to another math competition. They were the only white faces there, too.

I am starting to get used to this, and I can't help but feel resentful. Is it really true that white kids cannot do math? Are there no gifted kids among Caucasians, or blacks for that matter? I have a few (white) friends who I consider math geniuses. But those are adults. What happened to the kids?

In his numerous books, Pat Buchanan complains about how the immigrants are taking over white America. For the record, I consider Pat Buchanan a racist and a bigot. He does have some valid points, however. But here is a point that is even more valid - sometimes, white America gives in way too willingly. For example, white American women have children later and later in life, and have fewer and fewer of them, unlike other nationalities for which having children seems to be a priority. That bugs me. Not introducing children to math and science from an early age bugs me as well.

White American moms will drive their children to soccer practices 50 miles away from home. They will push their kicking and screaming toddlers into the water for their swim lesson which the little ones dread. They will put their 2-year-olds on skis and snowboards before the kids can even walk independently. But when it comes to math, they will wait until school takes over, and to be honest, most schools do not do the best job of teaching math.

Surely, not all the kids can be gifted mathematicians. But how will you know that your kid is good at math, if you don't introduce math at an early age? Your kid will never become a good gymnast if you wait until he is 7 to start gymnastics. He could've been great, but you missed the crucial window of development. It's the same with most other sports. If you want your child to be competitive, you have to start early. The thing is, for most kids it's not that important to be competitive in any sport. But math is extremely important, for every child. So why are we waiting? Why are we missing this crucial window of development? Why are we not introducing math at earlier age, in ways that are understandable and fun, and waiting for school that introduces math in ways that makes most children hate it? I hear a lot of complains how the school-age kids hate math, and how math is their least favorite subject. Incidentally, all of those complaining are whites. Asian and Indian kids love math. They do it in their spare time, and they enjoy math competitions. Is it possible that white parents are pre-programming their kids from an early age to be scared of math?

I feel resentful. I do not like to come to a math competition and feel like I am in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't want to feel like there is something wrong with my son because he is the only white person there. This year, there will be 3 of his classmates at CTY. That makes me very happy. I also hope that his school math team will continue practicing and participating in competitions next year. As for the rest of the white (or black) Americans - introduce math early. You may be surprised to find out that your child IS a gifted mathematician.

Changes (diary of an old-fashioned mom)

I remember the times when my child was a toddler. He changed almost before my very eyes. Every day brought a new change. New movements. New words. New behaviors. New skills. New expressions. Over the second year of his life, he changed dramatically.

Now he is 12 years old, and I feel like I am re-living the same period over again. Every day, I have a completely new child. New words. New behaviors. New likes and dislikes. Every day brings something new, and I feel like I don't really know him anymore, and I don't know what he will be like tomorrow.

Most importantly, how did he manage to turn into a person whose character I don't even like? He is not kind. He is not compassionate. He doesn't have any regard for other people's feelings and opinions. He is narcissistic, egocentric, and stubborn. He uses language that I'd rather not hear. He watches cheap action movies instead of fun kid flicks. He listens to trashy pop instead of classical music or classic rock. He reads trendy teenage books instead of meaningful literature.

Where did I go wrong? Was I too strict? Too permissive? Did I have too many rules? Were my expectations too high? G-d knows how many parenting mistakes I have made and still making. I have always known that teenage years are not easy, but I guess you are never really ready. And who knows how much more difficult it is going to get?

I still have a glimmer of hope, however. Just like during the toddler years, when constant physical changes turn a baby that is fully physically dependent on you into an older child who is somewhat capable of taking care of himself, maybe constant emotional changes of a pre-teen will turn him from being a child who was fully emotionally dependent on me into an adolescent who is totally able to understand things and think for himself.

This is a huge step for a young person, a step that's not an easy one and which does not happen overnight. But hopefully, given some freedom, he will figure things out. He will understand other people's feelings. He will understand what language is appropriate to use and when. He will learn how to distinguish "trendy" and "trashy" literature and music from those worth his full attention. But in order for him to learn all that, he must be given freedom to experiment. And I must learn how to live with "experimenting" without loosing my temper and my mind.

About a boy who came in next to last

I stayed in the gym today for the announcement of yesterday's competition results. What mother wouldn't? My younger son took a medal for every event and, for the first time ever, an all-around gold medal. My older son came in next to last. But, after making the announcement, the gym manager called my older son to the floor. He told the whole gym how Alex never competed in level 4, how he joined the team late and had to catch up with the younger level fives, and how he comes to the practice and does his best every time. I am so glad. I am sure it meant a lot to Alex.

We never planned for Alex to compete in gymnastics. We brought him to gymnastics to make him stronger and tougher. But coaches had other plans, and Alex was quickly promoted to the team, somewhat against our wish. We still didn't plan that he would compete, but Alex really wanted to. Seeing his brother compete last year, competition seemed glamorous to him. We've tried to explain to him that he is not up to the level of most of the boys, that he didn't have time to learn all the skills, that he would never catch up with his younger brother, that he would probably never get a medal and feel bad about it. We've tried to explain how tough it is to try to do your best and not get a good result, because other boys are just so much better. But Alex still wanted to compete. And we felt that it wouldn't be fair to just not let him.

Alex thought he could handle the pressure. Maybe he thought that getting good results are not important and just competing would be enough. Or maybe he thought he was really better prepared than he actually was, and he could get good results. But again, he was not. After placing among the last at 2 competitions, Alex is disappointed at gymnastics. He is bitter, sad, and angry. I can see that he realized that he made a mistake by going into the competitions. And I was wondering if I made a mistake by letting him.

That's why I was so glad today to hear the gym manager praise Alex. Of course we praise him after every competition, we stress how important it is that he tries his best no matter what the result is, but he probably knows that we do this because we have to, that his younger brother performs so much better, and that makes him sad. I hope that today will change Alex's attitude toward this year's future competitions. He is determined to quit gymnastics after the season is over, and I think it's the right decision, but I really hated to see him suffer through it instead of having fun. I hope he will remember today. And I feel better about my decision to let him compete. To let him make a mistake and learn from it, and hopefully become tougher and stronger. Mentally, not just physically.

