Empathy Education: It can come from books!

A small selection of incredible books that transport kids out of their bubbles.

I grew up in southern Orange County, California. There were two Latino kids in my grade level (hi Ernie and Michelle) and one African-American girl (hi Tammy).  When John moved to our neighborhood, from China, not speaking a word of English, the school assigned me (who knew only 3 words in Chinese, and a different dialect to boot) to be his buddy, because my last name made me the most-Chinese kid they had to offer. In the '80s, I was exotic because I was biracial, but because I knew almost no other kids of Asian decent, I usually just considered myself white.

I dearly loved history. But in conservative South County, I was taught that the Civil War was not about slavery, but rather about railroads and states' rights. I was taught that Manifest Destiny was an unfettered good. When my award-winning History Day project, "Casualities of the Westward Trail," won only third place at state level, dinged by the Native American judge who wondered why I only included white casualties, everyone assured me that he had been terribly unfair to me.

And yet, when I got to UCLA and read Zinn's People's History of the United States for the first time in Sociology 1, I understood it immediately.  The notion of looking at the world and history from various points of view made perfect sense to me. Why? How could this Orange Country girl, who had really only been taught one view of history and power, so easily accept looking at the world from another angle?

I "got it" because, without realizing it, I had always seen history from a variety of angles. Cassie from Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry taught me about sharecropping and the Jim Crow South. Karana from Island of the Blue Dolphins taught me about native Californians and surviving off the land.  Laura Ingalls Wilder completely won me over with her portrayal of homesteading life.  Anne Frank taught me about the horrors of the Holocaust. And while Scarlett and Melanie taught me about privileged white life in the pre-Civil War South, Mammy and Prissy taught me about slavery. I learned the "women's point of view" from the main characters of the scores of YA historical romances I read growing up, from pre-Revolutionary indentured servants to Lowell Mills girls to Suffragettes. These characters quite often wore beaded bodices on their book covers, but from the pages, they told the stories of actual girls living in other times. I can see now that many of the mental images that these characters gave me were far from perfect. Far too many were wealthy (and dreamed mostly of silks) and the soldiers and blacksmiths who swept them off their feet were often far too progressive to be realistic. Nor would I ever recommend studying Prissy to someone wanting to understand the cruelty of the Antebellum South. But, every book added up. Every character was a friend of a sort. I grew up in an almost entirely white world, but through my books, I grew up with friends and confidantes of every color and class background, and every historical period.

Our country is deeply divided and increasingly segregated. It's no wonder we don't understand each other. We don't know each other. We can't move kids from neighborhood to neighborhood to teach them about difference and diversity (And yet, it would help so much!  How many of us have changed our minds about some class or group of people after befriending a member of that group?). But, we can share books.  And we can talk about books. And we can share discussions of those books -- bringing together a diversity of voices, about a diversity of topics.

Through books and discussion, we can teach history and culture, and we can foster empathy and compassion. Books help us to step into another person's shoes and see the world through their eyes.  Let's spread that experience as much as possible. (And, as I write this, here at EdBoost, we're formulating a plan to do just that....).

For now, here are a handful of my favorite children's and YA book recommendations:

I Am Malala by Malala Yousefsai: Everyone should read this book. It's an amazing window into Taliban rule, and the people who initially welcomed it, through the eyes of a truly inspirational young woman (the "Young Readers" version of this book is not quite as historically and geographically detailed as the full version, but it's a great read for the 5th-8th grade set).

Tiger Rising by Kate DiCamillo: Welcome to rural Florida. See it through the eyes of kids who not only have very little in terms of material goods, but in terms of compassion from their peers. And see how a couple of outcasts build a happiness of their own (for slightly younger kids, Because of Winn-Dixie, in the same setting, is also a great read).

Elijah of Buxton by Christopher Paul Curtis: This book, by the author of The Watsons go to Birmingham, is set in a tiny village of runaway slaves, just over the border into Canada, just after 1850.  Elijah, the 11-year-old main character is so likeable and his adventure so interesting, that the historical import of the setting just seeps into you as you read. 

Trash by Andy Mulligan: The poverty of the third-world trash heap is overwhelming.  But see how these scrappy kids survive on what the rest of society discards -- and enjoy a gripping and thrilling mystery to boot.

Sold by Patricia McCormick: From America 2016, it's easy to take for granted that "women are equal" -- but watching Lakshmi, a 13 year old Nepali girl, sold into marriage puts it all in perspective.  Learn about her world and also her tenacity.

