Is school lowering your child's IQ?

By Carol Lloyd

Executive Editor 

Did you hear?  There's now cold, hard research confirming what the Dilbert set have long known: meetings make you stupid. What's more, being ranked or assigned a status within a group can have a particularly pernicious effect on our grey matter.  A new study -- led by a team of researchers at California Institute of Technology with four other institutions -- found that IQs can drop precipitously in group settings. 

In the experiment 70 people were given paper-and-pencil IQ tests. They were then divided into similarly scoring groups of five. Seated with the group, each participant was then given a second IQ test, this time on a computer. After each question, individuals would get instant feedback from the screen showing how well they were doing compared to the group as a whole and to one other individual in the group. Initially, everyone performed worse on the test. But as the test continued, some test takers managed to improve, while others continued to perform worse than they had on their paper-and-pencil IQ tests.

IQ and anxiety of influence

In the end, the IQ of the lower performing test takers (the non-improvers) dropped an average of 17.4 points.  For those of you unfamiliar with IQ scoring -- this is substantial.  Much hay is made over far lesser IQ rises and falls.  Question the whole IQ model of intelligence? Join the club.  What's notable is that these findings suggest that IQ isn't stable (as has always been thought) but deeply influenced by the social setting of the environment. 

Not surprisingly, this study is stirring up controversy in the conference rooms of America, the places where adults meet to team build, brainstorm, and make key strategic decisions.  But I couldn't help thinking about what this research meant for the places where our children go to team build, brainstorm and well, take standardized tests: the modern classroom. 

The downside of reading groups?

Watching my 12-year-old daughter struggle to figure out what she needs to concentrate gives me picture of how these principles may play out in real life.   Like many kids nowadays, she never much liked school, but she loved learning.  Her traditional but none-too-orderly classrooms in elementary school didn't capture her interest.  Mostly she complained of "annoying boys" and kids who talked, the constant interruptions, the shifting of focus. Gradually I've learned that she's a) distractible in a group setting, b) competitive, and c) a deep, conscientious learner in the right context.  I'm sure she'd be one of those test takers whose IQ plummets (right along with her mom). 

There's thinking, learning, concentrating and all of these are difficult in a classroom where personalities, rivalries, self-consciousness can impinge on the task at hand. In light of this study even the benign reading groups (each with their own ranking within the class) might lower cognitive capacities for some students. The research also calls into question the toll that competitive settings have on learning.  For some kids, it's no doubt motivating. But for some kids it's probably a distraction that deters their concentration. (I would be especially curious if this stupifying effect is worse for adolescents, who are particularly bothered by social ranking.)

Group think = intellectual funk?

The study doesn't only call into doubt the rankings of children in more traditional classrooms but certain popular assumptions of progressive education as well.  In the crunchiest classrooms, kids are forever working in groups on projects, solving problems and inventing solutions in the form of recycled metropoli and mathematical marble runs.  But if working in groups lowers some people's IQs then perhaps group work shouldn't be the primary path to improved academic performance. The study also may have implications for teaching girls and boys. Interestingly, women in the study were more influenced by the group setting -- they represented 11 of the 14 so-called low performers, while the men represented 10 of the 13 high performers. The researchers wouldn't hazard a guess as to why but one possibility is that women's heightened social awareness (yeah yeah we're trading in stereotypes but humor me, it's distracting when you judge me so harshly) --- um, um -- could be blocking the airways of concentration. 

It's just the beginning of a field of research that will continue to probe the connections between our cognitive and emotional mind.  In the meantime, it's worth wondering how many kids feel their IQs plummeting as they cross the threshold into their classrooms. 

Worlds apart

Connie Matthiessen, Associate Editor

Every day in the U.S., large numbers of children go hungry. A report by the Food and Research Action Center  (FRAC), for example,  found that, in 2010, nearly one in four U.S. households with children struggled to afford food.  Another FRAC report documents the links between poverty, lack of access to fresh fruit and vegetables, and poor health status.

The health of low-income kids is being jeopardized further by school budget shortfalls — in surprising and disturbing ways,  according to an article by The Bay Citizen's environmental health editor, Katharine Mieszkowski.