Every time I go to a competition, I am at awe with these young men who come to show the miracles of strength and sportsmanship. Each and every one of them comes to the gym 3 - 4 times a week, for several hours, after school and homework, and pushes himself to the limit, to do his best. Every single one of them should be proud, no matter which score he posts on the board. Every single one of them is a champion.

And for every parent I have this to say. Support your kids. It doesn't matter what their interest is. It may be gymnastics, swimming, chess, or ballet. They may perform at the theater or play a musical instrument. Support them, no matter what their results are. If they want to sing in a choir, and you know they can't carry a tune, still support them. Let them do their best. Let them push their limits. They are putting in their time and effort, and sometimes they have to deal with bitter disappointments. The least you can do is show you care. They are your champions, even if they came in next to last.

You have a teenage boy if

1. His room looks like your city just suffered a massive earthquake.

2. Nobody cares if he goes to a birthday party wearing a dirty shirt and sweatpants.

3. Whatever his friends are listening to / watching / reading / wearing / eating must be immediately listened to / watched / read / worn / eaten by him.

4. He will be scarred for life if he is the last one of his friends to get a cell phone, iPad, e-mail, and facebook.

5. He will be scarred for life if you approach him while he is socializing with his friends.

6. The younger sibling(s) is ruining his life and must be sent to a foster home.

7. Homework is done at the last possible moment, preferably 10 minutes before he leaves for school on a day it's due.

8. He would rather have a spider crawling down his skin than accept a sign of affection from you.

9. If a suggestion, solution, or advice is coming from you, it must be so lame it's embarrassing to even listen.

10. You do not and cannot possibly understand what his generation is going through because obviously you have never been a teen, or most likely you are simply too dumb.

The excommunication of Jules Verne

When I was a child, my father would occasionally suggest books for me to read. The works of Herbert Wells, Alexandre Dumas, Jules Verne, Arthur Conan-Doyle, as well as some books by russian authors, were all suggested by my father. I always took my father's advice and was never disappointed. He knew which books to pick for me, and I enjoyed every one of them.

Drawing from this experience, I often suggest books for my children to read. Only so far, they have been less than receptive to my advice. The works of Astrid Lindgren, "The Little Prince", and "Alice in Wonderland" were outright rejected by my first-born when he was younger, and now by my younger son as well. I don't know how they can not like these books. Only they don't. They don't even give them a chance, and if they agree to listen, it's only for a couple of pages, immediately declaring the book not worth their time.

I gave up for a while, and let my kids choose the books they want to read. But I still don't want them to miss the experience of reading the books I enjoyed as a child. I figured that my older son is now old enough to read Jules Verne, and given his love of science, I think he would enjoy the science fiction, so I suggested that he picked up a book by Jules Verne. That's when I became, again, a completely uncool, controlling, and pretty much the worst mother in the whole world. He doesn't want to read 200-year-old books, I don't understand what kids his age are reading, and he has a complete right to pick the books he wants to read without consulting me.

But does he? I am bigger and wiser, I've read the books I am recommending, I enjoyed them, and I know he would enjoy them too if he just gives them a chance. The only reason why he doesn't want to read Jules Verne is because nobody in his class has even probably heard of this author, and my son wants to read what his peers are reading. Rick Riordan has replaced Jules Verne.

That's not good enough for me. I KNOW what his peers are reading. I also know what they SHOULD BE reading. I am not banning Rick Riordan. There is enough time for both him and Jules Verne. But my son set his mind on not even trying. I think this is wrong. Is it worth the fight? There are not many russians who have not read "20 thousand leagues under the sea", or "War of the worlds", or "Three musketeers", or "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" in their teen years. But there is probably a majority of americans who did not, and they turned out just fine. If I give up the fight, my children will be a part of the majority. But is the fight worth the reward?

When kids grow older, there are so many things to fight about, and they are all serious. There is curfew. There are chores. There is homework. There are clothes they wear. There is language they use. The list is endless. At the end of the day, you feel like the relationship with your pre-teen has become a constant fight. There seems to be absolutely nothing you can agree on. Must books they read be another thing to fight about? How important is it, really, as long as they are reading?

I am torn. I don't want to seem mean and controlling any more than I already am. But I also don't want my children to miss the experience of reading wonderful books just because their peers are not reading them. I am not ready to give up the fight. But because I don't feel that it's right to impose punishment in this case, and my power of persuasion does not seem to be working, I think it's going to be a long fight without winners.

To my father

We are friends with a family that have a son and a little 4-year-old daughter. They are very loving parents, and when I observe the father interacting with his little daughter, it reminds me a lot of me and my father when I was four. My father was my favorite person in the world. He played with me, he took me to the park and pushed the swings, he taught me how to read, he gave me medicine when I was sick. I was a happy child.

Fast-forward to teen years, it all came to an end. My father suddenly became too pushy, too opinionated, too judgemental, too protective, too controlling. He wasn't a favorite anymore - quite opposite, I avoided his company. Being an angry teenager, looking desperately for attention of my peers and not always getting it, I aimed my anger at my parents. My father wasn't understanding. Yes, he wanted the best for me, but he went all wrong about it most of the time.

I never completely repaired my relationship with my father. Being as opinionated, as judgemental, and as controlling as him, it is hard for two of us to be friends. We fight a lot, and I blame him for a lot of things. I blame him for not understanding me and disregarding my opinion, now as well as back when I was a teenager.

I think about this as my 11-year-old, from being an affectionate and loving child, is becoming more distant and rebellious over the past few weeks. He refuses any signs of affection, he doesn't tell me anything about himself, he refuses to come near me when he is in school. And that reminds me of the way I was when I became a teen. And I wonder: is it just a stage that he will outgrow, or is it because I am too pushy, too judgemental, too opinionated and too protective, and our relationship is beyond repair? What will my son remember when he grows up: me reading books with him in bed and walking around the neighborhood counting pumpkins when he was two, or my nagging about cleaning his room, not letting him watch TV to his heart content, monitoring his computer use...

