i am dad

Are Angry Birds really so bad for a six-year-old?

 

 

Master J plays a Go-Cart game on his mum's Galaxy S phone, with the Pororo clip he's found on his own on YouTube paused in the background...

 

 

Master J has been pretty keen on mobile phone-based games for the last year or so. He has also taken a real liking to YouTube, and become quite adept at using it all on his own to find his favourite vintage Disney clips as well as a host of other cartoon series.

 

His latest craze is with the insanely popular Angry Birds game app.

 

I'm sure I'm not alone in being a parent who wonders how advantageous or possibly detrimental early exposure to (and independent proficiency with) digital media and games can be for younger children. As someone who had to go down the street and find one of those tabletop versions of Space Invaders to play with as a child of similar age, I'm not exactly born with the sort of antenna that provides readily accessible judgment calls in this area. 

 

I think it's safe to say that there is in fact a lot of development going on when our six-year-old immerses himself in these games. Cognitive and spatial awareness. Problem-solving. Hand-eye coordination. Objective-setting. The list goes on.

 

Beyond the fact that I had very little access to these things at a similar age, I think the real issue is that it is so hard to see how digital games are helping our boy develop; on the contrary, the negative effects (obsession, crankiness when denied access, seemingly completely cut off from the real world surroundings, etc.) appear to be so much more salient.

 

So I basically found a way to actually see into this a little deeper, drawing also on my belief that two particular activities -- speaking and visualising -- are fantastic for early childhood development.

 

I got Master J to explain the games to me. And to draw them.

 

Like this:

 

 

 

 

This is Master J's visualisation of how Angry Birds works.

 

Well, sort of.

 

As it turns out, he also uses this picture to imagine playing the game (which he does by moving his finger over the paper and orally explaining processes, interrupted by regular sound effects). AND, by drawing it he can make his own version of it, with the sorts of inclusions he personally wants to see there.

 

Interacting with this picture during 'story time' in bed, it is mind-boggling to hear what Master J is thinking, realising and imagining. As I mentioned, I think the visualisation and oracy is very good for him as a developing little person, but the talking also maintains a social aspect that I think is really important.

 

And a dad worrying about whether his kid is sinking into a sort of mental and social stupor finds he actually has rather little to worry about (and a whole lot to celebrate).

 

If you're worried about your kids with digital games, I think that really depends on what you're doing with them. That's you as in plural: you and your child together.

 

 

=D

 

                                                 

 

The budding potential of a buddy system

 

Image: Michael Randall

 

 

When I first heard that my child's primary school was using a 'buddy system', I must admit I initially thought it was a bit of a gimmick: a nice idea in theory that wouldn't amount to all that much in real terms at (play)ground level.

 

After all, from what I remember of the first couple of years of primary school (other than the baffled feeling about singing 'God Save the Queen' alongside our national anthem), children from the older grades were a source of terror and intimidation. Wandering anywhere near the grade 5/6 haunts felt rather like swimming in Great White Shark infested waters with a whopping big ribeye steak hanging around your neck.

 

Four months into Master J's prep year at school, I am genuinely delighted to eat my own words and admit that, not only is this a fantastic initiative, in the case of our own child, it actually works. Spectacularly.

 

I noticed it first in about the third week of school. In dropping Master J off at school, we'd parked in a different spot and needed to walk past the section of the schoolyard where the 'big kids' were skylarking about in those precious free minutes before the bell goes in the morning. Master J was getting very nervous. "I don't want to walk this way," he said, glancing about furtively.

 

Abruptly, a lanky boy (who must have been of giant proportions to Master J) leaned over the school fence and said "G'day J! How's it going?" and offered him a high five. J's face lit up, and abruptly he completely relaxed. As we continued on, he told me proudly: "That's Angus. He's my buddy."

 

I was impressed. And jealous. Three weeks into his prep year at school, J had a mate/mentor that could help alleviate the 'big kids' stress I had to deal with until at least Grade 4!

 

But still, one morning hello (positive as that is) does not a great buddy system make. Buddy Angus from Grade 5 was to show me that it can and does go further than that.

 

At the school's Food Fair some time later, Master J was wandering a couple of metres in front of us when he was stopped by two of the older kids. They knew Master J by name and wanted to say hello and give him high fives. I heard one of them say to some of the other kids in their little gang: "That's J. He's Angus's buddy." None of these lads had seen me or had any way of knowing J's dad was within earshot. In other words, this wasn't a show or pretence.