In her report, Mieszkowski compares physical fitness outcomes at Cesar Chavez elementary School in San Francisco's Mission District, and at Sycamore Valley Elementary school in Danville, a wealthy Bay Area suburb.

At the Danville school, 83 percent of fifth graders passed the statewide physical fitness test, receiving high scores on six different fitness measurements. At Cesar Chavez, not a single fifth grader received healthy scores on all six measurements.  Further analysis by The Bay Citizen found that fitness performance correlates to student income across Bay Area elementary schools. While none of the students at Sycamore Valley have incomes low enough to qualify for free or reduced-price lunch, 85 percent of students at Cesar Chavez do.

It's easy to account for the difference in fitness outcomes at the two schools. The schools are not far from each other geographically, but worlds apart in every other way. At Sycamore Valley, for example, a "physical education specialist" helps kids train for the fitness test. All 21 elementary schools in the San Ramon school district, where Sycamore Valley is located, have such specialists. In contrast, San Francisco's 76 elementary schools share 15 physical education specialists, so Cesar Chavez elementary has to wait it's turn for a small fraction of a specialist's time.

But the differences between the two schools go deeper. At Sycamore Valley, parents pitch in to pay for movement classes for kindergarteners and to buy equipment, like new basketball hoops. The school is located next to a lush park that offers athletic fields and a basketball court, and Danville's safe, wooded streets and large backyards provide plenty of safe open spaces for kids to run and play.  

At Cesar Chavez, in contrast, PE classes are taught by classroom teachers on the schools fenced-in black top. There are no rims on the basketball nets and, given the many poor and homeless families at the school, donations to school programs are scant. There are no fields or parks near the school, just busy urban streets.

It's not news that across the country, budget cuts are hurting schools and that schools in low-income areas — where resources are stretched and parents can't afford to make up for financial shortfalls — are often  hit the hardest. It's not news —  but even in these worst of times, it's shocking to see the very real impact of these inequities on children's lives. With obesity and diabetes rates on the rise and growing evidence of a connection between physical fitness and academic success, we  can't afford to neglect kids' health, no matter how tight budgets are.  Unhealthy kids grow up, in many cases, to be unhealthy adults and by failing them, we're jeopardizing their futures and creating a health emergency that threatens us all.

 

“I had to walk five miles in the snow to get to school…”

By Leslie Crawford, Senior Editor

Every year in January, a few of us at GreatSchools board a plane and fly to Milwaukee. A boondoggle it’s ain’t. Wisconsin can rightly boast no end of charms (cheese, the Packers, breathtaking lakes and national forests, cheese), but jetting there in winter probably isn't on anyone's list of luxury business trips. The day before we left, my San Francisco office mates were sending dire emails – and some ribbing – about the sub-zero temperatures and snowstorm forecasted to arrive just as we did. “Hold onto your nose!” someone wrote before I left.

So why do we pack ourselves into our parkas for such a frigid school field trip? Because that’s when GreatSchools’ co-sponsor’s Milwaukee’s annual school fair, held at the height of the city’s school shopping season. For several years, GreatSchools’ has had a satellite office in Milwaukee (as we do in Washington D.C.), which happens to has one of the most challenging and complicated school systems in the country, a crazy quilt composed of hundreds of public charters, independent charters, virtual charters, public schools, and private schools. If you learn how to use the laudatory Milwaukee Parental Choice Program voucher system to your advantage, you can keep your children out of a failing school and find them a spot in a great one. At the school fair, we talk to parent after worried but devoted parent about how to navigate this labyrinth to get to the pot of gold.

And that’s why we go to the Milwaukee school fair (and others throughout the year), as well as tour several of the city's schools. True to our name, we are there to support parents in their mission to make sure their child gets a great education. They need the support. Like so many parents in America today, they find their kids growing up in a different world than they grew up in. You no longer send your children to your local public school and call it a day. Why? Because the school your child was assigned might be about to be shut down, or be failing your child with subpar classes, or be dangerous. As a parent today, you need to moonlight as an educational advocate for your child. No easy task. Particularly if you’re a working parent with one or two or three jobs, who is also struggling to ensure your kids are clothed and fed. Trying to make sure they get a quality education? Not a given.