I am repeating my father's mistakes. Inheriting many traits of his character, I can't help it. I am not the world's most understanding mother, and I am not the world's most grateful daughter. But as I am getting older, and seeing people from older generations leave this world, I consider myself lucky. Every day when I wake up, before starting to complain to G-d about all those things I don't have (and believe me, I complain to G-d a lot) I thank him for having my father. For keeping him relatively healthy and relatively close. I know many people who are not that lucky, but I am, and I thank G-d for that. I owe my father a lot for being the person I have become. And even as he did a few things wrong, he also did a lot of things right. And most importantly, he loved me, and that's the best gift. He gave me love that I can now pass to my kids. He made me the parent I am. Too pushy, too judgemental, too opinionated, too protective, but extremely loving. I hope my kids one day will see that love right through all that other stuff. Just as I see my father.

The blessing of "Yes"

When my children were babies, I often heard how important it is for them to understand the word "no" as early as possible. In fact, many parents think that "no" is the most important concept for babies to understand. "No", - they yell as their 8-month-old reaches out for an expensive wine glass, a neighbor's dog, or a mommy's book. Some babies are even unlucky enough to get their fingers hit by a parent for whom the concept of "no" is paramount. What would the neighbors think if their child does not learn the word "no" at 6 months and will grow into a disobedient toddler?

I never thought that my babies should learn the meaning of "no" until they are ready. I created a safe word around them where they had time and space to explore safely. Expensive china, parents' books, breakable things and dangerous "chocking hazard" toys were stored far away, and the floor was covered with interesting and safe things to marvel at - bouncy balls, rubber books, wooden blocks, plastic containers of different sizes. When they became toddlers, I enjoyed filling my children's spaces with things that I can safely say "go ahead" to - water-color paints, chalk, old clothes, salt and sugar to be mixed with water for chemical experiments, pebble stones. I reserved my "no" for dangerous situations and used it sparingly. I was not a dog trainer - I was a parent, and it was my responsibility to make my children's space safe, not theirs to learn what they cannot touch. That would come in due time. Boy, was I a happy and proud parent back in those days.

Fast-forward to now. What happened to my sweet and (mostly) obedient toddlers? Fighting, swearing, name-calling and whining often dominate our lives, and so do consequences for bad behavior. "No ice-cream!" "No TV!" "No playdate!" I often feel like an animal trainer instead of a parent. And every time I say "no" I feel bad. And sad. And punished, even more than my children are. "Can I have a Facebook account?" "Can I have a cell-phone?" "Can I watch this totally inappropriate movie?" No, no, no. The world of pre-teens, and most probably (this is still to come) teens is full of "no". And it's not surprising. They are pushing the limits, you are trying to keep them safe. It's just like when they were toddlers. Only back then I knew how to keep their world safe without constantly saying "no". Now I don't know anymore. It's so sad.

This is why, every time I can say "Yes" to my children's request, my heart fills with joy. When they are not fighting, I can't refuse them anything. No punishments to enforce. Yes, we can stop for ice cream. It's ok to have a playdate. You can have a half hour of extra TV time. Yes, you can go to bed 15 minutes later. No, you still cannot have a Facebook account. But all those small things that I can say "yes" to make my day.

I am often afraid that when my kids grow up all they will remember is all these "no" that they are subjected to every minute of the day. I really want things to change. Yes, I still need to enforce consequences for bad behavior. But meanwhile, an unexpected trip to a theme park, an interesting book from a library waiting at his desk, a surprise toy or a game from a toy store or a few extra dollars they can spend as they see fit make family life so much more like... family, not a dog obedience school. And I can't wait until I can say "Yes" to a Facebook account. I don't know which one of us will be happier - he for finally getting it or me for saying another "Yes, you may".

The power to listen

We have a new family member. His name is Yaari. Well, he is not actually our family member - he is a new kid in my older son's class. But as much as I keep hearing about him in recent days, he might as well move in with us.

- Yaari had a D on his test again today.

- I don't care about the grades of other kids. I only care about yours. And so should you.

- But he is the worst student in class. He never answers any questions. He only draws. And he is not even good at that.

- I don't care. You should not pay attention to what other kids do in class.

- But they always put me with him, and he always asks me questions.

- If he is distracting, you should talk to the teacher.

- He never does anything when our team does a project, and then takes credit for it.

- You should resolve it with the teacher. If you can't, I can talk to the teacher for you.

- No! I don't want to be a cry-baby.

- Ok, then I won't hear more about Yaari.

Next day, the Yaari conversation begins again. Finally, yesterday I've had enough. "If I hear one more word about Yaari, I am writing a note to the teacher and solving this problem," - I snap. "No! I won't talk about him anymore, I promise," - my son replies.

That was a mistake. I only realized it today. I shut off my son's ability to vent about a problem that is obviously bothering him.

How many times do we come home from work and complain to our spouse about a nasty boss, a lazy coworker, a nosy friend? We know our partner can't help, and we don't want any help. All we want is a sympathetic ear and an ability to vent. We often feel that if we keep our problem to ourselves, we would explode. So we need to let it out. All we need from a spouse, a friend, or a parent, is to listen. No help. No advise. No judgement. Just patient listening. And when we let off steam, we feel grateful, and we feel better.

Why, then, when our kids come to us with a problem, we feel a strong desire to interfere? They have a problem, so they must need an advise, or help, or a note to a teacher, or a tutor. They need our help in some way. Is it a parent's instinct to always rush to the rescue? When they are little, and they have a problem, most of the time they do need your help. But the more they grow up, the more situations arise when you can't help. And even if you can, you shouldn't. "Helicopter parenting" only makes problems worse.

When a child comes to you with a problem, make time to listen. Stop what you are doing or suggest another more convenient time when you can give him your full attention. Listen and think if he really needs you to interfere, or he simply wants to let off steam. Depending on the situation, offer help or suggest how your child can solve the problem himself. And if he refuses your suggestion, don't immediately rush with another one. He may not have wanted a suggestion. He may simply have wanted a sympathetic ear, or a shoulder to cry on. If he feels better after talking to you, your job is done.

