At A Loss For Words: How America Is Failing Our Children

1. Jack and Jill

1 Jack and Jill Jack and Jill Went up the hill, Full of hope and laughter. Jack got to play And learn all day, But Jill kept struggling after. W hy do some students learn easily and joyfully while others in the same classrooms continue to struggle? Why are so many of our children coming to kindergarten so far behind their peers that “All children shall start school ready to learn”1 is an unrealized national goal rather than a safe assumption? Why is there an “achievement gap” between haves and have-nots, and why is it so difficult to close? The answers to these questions are complex. Yet it is becoming increasingly clear that much of the explanation lies in what we are doing—and not doing—as parents and teachers, as communities and as a country, to support our youngest children. The more we learn about the astounding capabilities of young children, the rapidity of their learning, and the impact of that learning on their later development, the clearer this becomes. Before we examine the evidence though, let us look at two real children whose daily experiences and approaches to learning illustrate what research captures on a larger scale. Jack and Jill2 are two real children who live in suburban towns in eastern Massachusetts. At the time of this writing, Jack is two-and-a-half and Jill has just turned three. Both children live in two-parent families where both parents work, so both children spend much of their time in a formal childcare setting. Both are oldest children with a younger brother. Both children are healthy, with no biological risk factors, sensory-motor impairments, or diagnosed handicapping conditions. Both come from middle-income, English-speaking families and hear only standard English in their daily lives. 4 Chapter One Unfortunately, this is where the similarity ends. Jack’s parents have jobs that allow them some flexibility in when and where they work and enough discretionary income to purchase relatively expensive child care. Jack spends three days a week in a family child-care home with an exemplary educational program. The rest of his waking hours are spent with one of his parents or, occasionally, with a grandparent. Jill’s parents both work long hours with no flexibility. Jill spends two days a week with her grandparents and three days at the best child-care center her parents can afford. Jill’s mother works required overtime nearly every week; Jill and her baby brother spend a lot of time in her office waiting for her to finish. In their solitary play, interaction with adults and peers, and especially in their use of language, Jack and Jill are as different as night and day. These differences, as we shall see, are priming one child to flourish and the other to struggle when they reach elementary school. Jack is full of curiosity and constantly on the go. He has only recently learned to talk, but he keeps up a steady stream of conversation. His pronunciation is a bit idiosyncratic—c’s become t’s and s’s are sometimes left out entirely—but his parents, teacher, and playmates understand most of what he says. Jill is much more “well-behaved.” She’ll sit quietly for an hour, playing with a toy, or, if no toy is available, fiddling with her fingers or just watching whatever is going on around her. Her speech is quite clear, but she tends to speak only when spoken to. Spend a little time playing with Jack and with Jill, and you’ll see even starker differences. Let’s eavesdrop on a typical playtime conversation between Jack and his mother. Notice the range of ways in which Jack uses language, how much he knows, and how his mother extends his vocabulary as she joins him in play. Jack: Go park now? Jack’s Mother: Yes. We can go to the park. Can you get your jacket on? Jack: No jacket. Park. Mother: It’s cold outside today, Jack. You have to wear your jacket if you want to go to the park. Jack: No. No cold. No jacket. Go park now. Mother (putting on the jacket as Jack squirms): Ooh, where did your hand go? Oh—Here it comes! Hi, Jack’s hand! Oh, no—the other one got lost! There it comes! OK—You do the zipper. Then we can go to the park. (Jack pulls up the zipper and looks to his...