But just when you begin to despair that the educational system is broken – that millions of kids are being sacrificed at the altar of a struggling economy, slashed budgets and adult infighting – then you meet parents who show up at the fair because they're fiercely determined to make sure their child doesn’t slip through the cracks. This determination makes all the difference.

You offer them your best advice. Even as an editor at GreatSchools, I have to remind myself to follow in my ongoing struggle to find great schools for my six and 14 year old kids:

1)   Figure out what you want. This isn’t always easy to be clear about what you really want for your child. So make a list of what’s important to you – for your child and family. (e.g. Do I need a school that is close and ok or are you willing to make the drive for a better school? Would my child thrive in small or big classes? Do I want religious or non-denominational school? Uniforms or no uniforms?)  

2)   Let GreatSchools help. Go to our website and after studying test scores and reading parent reviews of top schools in your district, narrow your search to about three to four schools.

3)   Go to the school. This might be the hardest feat to pull off if you’re a overtaxed, working parent. But all the test scores and parent reviews in the world won’t tell you if this school is a fit for your child (one size does not fit all – even for children in the same family) until you step foot inside. What do you see when you get there? Is the staff warm and open to you visiting? Are there signs of learning, maybe art, on the walls? Do the students look happy and engaged? Would you want to spend your days there? (Here's a list of questions to ask and what to look for when visiting.)

Until I landed in Milwaukee, I hadn’t realized this trip is a boondoggle – getting the chance to meet thousands of dedicated teachers, principals, parents, and kids. Sure I never sipped margaritas on a golden-sanded beach. But I don’t tan. Besides, it’s not really that cold in Milwaukee. In fact, there was no lack of warmth at the school fair – at least if you’re talking about the people.

 

"A for effort" no longer a consolation prize

By Jessica Kelmon, Associate Editor

I played violin as a kid. And I was fantastic – at least, I thought I was. My clear memory is of childhood greatness, the next Hilary Hahn. My mom begs to differ, however. "No," she told me recently at a family event. "You really weren’t very good, it was just a really positive, experimental type of class." Huh. It’s hard to reconcile her version with my memory. Probably because the teacher kept telling me how great I was.

And that, in a nutshell, is a problem in schools today – at least according to Stanford University psychologist Carol Dweck, whose work is based on a growing area of research on how good and bad praise affects a child’s motivation.

For decades, schools have been all about building self-esteem and handing out "empty praise." 'You’re so smart,' was the ultimate accolade, while 'A for effort' was like second prize in a beauty contest. But a growing body of research  is making clear that adults' good intentions to bolster kids' self-esteem is resulting in a generation of kids who are  "praise junkies," afraid to try new challenges that could jeopardize their head-of-the-class reps. It’s the unspecific, over-the-top ("You’re so smart!" "You’re the best!") praise that can hinder kids' education, while specific praise for taking risks and tackling difficult tasks ("You worked so hard on that!") helps kids enjoy challenges and be more successful.

A new article in the Washington Post documents how this research is now being understood:

"Children also perform better in the long term when they believe that their intellect is not a birthright but something that grows and develops as they learn new things.

Brain imaging shows how this is true, how connections between nerve cells in the cortex multiply and grow stronger as people learn and practice new skills."

As the Washington Post reports, based on this research educators at a handful of schools across the country are experimenting with new forms of praise that encourages risk-taking and learning from failure. Teachers at a Virginia middle school gave their students a primer on brain development to help the kids understand that they learn better by making new connections and solving problems on their own. Teachers went on to modify their instruction methods, including how and what they praised – curbing their enthusiasm and replacing it with patience while kids work out things on their own. Teachers also were sure to give specific approbation for hard work and effort.

Former D.C. schools chancellor Michelle A. Rhee cites another drawback to general/over-praising: self-assessments that are way off (like mine, with my now questionable violin skills). The Washington Post article includes an anecdote Rhee shares about her kids: "[Rhee] often recounts a story about how her daughters’ many soccer trophies are warping their sense of their athletic abilities. Her daughters 'suck at soccer,' she said in a radio interview last January. 'We’ve become so obsessed with making kids feel good about themselves that we’ve lost sight of building the skills they need to actually be good at things,' Rhee said."

Do you think your kids are victims of empty praise at home or school?

Is your child volunteering for the wrong reason?