I now know how hard it can be to listen to the same problem over and over again and not being able to do anything about it. But it is important to recognize when you have to listen, and do so. Afterall, we don't appreciate it when we come to our spouse with our problems, and he looks bored, or uninterested, or simply cuts us off because it's a 100th time he listens to the same problem and he can't help. I need to reassess the Yaari situation. Shutting my son out is not a good solution, no matter how irritating it is to listen to the same complains every day.

My first Bar Mitzvah

Today I attended my first Bar Mitzvah. And not a minute too soon, considering that my older son will be having one in a little over a year. Bar Mitzvah ceremony is so important it's often referred to by the Jews as a "wedding". I needed to see how it was done, and I've never even been at one before until today.

We've known Jonathan's parents for a while. My husband took college classes with his father, Avi. When my husband introduced me to him and his wife, Marcia, I liked them immediately, which is saying a lot because I am usually slow to warm up to new people. Marcia is a delightful woman. She always has a lot to say, to share, or to add to the conversation. Even our social differences - her being somewhat liberal, and me being a lot more conservative - do not take away from the pleasure of communicating with her. She is 10 years older then me, which made me even more proud to be considered her friend. Before, I've never had a friend who was so much older (and wiser).

When Marcia got pregnant, she decided not to find out the sex of the baby before its birth. Her husband did want to know, so they decided that he would find out and not tell her. It did not work out very well because at the end she did find out. After she knew she was having a boy, whenever we saw them, we discussed the baby names, and her heart was set on Jonathan.

We first met Jonathan at our wedding, where he arrived in the hands of his father (my husband's best man), being 1-month old. When our first-born was having a bris, the rabbi asked what his Hebrew name was. Being terribly ignorant of Jewish tradition, we did not even know we were supposed to pick a Hebrew name for our son! We picked the only one we knew - Avishai, Jonathan's father's name. So far we love it, and it even starts with the same letter as his secular name, but it was totally spontaneous.

I was sitting in the synagogue listening to Jonathan deliver his speech, but even more attentively listening to his parents speak. Boy, do I need to start working on my speech. It's so important, and I am a terrible public speaker. I am already nervous. But Jonathan's parents do a great job, and so does he. He is growing up into a wonderful young man. Mazal Tov, Jonathan. Grow healthy, and make your parents proud.

The end of an era

My son finally decided to quit gymnastics. He's been doing it for 6 years, and he is finally ready, although I am not sure that I am. I am so used to him doing it, and we had so much fun competing last year, that I am not sure that I want him to quit. But it is his decision, and he decided that practicing 4 times a week, 3.5 hours per practice is not the kind of commitment he wants to make.

I always knew that at some point this would happen. Every time the coaches increased practice time, my husband said that he was putting his foot down, it's too much and it's time to stop. I always said that it's not our decision, and if Mark wants to continue, we should go with it. Some day, I said, he will say that it's too much and he doesn't want to do it anymore. That day is today.

I can't help being a little disappointed. Even though you know it's the right decision, you can't help being disappointed when you invested so much time, effort and money in your child's activity. You can't help wondering what he could have achieved should he stay with it. But I always said it was going to be Mark's decision when to stop, and I am not backing out now, despite my own feelings. I am not pushing him. I am giving him a week to think about it, to make sure that's what he wants. If he doesn't change his mind before the week is over, that's the end of gymnastics.

I am sure he had a great time doing gymnastics, and it's done wonders for his health and strength. Now we have to find a sport that will be as satisfying and as good for him as gymnastics had been. I am sure in the back of his mind, my son has plans for his newly found free time - more playdates, more TV time, more computer games. I have other plans - more reading time, continuing with Russian grammar, alternative sports, more reasonable dinner and bed time, and of course some play time too. So long gymnastics. We'll miss you.

The age before puberty

Today my son has his end of the year party. It's an annual tradition - every year their class has end of the year swim party. This year, however, is different. Today, they will not only be swimming - there also will be a dance. His first dance party to celebrate graduation from elementary school. Alex is absolutely oblivious to the fact that today he will be having his first "adult" party - it's an absolutely ordinary Sunday for him, and he is much more excited about his summer internship for Online Math Circle that he already started and Johns Hopkins University summer program which starts in 3 weeks. I, however, am very nervous. As Alex wonders at my suggestion that he dresses up a little for the party, I go back in time to my own first dance party which also happened in 5th grade.

It was before puberty hit, before I fell in love for the first time, before being popular became paramount. The party was spontaneously organized at one of my classmates' home to celebrate the 8th or March, International Women's Day - a holiday much celebrated in Soviet Russia. A room almost dark, the music of Toto Cutugno playing loudly, and me, slow-dancing with a boy for the first time. I feel very much surprised to be asked to dance, and even more surprised to hear "understanding" whispers of my classmates behind my back. I feel a little shy moving to a slow music, but not yet very much worried about my dancing skills. That will come later. As will puberty. As will my first love and first broken heart. Right now I am just not sure how I feel about the dance. Something tells me it's a good thing, but I am not sure.

A group of us walks home together from the party. "Don't you know that he likes you?" - the girls ask, surprising me again. As if to prove this, he offers to walk home with me, but I refuse. I am just not sure about this at the moment. I will figure things out as puberty hits, bringing infatuations, heartbreaks and jealousy. But now, it's too early. I don't feel any pressure to be what I think other people want me to be. I am being myself - unaware, innocent and shy.

I am getting ready for my son's first dance party. It's the age before puberty. He is not interested in girls yet, and probably will be shy about dancing. I can't help but wonder what his first love will be like. I wonder who she will be. A girl from school or the one he will meet elsewhere? Will she like him back or will he go through a heartbreak like I did? Will I have to console him or share his joy? As I am looking back in the past, I am also looking too far ahead into the future.

Expectations and disapointments

Yesterday, my younger son informed me that his Hebrew teacher recommended him to be in native Hebrew speakers class starting in 3rd grade. "She said I can do it, but it's up to me to choose", - he said. "I want to try it out and see how hard it is first." I can already see that he will not want to go the extra mile required to be in this much more difficult class.

