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Grade expectations

Chow Yiu-wai often gets teary-eyed when she thinks about the punishing schedule endured by her sons, who attend the same elite primary school she did. 'My eyes turn red whenever I ask myself why we have to go through all this,' she says.

Everyone agrees in theory: education isn't just about getting good grades; youngsters should have room to enjoy their childhood. But most Hong Kong children grow up in a pressure-cooker environment and parents such as Chow feel the strain too. The stress on parents stems as much from schools' expectations and peer pressure as from their own hopes.

Chow, a senior health care manager, and her husband are caring parents who take the day off to tutor their sons, aged six and 10, during exam periods. The TV is turned off every night to make the children concentrate on their work. And every couple of months, she also takes leave to attend school meetings to discuss the children's performance.

Yet the school thinks the couple aren't doing enough. Homework is assigned as much to parents, with the adults told to work with their children to ensure that they keep up their grades. 'We were warned not to wait until our kids fail to get a seat in the affiliated secondary school to start having regrets [about not pushing them harder],' Chow says. 'At first, I found the teacher's remark very offensive but I have to accept it as the reality. Friends and relatives tell me that most band-one schools are the same.'

The heavy programme of tutorials and extra-curricular courses that other parents sign their children up for to give them a head start - and pave their way to a place in a prestigious secondary school - adds to the angst. Chow often wonders if she's shortchanging her sons, although she recognises that some parents 'go overboard'.

'They meet regularly to exchange information, mostly about new supplementary exercises for their kids, teaching aids and extra-curriculum programmes. And children's birthday parties, which should be happy occasions, often turn into solemn discussion forums; that's very frustrating,' she says.

'I keep telling myself not to be influenced, but I can't stop worrying whether I've done enough to help my children develop their potential and ensure that they can compete with others when they grow up.'

Clinical psychologist Daisy Chow Hoi-sze, of the Hong Kong Mood Disorders Centre, reports more children being brought in for counselling because of the strain, with symptoms such as insomnia, bad temper and refusal to go to school. But their parents are equally stressed and some need counselling or referral to her colleagues, she says. Adults usually feel stressed by a combination of complex factors, and their children's performance is only one of them.

K.U. Cho finds it hard to resist enrolling her seven-year-old son in the plethora of extra classes that others deem necessary to bolster youngsters' credentials.

'Many of his schoolmates play more than one musical instrument,' she says. 'I've been warned by my friends that playing piano or violin is the basic skill that a child should have if they want to enrol in an elite secondary school. Of course, the more your kid knows, the better.'

To ensure her son has enough fun and rest, Cho says she won't make him go for extra tuition even if it's the norm at the leading primary school he attends in Yuen Long.

But many parents are like Ho Choi-ying, for whom the school holidays are a time for more cramming rather than having fun. Every morning the housewife sends her son Siu-ho, six, for tuition in mathematics, Chinese and English. And on alternate afternoons, he has piano and drawing lessons. She also spends a couple of hours every day helping Siu-ho with exercises assigned by his school.

'When term starts next month, Siu-ho will be tied up with school-work so we may give up drawing. But we'll continue with piano as he can sit for exams to gain a certificate,' she says.

Perhaps next summer her son can learn chess, Putonghua, skating and Olympiad mathematics, the latest fad among ambitious parents. To pay for the classes, her family must economise - no eating out, for example. But Ho says it's all worthwhile if her son can get into a top school like his sister.

'The earlier we get him prepared, the better,' Ho says. 'All other parents from the school enrol their kids for different classes and sometimes even send them to open contests; it's better for me to follow suit.'

The chairman of the Hong Kong Education Policy Concern Group, Mervyn Cheung Man-ping, says the obsession with building a portfolio in non-academic areas in addition to school subjects is creating an unhealthy cycle.

'Life is so hectic for kids and parents nowadays that they can't really enjoy family life,' he says. 'They have no break at all in summer.'

Cheung blames the government partly for failing to encourage schools and parents to take a balanced approach to its liberal education policy. But he concedes schools are also exerting pressure to maintain their elite status.

Secondary schools have control over 30 per cent of their new admissions, while the remainder is assigned under the central placement system according to grades. Therefore, they tend to choose students who stand out academically as well as in extra-curriculum activities, Cheung says.

'They have to maintain their band-one, English-medium status. To avoid being turned into a Chinese-medium school because of deteriorating results, they become very cautious in selecting new students. At the same time, primary schools try to attract parents by building a reputation of producing top students who go on to prestigious secondary schools,' he says.

Private learning centres such as Multi-Intelligence Development Centre are among those profiting from the frantic dash to improve children's learning profile, offering classes in topics ranging from

speed maths to Putonghua and English recitation - the hot courses this summer. There's even yoga

and Japanese immersion for one-year-olds.

But Cheung remains sceptical about how much such expensive lessons can contribute to a child's development, and suggests parents are overreacting.

Mak Siu-ming, the principal of Shun Tak Fraternal Association Leung Kau Kui College, urges parents not to become anxious if they can't provide their children with similar exposure.

Most students at his school, which made headlines recently for producing a top-scoring student, Chan Yin-fung, in this year's HKCEE exam, come from lower-income or middle-class families who can't afford the extra pursuits, he says.

'It's a matter of personal choice,' he says. 'I wouldn't oppose parents sending their children to interest classes, but equally I don't encourage it if the families can't afford it.

'But I do encourage students to take part in extra-curricular activities like sport and playing music. [It] helps lift their mood and strengthens their team spirit. These needn't cost much; the annual fee for joining our school sports team is less than HK$20,' Mak says.

'Parents come to me for help every now and then when their kids don't do well in school. I would ask them to relax and give their kids a happy family life rather than push them to deliver top grades. I want my pupils to have a happy environment in which to develop their talent. Children should learn to be self-motivated and independent with some guidance from school and family rather than have their lives planned out for them.'

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