 

That was when it really dawned on me that this buddy thing really meant something. Far from being a gimmick or politically correct (but essentially empty) initiative, the buddy system had really become a part of my kid's school's culture.

 

I saw Angus from time to time around the school, rolling in the playground with J, in the prep classroom helping J make paper flowers for Mother's Day.

 

But the best bit of all came well outside the bounds of school and physically far away from Angus himself.

 

Master J was dashing about a playground down on Geelong's Eastern Beach one sunny weekend with his little 2 year-old sister Miss H. His mother and I were 10-20 metres away. A group of three youths I'd never seen before wandered past J and his sister. One of them spotted J, stopped his friends and went over to him. As I rose from the park bench, wandering what this lout was doing (about to harrass my little son), I heard the boy say hi to J and give him a high five. As he rejoined his friends (and totally oblivious to me), I heard him say -- almost nonchalantly -- "Oh, that's J. Angus's buddy from school..."

 

The buddy system, so obviously a real part of the school spirit and culture, was quite suddenly (and poignantly) a natural part of these children's broader community spirit.

 

How bloody brilliant is that???

 

The issue of bullying in school and the broader community is real, as almost all children would be willing to attest to, and it is one of a bunch of fears that I think most parents have churning away in the pits of their stomachs.

 

Seeing the real-world effects of this successful buddy system, I feel that little bit safer and assured. My little lad already has more bigger kids looking out for him in prep -- and not just around the school itself -- than I ever had all the way through all the years of primary school.

 

I've spoken to other parents (at our school and from other schools) who haven't experienced a buddy system result quite as positive as ours, and there are in fact some stories of buddies actually being quite bullyish. So I'll count my blessings with this obviously stand up Grade Fiver named Angus, but also stress that this is something really worth fostering more, so that more kids get the same positive experiences my boy has had.

 

When it works, it makes a real difference.

 

 

=D

 

                                      

Whoops

 

 

 

 

Note to self:

Make sure older siblings (who might like to draw maps on the way to school in the back of the car) do not leave their colour texta pens within reach of younger siblings who -- in the space of less than 2 minutes -- can come up with some pretty elaborate body art.

 

Pretty funny strolling into the childcare centre today with Miss H adorned in this fashion. Given the colour of the texta, the initial looks are of horror, followed by instant laughter (then occasional looks of sympathy at the parent).

 

Thank goodness it washed off easily enough... Back in my day, colour texta stayed on your skin for days.

 

 

=D

 

                                            

IAGOLP

 

 

Worlds of wisdom on parenting?  Image: Sarah Gilbert

 

 

No. It's not a new app from Apple catering to golfing enthusiasts based in Korea.

IAGOLP stands for Imaginary Authoritative Guidelines On Laudable Parenting.

You see IAGOLP everywhere these days. Whole sections of mass-market bookstores are dedicated to them. They're a regular fixture in newspapers, magazines and on those plasticky hosted morning television shows. And sure, you can find them all over the Internet these days in the form of sites and blogs.

Apparently, the act of parenting has been such a colossal mass failure over the past 40,000 years or so that we need a constant stream of authoritative experts (many with impressive tertiary qualifications, and many whose children have already in fact grown up and left home) to help rectify this sad situation.

I'll be referring to IAGOLP in many of the posts I add to this blog.

To me they're like a set of standards that are fuzzed enough to apply to everyone (and therefore, nobody in particular), and make parents feel like they're doing something noble and dedicated by being willing to buy a book on the subject. There are of course the occasional highly relevant tips and tricks, but IAGOLP can also be brilliant for stoking the guilt you already feel about certain aspects of your parenting, and turning you into a paranoid parenting android.

It can, of course, be a very positive and proactive thing to read around and listen to advice. But not, I think, at the automatic expense of drawing on your own common sense and just applying eyes, ears, heart and grey matter to the context only you and your family can ever really hope to understand.

Besides that, I don't think I've ever seen anything in a self-help book or on a talk show that came remotely close to the accuracy and relevance of advice or anecdotes from everyday friends and acquaintances. People who weren't trying to sell it to me, basically.

What do you think? Am I giving the voluminous parenting 'self-help' industry (and our collective infatuation with it) an unfair rap?

I mean, book sales don't lie, do they?

 

 

=D