When my older son was promoted to native Hebrew speakers class 1.5 years ago, it was a complete surprise to us. When we found out about it, he already completed one try-out week. We were even more surprised when we found out that the school never promotes a non-native speaker, especially when his parents don't know a word of Hebrew, to this class. At first, teachers suggested that if Alex wants to be in the class, he will need tutoring. Tutoring was quite expensive, and since learning Hebrew at a higher level wasn't a priority, we were hesitant to pay extra money to the school for tutoring him. But Alex wasn't backing out. He was extremely proud of his achievement and determined to do any extra work required to stay in class. He did stay, without tutoring, and is now striving according to his teachers.

Alex never had a problem going an extra mile when it comes to studying. Learning is the most important thing to him. He is the one going to the teachers for extra assignments, taking extra math classes on the Internet, and preparing PowerPoint presentations for his classmates. When it comes to learning, he pushes himself to the limit.

Not so with Mark. Mark loves his gymnastics, and there, he tries to put his best foot forward. But when it comes to school, he takes an easy road. Sure, his report cards always have the highest marks. But that's not because he tries hard - it's because the elementary school program is, well, elementary. He is already complaining that math is too easy, but when given an optional, and more difficult, assignment (the kids get one every week), I have to insist that he does it. I know he can, so I insist. On the latest parent-teacher conference, the teachers complained to me that in writing, he does the minimum. They know he can do more, so they send the assignment back for revision and more writing. "We wouldn't do it if we knew that a child could not do more", - they said, - "but Mark can. He simply is not trying."

There is a difference between pushing a child into doing more than he is ready for, and insisting on doing his best work possible to realize his potential. In first case, you will not only be turning him off education altogether, but you won't get any results. In the second case, there are also two situations possible. If you are lucky, your child will take pleasure in doing his best work, and be proud of the results. If you are not so lucky, your child will simply refuse to do the extra work, and do the minimum to achieve satisfactory results. To complicate this situation even further, there will be a difference between yours and his definition of "satisfactory". And in this second case, if you keep pushing, there is also this danger of turning your child off education completely. If you push him too hard into doing something he doesn't want to do, it will backfire. But if you push him just right, not even letting him feel that he is being "pushed", you may get the results that you want.

So what's a parent to do? If you feel like your child is doing a sloppy job, not trying at all and producing results that are not satisfactory to you or the teachers, you will want to interfere. If, however, he is doing a satisfactory job (even though he can do more), you have two choices.

You may want to leave it as is, giving your child a choice of doing optional assignments (or go to the native Hebrew speakers class in my case) if he feels like it, or simply be satisfied with the good job he is doing without trying too hard. Your child will appreciate the choice. If you tell him "the choice is yours" he may even surprise you and work on this extra assignment once in a while.

Or, you may want to let him know that you expect him to do a better job. You can tell him how proud you feel when he completes his more difficult assignments, learns another language, or gets great results at his chosen sport. You can tell him that you realize that he puts in extra time and effort and you appreciate it. You can even give him a reward once in a while (be sure to do it sparingly though, otherwise he will learn to expect a reward every time he does an extra assignment). But if you decide to go that route, make sure not to overdo it. Taking away privileges, instituting punishments, and fighting over "trying his best" will produce exactly the opposite of what you are trying to achieve. Your child will feel like what he does (and does well in his opinion) is not good enough for you, so there is no sense in even trying. It will turn him off doing a good job, and you will get worse, not better, results.

So for me, no matter how proud I am of Mark being offered a chance to be in native Hebrew speakers class, the challenge is not to push too hard. I will try very hard to convince him to stay in it, but it will be convincing, not pushing. I may even ask for a teacher's help. But in the end, the choice will be his. If he does not take pride in this achievement and does not consider it important, it's not my job to make him suffer through it. He is doing a good job in school, and I appreciate it, even though he is not working very hard to achieve good results. My job is to set the expectations. If he doesn't meet them... well, it's my job to make sure that he feels loved and appreciated all the same.

Reflections on the past school year

The school year is coming to an end. I can't believe that in a week I'll be a mother of a middle-schooler. Time flies.

The last year of elementary school was not a good one for my older son, academically. It started with him being utterly bored in school, and even threatening not to go to school at all if we didn't transfer him to another school. The year started with me fighting with the teachers and the school officials to move Alex to a higher grade - the fight that I miserably lost. Instead, I got promises of individual assignments especially for Alex. They rarely fulfilled this promise. Special math sessions taught by the school counselor to Alex and his (also "mathematically advanced") best friend were not nearly enough of a challenge for either of the boys. To make the school less boring, the two of them prepared PowerPoint presentations for their classmates on different topics in math and science. The two young 5th-grade teachers were not nearly up to the challenge of handling the needs of a gifted kid. They refused to move him to a higher grade, but had no solution to remedy the boredom. Even in Jewish studies - discipline that is not familiar to Alex, he was satisfied neither with the teacher nor with the material that was taught. In conclusion, academically, the year was a waste of time.

However, it was a different story socially. From the first day of school, my "weird" child who had no friends and entertained himself by following girls around for 5 years, suddenly became "normal". Girls became non-existent and hardly ever mentioned. Two boys who transferred from another Jewish school quickly became his best friends, and so did twin sons of our neighbors and friends. Alex finally got his playdates, mostly on weekends as his after-school afternoons are always filled with activities. Occasionally, he requested playdates with other boys, also. So, as frustrated as I was with his academic life, I couldn't be happier about his social development. I would say that academically it was the worst, but socially, it was the biggest year for him yet.

Looking ahead, I hear that academically, middle school at Hausner is far superior to elementary school. In math, they split students into 3 classes according to their abilities - something they've never done in elementary school since 1st grade. Science program also sounds promising. Hebrew remains challenging as Alex continues his studies in native Hebrew speakers' group. I also hope that in social studies they will finally leave native americans topic for good and move to world history. I will monitor the academics closely from the beginning of the year, and if it does not improve significantly compare to 5th grade, the probability of changing schools will be put on a table.