I recently heard this story from a 14-year-old middle schooler I’ll call Alex, who along with a few other nervous teens, were being interviewed at a private high school in San Francisco. As is standard practice, part of the interview requires prospective students to write a short essay in response to a writing prompt. As several middle schoolers were frantically scribbling their best prose under pressure, Alex glanced over at another boy sitting next to him to see what he was writing. The essay question was: What makes you happiest?

Alex said that the other student wrote something to the effect of: “I am happiest when I’m doing community service.” Everyone listening to Alex’s story met it with no end of eye-rolling and guffawing. What 14-year-old boy would rather be working in a soup kitchen or pulling weeds in a community garden when he could be kicking a soccer ball, playing a video game or just hanging out with friends? Plus, we could picture the boy being prepped at home by his parents, telling him that if he wants to land a spot in the school, then along with stellar grades and test scores, he’s got to prove a history of helping.

Start 'em when they're young

A colleague told me that at her daughter’s middle school, the high school guidance counselor tells parents to have their children begin community service as young as possible – ideally no later than the sixth grade. The counselor explained that admission directors are more impressed by kids who seem genuinely involved in community service rather than simply volunteering to pad their high school resume.

But if young kids are being told to do it because it gives them a better shot at getting into the school of their choice, then isn’t the volunteerism done for the same calculated reasons as if they started volunteering later on? And just what are we telling our kids about doing good for others if, ultimately, the reason is so they can get something for themselves (entry into a private school). Yet I believe strongly in volunteerism; it's part of the contract of belonging to a community. Starting with your own family and working outward to your neighborhood, city, state, and country, you’re obligated to give back to the community that gives so much to you. In a family, a child should do chores so that he learns that a community only works well when everyone donates time and talent. At home, he gives back by doing the dishes and taking out the trash. In his community, he gives back by volunteering to work at the local homeless shelter.

How to be a good human

Besides, plenty of valuable lessons are learned when a young person does something for others, not because he’s getting an allowance or a perk, but because it’s the right thing to do. If he’s donating his services to an organization that helps those in need, he just might learn to be more empathetic and generous and grateful for the life his parents have worked hard to give him. Compassion, gratitude, and generosity are all character traits essential for becoming a good human being.

My own son does community service by volunteering at our local farmers market, where he works with a farm family who are close friends of mine. It took no small amount of prodding on my part to get my son to trudge down the street on Saturday mornings when he could be sleeping in.

Stepping outside of yourself

The family is in fact doing my son a service by letting him work with them: they’re teaching him the value of honest labor and of being part of a successful enterprise. They put up with him as he learns to quickly count change, cut fruit samples, and stop checking his cell phone during working hours. Why did I push him to do this? It wasn't because of school applications. I wanted him to learn to step outside his  solipsistic teenage world, to become more part of the world. Plus, once I started (as an adult) volunteering for my community, I have found it one of the most satisfying parts of my life. No surprisingly, my son, who started out begrudgingly donating his time – to say the least – now loves working at the market.

If seen in the best light, without cynicism, maybe that’s why high schools want kids who’ve volunteered. Maybe they're as aware as well as any parent that most tweens and teens would rather be trolling Facebook than picking up trash. But by making students do something for others, they’ll be getting kids who have worked their moral muscles and who will be better trained to continue doing so as high schoolers and adutls. So parents, if you haven’t already, get your kids into that soup kitchen. Whatever the initial motivation, the rewards are manifest.

Have you heard of clear backpacks?

By Jessica Kelmon, Associate Editor

In the aftermath of the Columbine shooting in 1999, school officials mandated clear backpacks as a safety precaution. Schools in a handful of districts around the country followed suit. In the wake of tragedy, schools panic and do their best to redouble their efforts to ensure kids’ safety. It’s hard to blame them. But do these knee-jerk safety rules provide much (or any) security?

School safety is an ongoing and very real concern. Last week, news broke of a 15-year-old Brownsville, TX boy who was shot by police. The 8^th grader brought a (very realistic looking) pellet gun to school. That story is still unfurling, with complicated questions about the boy’s weapon and the police’s actions. Yesterday, an 18-year-old Houston high school student shot a classmate at school. Like the Columbine school shootings, these tragedies again bring to the surface the nationwide question about how to make our schools safe.  

