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Mainland babies in a class of their own when it comes to parental expectations

On a cold, wet Friday morning, only a third of the children turn up for the 45-minute class in Shanghai's Putuo district.

It's not as if the children can get there themselves. Junjun, the eldest, is just 21 months old. Nini, the youngest, is 19 months old.

Their young teacher begins the class by leading the children and various accompanying grandparents on a walk around the sides of a square painted on the ground.

The early education centre, which says its tuition is based on the theories of famed Italian educator Maria Montessori, says the exercise helps calm the children and concentrate their minds for learning.

The teacher then shows them how to stick coloured flowers on a paper vase, saying it can help them learn to recognise different colours. Next up, the children play with toys, including beads, cups, stuffed toys and toy bricks that they fetch from a shelf by themselves. The teacher plays with each of them occasionally before a group game that only Junjun seems to enjoy.

The class ends with the teacher asking each child to stand in front of the others and announce their name, age and gender.

It's just one of many similar sessions offered by an early education industry that is spreading rapidly across the mainland, despite experts cautioning that it might not deliver the results desired.

More city parents are bringing their children, aged from just two months to six years, to such classes, believing that an early start to learning helps lay the foundation for future success.

Junjun is a quiet, obedient boy who rarely smiles. But he can recite two English words - apple and milk - when prompted by his grandmother.

For the past three months his parents or grandparents have taken him to classes at the Combaby early education centre - one of dozens of early learning brands in Shanghai - every Friday and Sunday morning. Each class costs 120 yuan (HK$142).

When Junjun was about a year old, his mother paid a Japanese man to visit the home and talk Japanese to him for an hour.

That lasted for about two months until his mother decided to send Junjun to an early learning centre about 10 kilometres from their home that offered bilingual teaching in English and Chinese.

Not long afterwards, her mother-in-law says, she transferred Junjun to Combaby, because it's right next door to their apartment complex.

'Everything we do is for the benefit of our kid,' his grandmother says. 'His grandfather and I don't know anything about early learning, and it is arranged by his mother. She believes in spending money on the kid - the more the better.'

Nini's grandmother seems to have a clearer idea of why she is at the class.

'The reason we are here are is that the teaching method is more advanced than family members can offer and it can provide an environment for my granddaughter to communicate with other children,' she says.

'Otherwise she will grow to be too selfish, with everything in our family centred around her and everyone serving her.'

She says Nini cannot speak yet, but once she does the family will take her to learn English at another centre, where they have already booked a place. They also plan to enrol Nini in piano and calligraphy classes in the next two years.

'The competition in society is very fierce,' she says.

'As the old saying goes, clumsy birds have to start flying early. We believe this and must start our learning early and diligently.'

There are about 20 million babies born on the mainland each year, half born in its cities.

Combaby president Zhou Hanmin says that with less than 10 per cent of city infants attending early learning centres there is plenty of room for the industry to grow, even though centres have been mushrooming across the mainland for the past decade.

His company opened its first centre, in Shanghai, in 2003 and now has 200 scattered across 23 provinces and municipalities. Total revenue hit 237 million yuan in 2009.

Zhou says 70 per cent of Combaby's 80,000 children are younger than three. 'Our youngest member is four months old and for these young babies we play some exercises to spur their senses,' he says. 'In the meanwhile we brief their parents on how to explore babies' intelligence.'

The growth of the industry, on the back of strong demand, has exceeded his initial expectations.

'Chinese parents are in a frenzy about early learning because of the tradition of valuing education and also because of the one-child policy, so that families will spare no expense to nurture their kids,' Zhou says.

'Another reason is that parents feel the current living pressure, especially in major cities, is high and they expect competition in the future will be even more cut-throat. Many of them believe their children's future success or failure is very much related to the family's endeavour in educating the child. If it's a failure, it's possible that the parents will be blamed for not providing a good enough education or growing environment.'

Sandra Ho, director of Gymboree Shanghai Gubei Centre, said more companies had jumped into the early learning sector, creating a 'warring states period'.

A wide variety of courses are available at different centres, with themes ranging from sports to music, dancing, arts and craft, playing and even economics.

The Beijing-based FasTracKids franchise focuses on teaching basic economics to children between the ages of three and six.

Director Liu Jingting says it introduces the concepts of ancient currencies, barter trading, income and spending, as well as organising children to carry out market investigations. It charges about 230 yuan for each 90-minute class, she says, adding that it helps develop communication skills and leadership.

Gong Hangyu's five-year-old daughter Elly is a student at FasTracKids. She's also been learning horse-riding, fencing, swimming, English, ballet and piano.

'I think if you haven't done a thing, you don't know where your talent lies,' the 35-year-old Beijing-based marketing director says.

'So I take her to be exposed to many things and if she likes it, I will give her more training. I don't want to hold up her potential, otherwise I will regret it.'

Other parents are not convinced that early learning centres offer any benefits. Mandy Zhu, a 39-year-old clerical worker in Shanghai, says 'their teaching can't compete with my own teaching at home'.

Her 19-month-old daughter has read dozens of cartoon books, can tell a story and recite a dozen ancient Chinese poems, she says.

Chu Zhaohui, a researcher at the Beijing-based China National Institute for Educational Research, said he did not agree with sending young children to learn specific knowledge or skills, but it would be all right if they were only playing around.

'For a toddler, we must focus on developing a good personality,' Chu says. 'Knowledge teaching at such an early age will suffocate their imagination and stifle their interest towards the world. That will affect their future development.'

Tao Anzi, another education researcher in Beijing, says the major problem with early learning institutions is that they undercut the parent-child relationship because parents will spend less time with their children.

'There is no book advocating early learning's positive impact on children's intelligence, but all the books emphasise that the parent-kid relationship is crucial for children's future sense of happiness,' she says.

Go figure

It costs this much, in yuan, for a class teaching toddlers the basics of economics: 230 yuan

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