Keeping in mind unsatisfactory academic program in higher elementary grades, I am wondering about my younger son. Not to say that he is bored right now - he couldn't be happier. The reason is that my social butterfly of a little boy couldn't care less what they teach him. He is too busy discussing his former and future playdates and sleepovers with all of his 50 friends. It was all fine with me - on first parent-teacher conference of the year the teachers couldn't say enough about how good he was doing academically and how well-behaved he was. A conference later in the year, however, was a different story. Firstly, Mark was in trouble twice for misbehavior and even was sent to a principal's office along with a few of his friends. Second, his school work fell a victim to his social interactions, making teachers tell me that Mark is not working up to his abilities that they knew he had. Math was extremely easy for him, but writing suffered. Only after I had a serious conversation with Mark and threaten to take him out of gymnastics his work improved.

Looking ahead, again, I wonder how long I can continue to let Mark's social life take precedence over academics. From my experience with my older son, I know that higher elementary grades will not provide Mark with enough challenge to learn up to his potential. Unlike Alex, though, Mark will continue to be content as long as he has enough playdates, sleepovers, and friends to socialize with during school time. So, it's up to me to decide if I want to move him to a more challenging academic environment. Changing schools is always a hustle. Right now I am reluctant to think about it, especially keeping in mind that Mark will be extremely upset about separation from his friends. Surely, it's only for a short time, and he will find new friends easily in another school, but initially it will be an extremely difficult battle for me. Also, having two kids in different schools is logistically quite difficult, considering that each of them has after-school activities for which they will need to be picked up at different schools, possibly at different times. So, for now, I am inclined to leave Mark where he is unless we will be forced to change schools for Alex.

In gymnastics, it was a huge year for Mark. He moved to level 5, and also had his first year of competitions. He enjoyed it tremendously, and so did I. His enthusiasm and his progress were clearly visible. He worn his medals on his sleeve (literally) after each competition, and really took pride of his achievements. Right now, he is training for level 6, and we were just informed that he will need to spend half an hour more at the gym (that's 11 hours a week altogether), and also starting in fall his practice will be moved to late evening. That creates all kinds of problems for us, including no family dinner, no reading, and a later bed time. Right now, I don't know how this change will affect Mark - it may be more than he can physically handle. But we'll have to wait and see, considering that for him, quitting gymnastics is not an option.

Right now we are looking forward to summer. Alex can't wait to start his John Hopkins summer program. That's when he leaves home for 3 weeks to live in the dorm at Stanford. I am dreading the day already. Mark is ready to start his camps where he will be together with his friends from school. We are also planning to do some traveling right before school starts. I hope for a more challenging, more fulfilling next school year for both of my kids.

Window of opportunity

This will be one of the most controversial pieces I've written so far. The main reason I am writing it is not to judge women who marry and have children later in life, because I understand that this does not always depend on a woman's choice. The main reason for this is to answer an all-out assault by the american mass media on traditional family values, the proof of which are several articles from newspapers and magazines that were posted by friends on Facebook.

Recently I came upon a scientific fact that amazed me: the best window of opportunity for a woman to have a child is from 15 to 25 years old. This is her best age to conceive and produce a healthy baby. After that, this opportunity starts to gradually decline.

15 to 25! This is shocking indeed. At this period, many women do not even think of having children. For the part of this period, sex is not even legal! This is teenagers we are talking about. How could nature provide a woman with the best physical ability to have a child at the age when she is the least physically and emotionally able to raise him? Where did nature go wrong?

Then I started thinking about it. Is 15 really that young? Until the last century, and in many cultures even today, 15 was the age when marriage for a woman was not considered something extraordinary. Centuries ago, girls got married a lot earlier than that. In many countries, it is proper for a woman to be married by the age of 18.

And when it comes to physical abilities, it's a relatively recent (and specific to developed countries) phenomenon that 15-year-old young women have hardly any responsibilities around the house. Even 50 years ago, many children performed the same jobs as adults did, and taking full care of a younger sibling would be one of the responsibilities of a 15-year-old (sometimes much younger) girl, thus making her fully capable of raising her own child. Again, this is the situation in many countries even today. Treating 15-year-olds (or 20-year-olds) as children is a relatively recent "developed countries" idea. It's not that women that age are not capable to be mothers. We made them that way. Nature didn't go wrong - we did.

It would seem here that I am advocating for 15-year-olds to have children. I am not. This is the last thing on my mind. The thing I am concerned about though is priorities. A woman finishes high school, goes to college, then she has got to travel and drink and experience life to the fullest, then she goes back to college to get her MBA, then she finally decides that it's time to settle down and have a family, but where is her window of opportunity? By the time she is done with all that she is in her early 30th if she is lucky and close to 40 if she had fun for a little too long. That's when infertility clinics come to help. That's the way Western civilization is going now - infertility clinics. While in the cultures where women marry earlier and have children when nature intended them to, birth rate is skyrocketing. Ours is dying out.

And for those women who do think of settling down earlier and putting their careers on a back burner in order to have kids, there comes media to the rescue. "There is no reason to rush into having kids," - family experts tell us, - "It's hard work. Have fun, experience life, establish your career first." "There is no reason to look for Mr. Right just yet. It's fun to be single," - magazines scream from the shelves, - "it's your time to experiment with drinks, food, clothes, and partners of different sexes. It's your time to LIVE. It's glamorous! It's now! It's independence! It's the Sex and the City way!" Have you ever read in a tabloid magazine about your window of opportunity to have a healthy child? I bet you didn't.

The result? Women are having children later and later in life. That means they are having fewer of them - there is no time for the 2nd or 3rd. And it's lucky for them if they are even able to have a child around 40. For many women, it's too late. That's the part that tabloid magazines don't tell you about. It's just too late. Sure, they might mention how far along our infertility science have come. Do you know how many couples succeed with infertility treatment? 20%. That's including young couples, whose chances are much higher. Imagine what chances you have when you are 40. That's the part that mass media is shielding our young women from.

