The dangers of a kiasu mentality.

Somewhere, in Singapore, as I write at 10.30 pm, there is a child at work. This child is nine years old, and still has hours of homework to do. Every day, when he comes home from a full day at school, he is required, by his mother, to start upon his homework. This can take an hour or two. Once this is done, you would have thought that his efforts would be over for the day...but no, they are just beginning.

After this little boy has finished his official homework, his mother sets him more homework. This second round of parentally appointed homework tends to require more time, more effort and more thought than the work he is required to do for school. The mother calculates that he should have enough homework to keep him busy until midnight, at the least.

Some nights there is too much homework. Some nights his mother overdoes the extra homework and the little boy is unable to finish it before midnight. Does the mother then let him sleep, for school in the morning? No. He is required to work on, until he finishes, sometimes not until one or two a.m.

Once the boy awakes, at perhaps five thirty a.m., from too short a sleep, he is off to school, for another full day at school, knowing, all the while, that home will be no respite. When he returns home, an endless evening of homework awaits him.

This is a nine year old boy's life, in Singapore. It is also a true story.

Now, how do you think this endless round of academic demands and incessant home and schoolwork makes this boy feel? What is his young life like? Is it a happy one? Is he stressed? Will he grow up with fond memories of his "childhood"? Will he know what it is like to play with friends? Will he ever have any friends? How long will he be able to keep up the pace before he can no longer go on?

This last question is of particular relevance because there is something I have not yet told you about this real life young boy. He has a pacemaker. That is right: he has an electronic device inside his chest, keeping his heart going at times when it feels like stopping.

This little boy, who lives a life of incessant homework and endless school days, and never ending academic demands, has a heart problem. The question is: did his stressful academic life cause his heart troubles? Is his parentally imposed way of life in danger of killing him? I am not privy to the cause of his heart problems and whether his stressful schooling is actually the cause - but it is clear that his daily late nights and endless study sessions cannot be helping his health. It is even possible that this rigorous "education" will lead him to an early death.

So, why is his mother doing this to her son? She says that she wants to make sure that her son "gets a good job" when he grows up. She seems to have overlooked the fact that she is greatly impairing his chances of ever living long enough to grow up in the first place, with her educational regimen.

This boy never sleeps a proper night's sleep. He never rests. He never plays. He is ever working, endlessly scribbling, never ceasing to cover pages with his jottings. He knows nothing of life, but that of the answering of workbook questions, the learning of school material, the solution of maths problems, and the like. He is ever tired, ever wishing to sleep - and on top of all this, he has a heart that could stop at any minute, were it not for a pacemaker keeping him alive.

This is a Singapore schoolboy's life. This is the result of the kiasu ("afraid to lose") attitude of the parents. It seems to me, in this case, to be no coincidence that "kills" and "kiasu" both begin with "ki...", for surely this regimen could kill this boy.

This is just one case of kiasu parenting that I have come across. No doubt Singapore is filled with variants on this tale. I rather feel it is time to set aside the kiasu mentality. It does nothing to ensure the future of Singapore and its people - but rather does much to ensure that they will suffer too much to have much of a future.

If this boy survives his childhood - which, I would have thought is far from certain - he will have had one of the most unhappy of childhoods he could have had. I very much doubt whether he will become a balanced, happy, contributing adult. It is more likely that he will spend the rest of his life (if he survives) trying to overcome the damage done to him by the childhood he endured.

The most poignant thing about all of this, perhaps, is that the mother will have convinced herself that she is showing "love" of her boy, by trying to ensure that he has the brightest possible future. Perhaps she should settle for giving him the nicest possible present. After all, this particular boy may not even live to see that future she imagines - especially if she continues to ignore his health needs, as she is.

So, if you ever feel yourself overcome with a wave of kiasu-ness, please think on this Singaporean story of a schoolboy. Do you want your kid to have this kind of childhood?

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

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