And again, school officials are instituting rules that students must bring only clear backpacks to school. After yesterday’s shooting at North Forest High School, the Superintendent is calling for clear backpacks for all students. That high school, however, already has metal detectors. The metal detectors are reportedly easy to avoid either by coming when they’re not turned on or using a side entrance, rendering them ineffective. But will clear backpacks succeed where metal detectors (or other measures) fail? But what if a weapon were simply hidden in a pencil case/binder/extra sweatshirt inside the clear backpack?  

Clear backpacks aren’t alone in the arena of well-intentioned but questionable safety rules. At a middle school in Houston, TX, students are permitted to bring only factory-sealed water bottles to school. The intent is to keep kids from bringing alcohol (disguised as water or other drinks) to school. A worthy goal, of course, but I’ve already thought of three ways to evade this rule. (Plus, such an environmentally unfriendly rule seems particularly inappropriate in an educational setting.) 

Rules such as this seem well-intentioned but not well thought out. What do you think?

What's up with AP?

by Connie Matthiessen, Associate Editor

I attended an alternative high school where students received evaluations instead of grades, so before my own kids got to high school, I didn't know what parents meant when they talked about the virtues of AP versus honor classes, or the complicated calculations that allow students to earn GPA's that top 4.0.

Now that two of my children are in high school, I understand what AP courses are, but I'm still mystified by the educational philosophy that underlies them. My son loved his AP World History course last year — despite the AP exam — because he had an inspired teacher who didn't simply teacher her students how to take the test, but shared with them her love of history. But to do well on the exam itself required hours of rote memorization and last minute cramming, which everyone knows is antithetical to truly learning a subject. At my other son's school, which prides itself on the number of AP courses it offers, many students stuff their schedules with AP classes in a frantic effort to jack up their GPA's as high as possible — foregoing sleep and threatening their physical and emotional health in the process.

Many educators, parents and students question the value of the AP curriculum, and some San Francisco high schools have elected not to offer AP courses anymore, according to a recent report in the San Francisco Chronicle.  Others, including teachers who teach AP courses themselves, worry about the pressure AP courses create on students (see video). The College Board, which created the AP curriculum, is currently revamping the AP exams — in response, at least in part, to such concerns. The new AP exams will include less material, and require more conceptual thinking and less memorization.

While these are positive developments, they aren't likely to stop the academic arms race that so many students are engaged in, since many colleges and universities only accept students with stratospheric GPA's —as the Chronicle article points out.  No wonder so many of our kids are stressed out!

But maybe I'm missing something. What's your experience — and your child's — with AP courses?

 

 

How far should you go to help your child avoid bad teachers?

By Carol Lloyd

Executive Editor

"I'll go to my deathbed regretting letting that happen," my old friend Mark confessed on New Year's Eve after I asked about his twin 9-year-old girls.  A painter in his fifties, he was one of those enthusiastic older dads who had to reinvent the nurture wheel in isolation – without traditional ties to friends or family.  His mother was long dead, his father completely uninterested in being a father much less a grandfather. Many of his closest friends had no children.  And his wife and he had gone through a rancorous divorce. Still, it was obvious he cared passionately about his girls and wanted the very best for them.

Yet he now was stricken with remorse. Not about abuse or negligence or even failing to get them to all those soccer games and ballet classes.  But something I would have regretted, too – sitting by and allowing his kids to return day after day to a classroom with a terrible teacher.

His girls were been enrolled in a small parochial K-8 school where the teacher stayed with a class for two years at a time.  Their 1st and 2nd grade teacher was more Mrs Trunchbull than Miss Honey: She would take his daughter's perfectly done homework except for the missing name and rip it up in front of the classroom. His wife had blocked his suggestions that they move schools: why take the girls out of their routine and away from their friends just because of a teacher? The 3rd and 4th grade teacher, he said, was great but next year they faced the prospect of a 5th and 6th grade teacher with the same vindictive reputation as their 1st and 2nd grade teacher.

Parents' ever expanding job description

Now Mark realized he needed to begin looking for a school at the 11th hour and convince his ex of the merits of this decision with little understanding of the process he was about to embark on.  I got him on Greatschools to research schools in his city, and I tried to give him a one-minute definition of magnets and charters.