My older son recently had a puberty education workshop at school. This is a perfect opportunity to talk to your children about when to start having sex, and having a family. For many of us (especially parents who have daughters) it means talking about not having sex too early, sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy prevention. What many parents (especially parents of daughters) are missing, I think, is talking about how important it is to start a family at the right time. It used to be that not getting married "in time" was considered "wrong" by society. Society used to send a message to women - get married, have kids. Now it sends a completely opposite message. That's where parents have to come in. Of course I am not talking about telling your daughter to start dating at 13 and be married by 15. But you have to counter all those "family experts" advice. Talk about the importance of having a family. Talk about the benefits and the joys of it. The joy of having children. Talk about the fact that there is no danger in putting off your MBA for a few years, but putting off having children may have unintended consequences. Tell them that traveling with children is often more rewarding and interesting than traveling without them. You see the world in a whole new light, so "travel before you have children" is a myth. Talk about the joy your kids bring to you every day, and how lucky you are to have them. Tell them that many people are not that lucky, and for most of them, it's their own lifestyle choices that made them that way. Talk about the window of opportunity.

I'll be there

My son is learning human anatomy in school. Last week they had a project - to research a part of the body and present the results to their peers and parents. Today, I was there to listen to their presentations. There were 10 eye, 8 ear, 3 bones, and 2 cancer presentations. I was there to listen. Next week, they start puberty education. Yesterday, the specialist the school hired to teach it was giving a lecture to the parents. I was there. I know I am going to be bombarded with questions all week, and I need to be ready for a counter-attack.

Being there. Isn't it the main purpose of parenthood? Sure, you think your purpose is to guide, to teach, to control. But it all starts with being there. Being there when they are born. Being there and holding their hand the first day you bring them to daycare, when they are crying their eyes out. Being there for the first day of Kindergarten, when you are crying your eyes out. Being there when they read their first word, to congratulate them. Being there for their first competition, be it gymnastics or a soccer game, to tell them they did great no matter if they won or lost. When the question "where do babies come from" pops in their mind - being there with the answer before an older and wiser best friend or a sibling. Being there through the rebellious teenage years, when they try to push you away. Don't go. Stay there. It's your job. No matter how old they are. No matter how old you are.

Every time my parents were there for me, I remember it and appreciate it. Every time they weren't when I needed them, I remember it too, and I hold a grudge. I can't help it. And I wonder - am I there always when my kids need me? Because they don't always tell you. It's your job to know when to be there - when to offer a guidance, a helping hand, some attention, or when to just be. No matter what else goes on in your life - your job, your partner, your friends - being there for your kids is the most rewarding thing in the world.

My ideal backyard

"I have a creative writing homework", - my 5th-grader announced on the way home, - "I need to write an essay." "What's the topic?" - I asked. "My ideal backyard." What? First, I didn't understand. Then, I was angry.

Why was I angry? Maybe, because describing what their ideal backyard would look like was the topic for a Kindergarten, not a 5th-grade essay? Really, how creative can you get writing about a backyard? And how much such an essay would help develop a 5th-grader's thinking?

In my middle school time, we wrote a lot. And I mean a lot. We analyzed works of Pushkin, Gogol', Dostoevsky, Chekhov. Occasionally, we analyzed works of communist writers like Chernyshevsky and Gor'ky, but that's another topic. The keyword here is we analyzed. We had to read and then think, and then write. The essay had to be 4 written pages long. That's hand-written, not typed. Sure, most kids hated it. It was hard work. I personally liked it, because I like writing. But that's besides the point. We didn't just write, we developed our minds, our thinking.

Why cannot american 5th-graders be asked to analyze The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, or Huckleberry Finn, or Uncle Tom's Cabin, for example? Sorry to say I am not very knowledgeable in american literature, but I am sure that there are many great writers and great works that almost middle-schoolers can read and write about. But they are not just not writing about those works, they are not even required to read them. They don't have a list of required reading. Why? Is there not a list of books that every literate child should read by high school? Shouldn't The Adventures of Tom Sawyer be on that list? Shouldn't some of Shakespeare's sonnets? What, a 5th-grader's mind cannot understand some of Shakespeare's sonnets? What a mistake. American education system, can we please come up with the list of required reading? And once we do, can we please test, by means of writing an essay, that a student understood what he read, learned something from the book and made some useful conclusions?

But enough about literature. You want more "creative" writing? Let them write about their family. Let them write about their country. The places they've traveled. What they want to be when they grow up and why. There are so many creative topics that will make them think about things like history, relationships, honor, freedom. Not about how high they would make a slide in their play structure. Because it's just a waste of their time and their minds.

"My ideal backyard" - are you serious, teachers? In 5th grade? What are you thinking? I would really love to read my child's writing. It's so important. It shows his thought process, it shows what's important to him, how his mind works. But I am not even going to look at this essay. I don't care how his ideal backyard would look like. This assignment gives him nothing serious to think about. Not to him and not to me.

A case against the 6th grade

Last week I wrote a school counselor an e-mail insisting again that my son was moved to 6th grade. She wrote in response: "Why would you want to take a year from his childhood? Even if he is academically ready, it's not worth it."

I thought about it and understood that she had a point. At one time, my son will have to leave home and go to college, to live on his own, without his parents. If he would be promoted now, he would have to do it a year sooner than his peers. Would he be ready for that at age 17?

I have to agree that until that moment I was concentrating only on my son's academic achievements, and not thinking that to be promoted he has to be ready both academically and socially. Today in the car he was talking to me about some silly website he wants to create to see "how many dumb people there are." And I thought, here is a case against his promotion to 6th grade, right there. His maturity level is not beyond where it should be in 5th grade.

Thinking back to my own childhood, in 5th grade my social aspirations were mostly dedicated to annoying my teachers. I was a very good student academically, but I didn't like most of my teachers, so I tried to annoy them as much as possible. I had a bunch of friends, but my life was not revolving around them. In 6th grade, it became more about friends. I was becoming more aware of people around me, who I was socializing with. At this time we started to have our first teenage parties too, so I was making sure I got invited. I was getting more socially mature. In 7th grade, I fell in love for the first time, but the concept of dating still didn't occur to me. I wanted to be loved back, but I wasn't sure what I would do with this love. It's not until the end of 7th - 8th grade I was aware that people could go out, date, and do everything that goes with it.

