Too much, too young
Despite all the intoxicating talk about China's economic progress and prospects, parents are acutely aware that only a very small percentage of children will grow up to enjoy a life of prosperity.
While the standard of living has dramatically improved, the vast majority will still spend their lives struggling to eke out a living.
That awareness has fostered a ruthless competitiveness in many parents, who push their children to academic extremes. The well-intentioned desire to give their children a head start means pressure begins at a very early stage.
The Chinese Medical Association has recently concluded a survey that shows the majority of pre-school children in major cities are not getting enough sleep because of pressure to study.
Kindergartens that teach children from the age of 18 months are offering extra classes before and after normal school hours. Children of two, three and four years of age are often in class from 7am to 7pm, as parents pile on the extra-curricular activities in the hope of giving them a competitive edge.
The medical association has found that these children are averaging eight to nine hours' sleep each night, when they should be getting 11-12 hours. Any less, and they risk insomnia and other chronic diseases later in life. Experts also say that because growth hormones are usually secreted during sleep, children's growth could be stunted.
The pressure on the children intensifies as they move to secondary school and approach the all-important college entrance exam.
Take Wang Rui, for instance, a Beijinger who will turn 17 in a few months. This time next year, he will take the exam and his parents are intent on him finishing in the top 3 per cent, so that he can land a place at one of the prestigious universities.
His life consists of a 5.30am start, when he squeezes in a couple of hours' study before school. He cycles to school and enters the rigorous regime there. Straight after school, he cycles home, has a quick dinner and studies until 11.30pm, when he finally goes to bed and prepares to do it all over again.
Weekends and holidays are seen purely as cram-study opportunities, with 16-hour revision programmes.
He has no social life and although he is an avid basketball fan, he cannot remember the last time he played. He has never had a girlfriend and does not watch television. He considers his life normal, and in his circles it is, as his classmates follow similar routines.
His mother applies tacit pressure. Although in semi-retirement, she is looking for a job abroad as a Chinese-language teacher so she can scrape together enough money to pay for his master's degree.
Wang Rui is a charming, considerate and clever youngster, but he is miserable and does not like himself. He is in the top 10 per cent of his class, yet considers himself a failure who will soon bitterly disappoint those who love him.
It is people like Wang Rui who have the potential to elevate China to a higher plateau. But the educational system and parental pressure are conspiring to ensure they take a lot of emotional and psychological baggage on their journey.