There are two kinds of parents out there. Those in the know, and those out of the know vis a vis their kids' education. I used to be the latter and gradually – with plenty of missteps – I've become the former. The division between the two groups isn't about love or smarts or even having been well educated themselves.

Like the health care industry which now expects the average patient to manage their own health care, argue with insurance companies, and keep abreast of the latest technology and health care protocols, the education world now demands even more from parents. More school choice brings more responsibility. Less government funding of schools means parents must to do more to shore up those learning gaps. (And as some private schools become more focused on bottom-line thinking, parents need to be more vigilant that their "great private school" isn't selling their children's future down the river toward cost-effectiveness.)

The economics of Miss Honey and Mrs. Trunchbull

That's why I was so heartened to see a New York Times cover story about a big study on the long-term impact of great teachers (and not-so-great teachers).  This article, I thought before I read the article, is just the sort of thing Mark needs to absorb and use to convince his ex-wife he's not 
crazy for wanting to switch schools. He will see that getting your child in front of good teachers is super-important and bad teachers do indeed take their toll on a child's learning and long-term behavior.

Unfortunately, as with so many education stories these days, this one spoke to a specific debate in the education policy wars (vis a vis evaluating teachers). Not exactly what I was hoping for. The article reported on a new two-decade study of 2.5 million students by economists looking at the correlation between teachers' "value added" (whether they improve or fail to improve their students' standardized test scores) and three long-term outcomes of the students in their classes: teen pregnancy, college attendance at age 20 and earnings at age 28. Sigh. I know we are a metrics-driven society and a metrics-driven epiphany may be the only one that transforms our culture into one that values the teaching profession for what it is – crucial for the evolution of human civilization – but attempting to make that argument by linking value-added scores and long-term earning potential is so inherently flawed that it makes you wonder about what education policy wonks are smoking out there.

There was one very interesting trend revealed in the graphs accompanying the article which I think the article itself sort of missed.  Students who had teachers whose students' scores fell tended to have significantly lower incomes, college attendance rates and higher teenage pregnancy rates. But students with teachers whose students' scores improved slightly but not a lot actually had higher incomes, higher college attendence rates and lower teen pregnancy rates. Judging from this, mediocre teachers (vis a vis test score improvement) have a greater positive long-term impact than value-added rock stars.  Maybe this is because the best teachers work can't be measured by a multiple choice test or maybe it reveals that there are more variables at work than the study can account for.

Either way, there are plenty of reasons we shouldn't abdicate education policy to the economists -- for a few hundred more, check out the comments at the end of the New York Times' story. I'm not anti-standardized test, but there are just too many variables in the way teachers work, receive student assignments, and respond to difficult students for the value-added score to be used as an accurate predictor of a child's future. When I look back on the greatest teachers in my life, getting their students to ace standardized tests were the very last thing on their minds. I can't imagine how the value-added mind set would have effected their teaching.

But the article did highlight one thing Mark needs to know.  If the policy wonks are still a long way from being able to roll out or even measure great teachers, for the foreseeable future, it's on us. While experts wrestle over macro-trends, every parent needs to understand that the teacher standing before their child (or sitting cross-legged in a circle) will make their mark, for better or for worse.

Do you force your kids to write thank you letters?

I haven't reminded my children to write thank you cards for their holiday gifts, but I'm gearing up for it, now that the holiday madness is over.  In fact, it turns out that next week — January 8^th to 15^th — is National Letter Writing Week, so the timing is perfect.

My three kids have very different approaches to writing thank you letters. My daughter actually enjoys the process. She makes her own cards featuring elaborate multi-color drawings, stickers, hearts, and glitter.  She needs just a reminder or two, and then she sits down and writes all her thank you's in quick succession, even finding envelopes and applying stamps without asking for help.

My oldest boy requires the most prodding, cajoling, and straight up haranguing — he'll drag the task out out for weeks by making excuses, getting distracted, and finding other urgent pursuits. When he finally gets down to it, however, he writes heartfelt notes that the recipients treasure.