Cut also by Patricia McCormick: Many of us know someone who suffers from anxiety, depression, or some kind of self-harm disorder. But it's so hard to know what's inside people's heads.  Why do people act the way that they do?  Why is it so hard to help people who are suffering?  Cut takes you into the heart and head of a cutter and it really helps you see mental illness from the inside.

What books do you recommend to kids who want to broaden -- or burst -- the bubbles that they live in?

Why I Enable (Encourage?) my 5-year-old's Pokemon Go! Obsession

The cover of the "Pokemon Book" the girl is "writing"

"Mama is a softie."
"Hope we can have fun with real people, not Pokemons."
"I would not hand my phone over to a 5 year old. Heck, it's not even paid for yet."

Yes, according to grandma, Mama is a softie for letting the girl, just starting kindergarten, play Pokemon Go! on her phone. And, if you get the subtext, not only am I crazy to let the girl walk around with my phone, but I'm encouraging a "video game mentality," where kids interact with computers and shun people.

So, why do I, the mom who has let her kid play very few video games (I recently learned that she is embarrassingly behind her peers when it comes to using a PlayStation controller) let her walk around the neighborhood playing Pokemon Go?

The more we play, the more reasons I find.

First, it makes her want to walk.  We're a walking family and we live in a walkable part of the city. But, while the girl is a good walker, she often used to preface her Friday night restaurant choice with, "Which places can we drive to?" Now, she nixes all the driving places, often preferring a walk much longer than her dad is willing to take when she's moving at a Pokemon-playing pace. A few weekends ago we took a 3-mile round-trip walk to the thrift store to pick up some books. It was 2:00 on a sunny California afternoon, and the thrift shop has parking; even I considered driving! But she wanted to walk, so we did. Thanks Pokemon Go!

Pokemon Go! also adds a crazy techno-innocence (and cheapness!) to our outings. Our big adventures this month? To the La Brea Tar Pits to catch Charmanders and to the Santa Monica Pier to catch water-type Pokemon. We were outside, everything was free, we met all kinds of random people (many also playing Pokemon). Fun, cheap, easy, entertained. What more can a mom ask for?

And, far from stripping the girl of her imagination, Pokemon Go! feeds it. There are Pokemon everywhere in my house. She catches them on the street (even when she's not actually playing Pokemon), kneeling down suddenly to coax a Pokemon into her hand, pushing me out of the way so she can sic one of her Evees on a Rhython blocking our path, or handing her Pokemon "case" to me when I drop her at school, so I can take them to their "Pokemon day care." She tells me that you can collect baby or adult Pokemon, but she prefers the babies because "the adults pass away much more faster." And, she always reminds me, if I carry the Pokemon case too close to my body, the Pikachus might poke me. They're naughty. They do that.

As an educator, I can't help but notice the small, but important, academic skills she learns while playing: while many of my very smart test prep students don't know the words "combative" or "lure," my child now speaks obsessively about "combat power," "lures," and "evolving" and "revitalizing" her Pokemon, not to mention raising the "prestige" of red gyms.

Pokemon Go! also tackles a perennial problem for our younger students: place value. It's hard to get little kids to conceptualize the difference between 100 and 1,000 -- to them, it's just "a lot." Many of our students get bogged down saying long numbers correctly and comparing multi-digit numbers (why wouldn't a number that starts with 9 automatically be bigger than a number that starts with 1?).  Thanks to Pokemon Go!, my girl can tell you that her Vaporean, with a CP of 1614 can "easily defeat" an Arcanine with CP of 950. Oh, and as for sight words, she can now identify fire, water, psychic, ground, bug, and grass type Pokemon. She can't read all of the info in her Pokedex yet, but she sure is more motivated to learn to read than she used to be.

And don't get me started on alphabetical order.  Now that no one uses dictionaries, alphabetizing is a lost art (my very smart tutors spend far longer than they should filing student folders!), but my child scrolls through her Pokemon, looking for a "Geodude with a G" like a pro.

And yet, my favorite part of Pokemon Go! is that it teaches economy in a way that is direct, tangible, and free. I have found it impossible to convince my child (or our students) that spending $4 on junk food (or coin-operated rides at the mall) diminishes their ability to buy something they might really want later on. They simply cannot resist the instant gratification. For my girl, purchasing opportunities are too rare, and everything she buys with her own money is a luxury anyway, so she rarely feels the angst of wishing she had that $4 back. Thus, money spent, no lessons learned.

