<p>I’ve had this discussion many times with friends who are teachers that are my age (born in the 50’s and 60’s). We all grew up in a time when our parents had little to do with educating us, other than paying tuition IF we went to private elementary/secondary school (most of us didn’t) and demanding to see our report cards (and punishing us accordingly when they weren’t good). Other than that, we were left on our own. No tutoring, no monitoring, no keeping up with when things were due, no proofreading (I’d HATE to read some of the papers and lab reports I got A’s and B’s on in high school), NOTHING. Other than, “What are your grades?!”… after the fact. The quality of our work was, I’m sure, less than our children’s. Why? Are they so much more superior? Or perhaps it was because our parents didn’t give a rat’s a** what we were doing in our spare time as long as we didn’t embarass them by getting in trouble, and didn’t flunk out.</p>
<p>Nowaday, middle class kids have a ton more financial support in the way of private tutors and programs, guidance, oversight, and cultivating, than we had, for the most part. I’m sure most educators would agree. This is probably where the “helicopter parent” phenomena has come from. What is it about our generation, the quote, <em>flower generation</em>, that now we come down soooo hard on our children to fill every hour doing something worthwhile? What were we doing when we were teens? Was is so altruistic? I don’t know about you all, but I remember an awful lot of hanging out on the beach, waterskiing, and general lollygagging. </p>
<p>I do believe that we, as a generation, are a LOT more involved in our children’s lives than our parents were in ours. I believe it’s turning into a phenomena similar to the “science fair” paradox- the more parents participate, the more the competition, the more the parents participate, the more competition, etc. etc. It’s an endless cycle.</p>
<p>As for me, I just don’t have the energy or the brains to keep up with what my kids are doing anymore. I relish the opportunity to just be a mom (I learned the word “relish” here on CC).</p>
<p>doubleplay, that endless cycle is a killer. The whole college helicoptering thing reminds me of the commercialization of youth sports. My son is a baseball player, but we’ve never paid one red cent for private batting or pitching lessons. We had a very competitive rec program so we never felt compelled to put him on select teams. It was difficult in the early years when all these other kids were starting infield and my kid subbed in the outfield and maybe got an inning at second base, but we just weren’t going to spend thousands of dollars on what was supposed to be fun. We knew he was never going to win a sports scholarship. But he hung in there and last year played HS varsity as a freshman, as his skills improved with maturity. Meanwhile some former teammates had elbow surgery at 12 from overuse!</p>
<p>Bottom line: When you see “everyone else” doing it, it’s hard not to buy into the whole game. But that’s why I come on CC, to get my college anxieties out here and not let my son know I even have any!!! I want to be informed so I can help him know the questions that need to be asked. I was first-generation college and had no help whatsoever.</p>
<p>Youdontsay,
Don’t I know it! We did the baseball thing for years (both kids played). Starting in the 4th and 5th grades, Little League was not good enough- you “had” to do the AAU, comp teams, summer leagues, elite teams, showcases, not to mention lessons on the side and summer camps at universities. It really got to be ridiculous. Most of the kids who did all these things didn’t get any further than those who didn’t- although their parents (usually dad) would make sure the varsity coaches all knew that their son was involved on all those extra teams, to make them look better. The worst experience we had was when a couple parents on our son’s school team decided to increase their kids’ chances of playing by starting a smear campaign against some of the other players and their parents. It really got ugly. Now that we’re done, I realize what an emotional toll all that took on us. It’s hard for Johnny to compete with Billy when there’s another game of politics going on in the background that he’s completely unaware of.</p>
<p>OK, end of rant, sorry to get off track.</p>
<p>(Oh, we did have our son take a handful of pitching lessons when the coach started having him pitch. We were told he was doing some things incorrectly and would blow his arm out if he didn’t fix the problems.)</p>
<p>Kamera, I was just thinking about how when my kids push back, then I know it’s time to stop interfering. When they are college age, even upper high school–they tell me when it’s enough, and I try to listen. Treating an older child with respect comes easily if the child respectfully speaks out about his or her boundaries. It doesn’t always come out sounding completely respectful every time, but none of us is perfect, kids or parents!</p>
<p>My parents have recently developed helicopter tendencies, and I’ve got to say, I find it really irritating and also completely mystifying. I’ve always been an independent and consistent student, albeit one with some sloppy study habits, but I’m first in my class and I’ve asked for help on maybe two projects in my life-- so who cares if my performance cost me a few insomniac nights, right? </p>
<p>Apparently my parents do-- now, at least. And I’m not quite sure what brought this on-- maybe the fact that my homework load has increased exponentially this year, although my performance remains level. It’s not that they’re constantly red-penciling my essays or reworking my physics calculations. In most subjects, they simply can’t offer that level of assistance-- they’re both immigrants with an imperfect grasp of the English language. (I actually proofread all their correspondence.)</p>
<p>They just keep giving me these friendly little reminders to get-working-or-else. It doesn’t matter that I perform better under pressure, that it’s worked for me all these years, that I like my last-minute bursts of creativity, and that my work is better because of them. </p>
<p>I think I’ve learned my lesson now. All I’ve got to do is keep silent and let my parents believe my schedule has become miraculously light. They can’t “help” me with my assignments if they don’t know about them. ;)</p>
<h2>UK Guardian- today- (it’s an international condition)</h2>
<p>Trend of ‘hovering’ over graduate children on rise
· Evidence of some trying to negotiate offspring’s salary </p>
<p>Donald MacLeod
Thursday January 3, 2008
The Guardian </p>
<p>The feared five
Paul Redmond, head of careers at the University of Liverpool, describes the five types of helicopter parent:
The agent
Operates like a footballer’s agent: fixing deals, arranging contracts, smoothing out local difficulties. It’s the agent’s job to represent his or her client at events which, for whatever reason, the client feels are simply too tedious to attend. Having an agent helicopter parent is like having Max Clifford working for you round the clock.
The banker
Accessible online, face to face or via personal hotline, the banker is unique in the world of financial services for charging no APR, asking few if any questions, expecting no collateral, and being psychologically inclined to say yes no matter how illogical or poorly articulated the request. The banker is also resigned to never seeing loans repaid.
The white knight
This parent appears at short notice to resolve awkward situations. Once resolved, the idea is the white knight will fade anonymously into the background.
The Bodyguard
The primary function of the bodyguard is to protect the client from a range of embarrassing social situations, such as cancelling appointments and soaking up complaints on behalf of their client.
The black hawk
Dreaded by teachers and educational administrators, the black hawk is unique among helicopter parents due to their willingness to go to any lengths - legal or illegal - to give their offspring a positional advantage. Particularly lethal when elected to parent-teacher associations.
· Read Paul Redmond’s piece Here comes the chopper. Have your say on the Education.Guardian.co.uk blog Blogposts | The Guardian</p>