My other son has forceful opinions on a wide range of topics from Shakespeare ("His plots are great, but he's held back by his use of language"), to the singer Adele ("People who don't like her music are either deaf or stupid"). He considers thank you cards yet another tedious adult invention — along with homework, piano practice, summer camp, and domestic chores — to deprive kids of precious free time. "Thank you cards are an old fashioned ritual that no one cares about anymore," he argues. Or, when he’s feeling more existential: "If I'm forced to write a thank you card, is that really an expression of gratitude?" But when he finally relents, he sits down and writes very short but very thoughtful notes.  

I hated writing thank you letters as a kid, too, but I make my children write them anyway. Why?  I think it's important to acknowledge and express gratitude for gifts we receive. I love e-mail and texting and I don't write as many letters as I'd like; still, I think that many emotions, including gratitude, sympathy, and love, are best expressed in words and on paper, which gives them clarity and shape, as well as weight and permanence. It may be a dying art, but I believe that letter writing still plays an important role in human discourse. 

Like so many human interactions, writing thank you notes benefits the (letter) writer as much, if not more, than the recipient. Writing letters creates a genuine connection with another human being, which is always a good thing. On a more concrete note, here at GreatSchools we often emphasize the importance of getting your kids writing any way you can, because writing is such an essential learning tool. (Of course, receiving letters is nice, too: a friend told me recently that she's saved every thank you card she's ever received from her nieces and nephews).

How about you? Will you enforce this “old fashioned ritual” in your household? Why or why not?

How much will college really cost?

By Jessica Kelmon, Associate Editor

As an adult with major (read: crippling) student loans, I want to be a parent who pays for college, and – dare to dream – I think it’d be cool to retire someday. Full disclosure: I’m an optimist. So I’ve been following the news about the student loan crisis with interest – and some nail biting.  Defaults are at record highs and college tuitions keep going up with no sign of the education bubble popping. I read with shock and awe the stories student-borrowers (many in medical fields) have shared about their debt loads. (The comments on this article are particularly jaw-dropping.)

Yet there’s one piece of information that I’ve found wanting: the actual cost of college. Sure, you can google the tuition for UCLA or Harvard or any school, but we all know that college costs range wildly across the country and most parents don't just plunk down full tuition, room, and board without some financial aid. Say what you will about the utility of the Dept. of Education, but they’ve got a shiny new rule that aims to force colleges to answer that question for us all. As of October 2011, all colleges have been required to provide net price calculators. 

The net price is that elusive amount you’ll actually pay after you’ve been awarded all the grants and scholarships you’ll hopefully get – the amount that’ll have to be covered by savings, subsidized and unsubsidized loans, and, if those don’t cover it, the loan-shark-rate loans that make up the difference. There’s a handy website where you can search for any college and be linked to their mandated net price calculator, if it exists. They explain the net cost as follows:

“For decades, many parents and aspiring college students have begun the process by looking at published costs of enrollment, called the “sticker price.” However, the sticker price for college is often very different from the “net price.” Understanding your expected net price for various colleges is the first step towards making an affordable college choice.”

Despite the DOE's laudable goal, more than 250 colleges have yet to follow this rule, and many parents and future students aren’t aware of this research asset, either. To overcome this PR hurdle, the DOE has set up a contest to get the word out: $1,500 prizes for the three best videos about college net price calculators!  

Like many consumer disclosure rules that aim to create transparency about a complex financial transaction, it's easier said than done. I tried the calculator out on my alma mater (UCLA) and still can’t really find the cost. I punched in some fake-but-reasonable numbers and it generated way more grant money than I know I’d ever get, then proceeded to give an estimated net cost of around $25K per year. In both of the fake scenarios I tried, predicted loan awards were enough to cover this net cost.  However, the devil is in the details. Hover over the “awards,” and you only learn these are the amounts you might be offered: but at a reasonable, subsidized Stafford loan rate or a loan-shark private rate? Remarkably, that info is missing. And either way, the projected amount owed at graduation with capitalized interest and variable interest rates that reset every year? Similarly missing. Sigh.  For parents or students trying to calculate their financial futures, this kind of transparency is as clear as, well, mud.

My request to the DOE: Nice first step; but please enact another rule that connects these dots. Because the monthly payment that’s coming six months out of school and follows you around for a decade? That’s the number we all need to see.