But, a kid who uses up all of her raspberries on weak Pokemon regrets it when faced with a 900+ CP Snorlax that she desperately wants. And, a kid with bad aim will quickly learn that foregoing Pokestops (where more pokeballs can be acquired for free) in order to catch more Pokemon, means an empty stock of Pokeballs just few blocks later. A player who squanders her stardust or candies on unworthy Pokemon regrets it almost immediately. My girl has gone from someone who blithely uses up her resources for a measly Ratatta, to a girl who carefully considers which Pokemon is "worth" an Ultraball. It's a lesson I have been trying to teach with money for a year and which Pokemon Go! has deeply imprinted in just a month.

It's not a perfect game, for sure. I worry that my kid -- or one of my EdBoost kids or staff members (yes, we all play) -- will get run over crossing a street while also catching a Paras or a Pidgey. But, as a new trend in video games, I like it. And, I think it goes a long way towards teaching through hands-on experience -- something we are constantly trying to create for students. Why not take advantage when it's built into something they WANT to do? When parents ask me my opinion, as I know they will, Pokemon Go! (in moderation, of course) will get my thumbs up.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go walk some kilometers and hatch some Pokemon eggs (oh, and did I mention that my kid now measures distance in kilometers?).

"I'm Paying for it Myself."

A parent on a Los Angeles parent list posted today, "We wondered what other parents are giving their teenage children for 'allowance'...we just want to know if we are giving our daughter too little or too much." The parent noted that the child drives herself back and forth to school and they gave her $60 a week to cover gas and "lunch" (in quotes, because the student always waited until she got home to fix lunch). The parent also noted that the student always seemed to be asking for more money come the weekend.

Another parent sympathized with the quandary. "I am torn between wanting to pay for them to go out to eat with their friends because I love seeing them out having fun vs. what should they pay on their own to teach them responsibility."

It felt like the parents really wanted to give their kids enough money to enjoy life. It was sweet and generous. One parent explicitly asked for advice and stories, but no "judgement." And yet, the judging side of me could not help but recall spending my teen days at the mall, running on a single $1 Hotdog-on-a-Stick because there was no way I was spending more than that (back in the day, when I made $3.10 an hour!) on food.

Reading these posts, I felt stuck between wanting to be a generous parent and wanting my child to suffer (you know, just like I did!).

Then, my 5:30 SAT tutoring appointment was a few minutes late. It's not uncommon. Students walk in late all the time. Traffic in LA can be rough.  After school activities run late.  They lose track of the time.  They oversleep.  No big deal. But Alejandra came rushing in, breathing hard, "I'm sorry... the bus!"

She wasted no time getting to a desk and pulling folders out of her backpack.

"Did you do your work for me?" I asked, as I always ask. "Of course!  I'm paying for this myself!"

At that moment, it clicked. This is why the generous side of me should NOT prevail; we should not give Quinn spending money. Most of my students cruise in, take a few minutes to get their work out, stop in the bathroom, and then want to answer their texts during tutoring.  They do their homework about 50% of the time. They want SAT prep -- they definitely want to raise their SAT scores! - but they don't value the time like Alejandra does.  Alejandra who spent winter break chasing kids around the L.A. Live ice rink so that she could come to EdBoost and work on her SAT scores.

I also thought of Jessica, one of our star students, whom we recently hired as a tutor (and who, I am proud to say is universally both loved and feared by students!). We're doing college applications together, and unlike so many other students who apply willy-nilly, she thought carefully about every school she added to her Common Application.  Her family is low-income so almost all of her application fees have been waived, but she'd be covering the cost of the extra SAT reports. "Oh! That's not bad at all!" she exclaimed, surprised but grateful to learn that she could cover a school ($11.25) with just an hour of work.

I think I'll pay Quinn's college application fees. I paid for all of my own gas, entertainment, and food out (though I had free range of the pantry for me and my friends!) but my mom covered SAT and AP costs and college app fees. That still seems fair to me. SAT tutoring? That's a harder one.  I'm considering the tack taken by another recent student's family. I complimented him for ALWAYS doing his homework.  He laughed, "My mom says if I miss even one assignment, I have to pay for my own tutoring!" He never missed a page.