So, it's safe to say that at every age kids hit a social milestone. Of course not all kids hit them at the same time. Just like academically they all learn at different pace, socially they develop differently too. There were girls in my class who started dating at 12 and probably having sex at 13 or 14, while I had a very vague idea what dating was. I was at the top of my class academically, but socially I would say I was about average, and there were many girls ahead of me. A lot of social development has to do with puberty too, and as kids hit puberty at different ages, their social development follows that.

I am not defending my school here, because they are not conducting any tests for Alex not only in academics, but in social aspect too. They simply assume that all kids are not socially ready to be promoted, even if academically they are. This is wrong. Many kids may be very average in academics, but socially way ahead. And for many gifted kids both academic and social development goes together, so they are ready to be promoted. But the school is not willing to consider that. That said, do I believe Alex's social development is at 6th grade level? No. There is probably no test that would determine social maturity, so it's parents' and teachers' call to determine that, and my call is he is not ready socially.

Now, given that, and assuming that all the school's attempts to "challenge" him in 5th grade fail, how damaging it would be for him emotionally to be promoted? Do I want him to waste his time in 5th grade so that he can grow up a little and reach that social 6th-grade milestone, or do I want to promote him anyway and take what damage may come from it? Mostly, it would be hard for him to make friends because of a different level of interests - his is pretty much still "play-oriented", and 6th-graders are probably already thinking about girls. It's not bullying (as many people tell me), it's loneliness that he would be suffering from. There will be no understanding between him and his classmates, no common ground. Would that loneliness damage his self-esteem? Make him miserable in school, perhaps even more miserable than he is now because he is not learning?

I was mad at the school administration at first for not seeing the things my way, but after thinking about it, I have to agree that they have a case too. It would be nice if they could evaluate Alex socially instead of just assuming that he is not mature enough. But even without their evaluation I can tell that he is not. So my dilemma is now pretty much what would make him more miserable: being bored academically or being lonely socially. It's safe to say that I have my work cut out for me.

A case for the 6th grade

A week ago my older son came home and announced that he wanted to change schools. It's not the first time he did that - I've heard it a couple of times before. But this time he was very persistent and serious. "Just give me a chance to shadow in another school, - he said - maybe the stuff they teach will be more difficult. I am bored. I just want to try another school."

It's not in my plans to change schools. I love this one, we've been happy with it for years. I also have a younger son who would also need to change schools should I do it for the older one, and he would be extremely unhappy about the change - he has so many friends in this school, and he loves it. Besides, changing schools wouldn't make any difference - they all follow pretty much the same curriculum. With the knowledge and understanding that Alex has, the only solution is to promote him to a higher grade. I've thought about it for years, and done nothing. I knew I would face an uphill battle. Here in US, it's just not done. But that evening, I was left with no choice. I wrote a teacher a letter describing the situation and asking for a meeting. They promised to address the situation and meet with me.

So they did today. I met with an assembly of teachers, counselors, and the principal. It was quite a gathering. Sadly, it was also quite useless. They really wanted to show that they care. But they had no idea how to address Alex's needs. Despite the assurances that they brainstormed a number of ideas about how to better challenge Alex, they presented not a single one, save one additional math class that he would be taking. So, after listening to them, I presented my idea - to promote him to a 6th grade (I also mentioned it before in my letters to them, so it wasn't a surprise). After that, a meeting turned into a duel.

"We wouldn't do it to him - said one counselor - while he may be ready academically, there is also an emotional aspect, and you can't hurry that up." "All the research shows that this creates more problems that it solves," - said another one. "You are only saying that because you feel helpless. This is not the solution." "This is not on the table, - said the principal - and if you decide to change schools, be very careful of a school that would agree to promote him. This is not a good school."

Why? Why won't they promote a child who is obviously far ahead academically? He is wasting his time working on the material which has long been familiar to him. I tried to reason with them. I tried to explain that while to most kids, even gifted kids, school is about the experience, friends, working together on a project, to Alex school is about getting information, it is about learning new things. He's always required a lot of new information, new facts, new data. He is not getting it.

"We often repeat the themes that we teach, - said the principal, - but we always add a new dimension to them, so students are learning." No you don't. You study native americans, year after year after year. Half a year of history is devoted to native americans. Every year. At home, we've done history of Russia, history of England, Ancient Grece, and life of Leonardo da Vinci. We've also visited the exhibits on Genghis Khan and Tutankhamun and learned about them. We've covered Greek mythology. You study native americans. We've learned world geography and can point most of the countries on a map. You study states and their capitals, and present learning state birds as a challenge. Very useful one. We go to planetariums and have learned about planets, galaxies, stars, and black holes. You teach how salt dissolves in water - something a toddler discovers for himself at age 2.

"Alex's writing skills are right at 5th grade level, - said the teacher, - they are not beyond that". Yes, I know. Writing is our weaker subject. Writing is not about facts, figures, and data, so Alex does not devote a lot of energy to it. But is this a reason to hold him back? Because by not promoting him, they are holding him back. We'll work on writing. We'll take extra homework on writing if required. But a child needs to learn, and he is not learning.

The meeting ended with a counselor's promise to meet with Alex and with me (separately) next week. Why? She wants to talk to us. She wants to know where we are coming from. She wants to know our background and why we are not feeling satisfied. A child is not learning. That's why. What else is there to know and what does our background have to do with anything? Again, they want to show that they care, that they are making an effort. But that does not help us.

There is one useful thing a counselor suggested. "If Alex is not feeling satisfied, - she said, - he has to advocate for himself. He has to go tell a teacher, right at that time. Saying "I am bored" next week does not help." She is right. This is an advice I can give Alex. Keep bugging them. Tell them you need more information. Tell them you are not learning anything new. But my feeling is that will not help much, either. They will learn how to tune him out.

What choice do I have? At this point, only one - look for a school that will take Alex straight to 6th grade (because again, they all follow the same curriculum, and finding a more challenging 5th grade will be next to impossible). But I am so reluctant to do it. To me, there is much more to a school than just information, and our school has all those other things. But it's not about me. It's about my son. Back in the Soviet Union, all schools were the same, and we attended one that was close to home. Here, schools are different, and you need to find one that fits your child best. Our school fit up to this point. Now it doesn't. Time for a change?