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Fouryearsago,YitingreceivedanacceptanceletterfromHarvardUniversity,alongwithanoteoffe...
Four years ago, Yiting received an acceptance letter from Harvard University, along with a note offering her a full scholarship. To find out how this feat was accomplished, some 3 million Chinese have bought copies of Harvard Girl, an unsparing do-it-yourself book written by Yiting's parents, Zhang Xinwu and Liu Weihua. The book's central theme is very appealing: correctly reared, any child can become if not a prodigy then at least a candidate for a top-notch school.
But the rigorous discipline and sacrifices involved in raising an overachiever are not for the faint of heart. The authors of Harvard Girl took their cues from the teachings of Carl Weter, an 18th century German priest whose advocacy of an aggressively proactive parenting approach was years ahead of its time. Weter's theories on raising smart kids helped his son learn six languages by age 9 and earn two doctorates by 16. During her pregnancy, Weihua—whose own educational aspirations were shattered by the Cultural Revolution—read a book outlining Weter's methods and decided to put them into action with her own baby.
While the importance of early learning is a given in the West, the concept is unfamiliar in China. "A lot of Chinese parents just let their kids play until they're six," explains father Zhang. Yiting's parents started their daughter's education when she was 15 days old. She received massages to stimulate her senses, and relatives were drafted to talk nonstop during the infant's every waking hour—a verbal barrage "crucial to developing IQ," claims Weihua.
In urban China, where families are allowed but one offspring, single children are often spoiled. Not so for little Yiting. Regular meal times were enforced, and snacks—the digestion of which, the parents feared, would divert blood from her brain—were verboten. By age 3, Yiting was doing household chores. When she sassed, she was made to write lengthy explanations of her behavior in a diary. When she had difficulty with calculation, she copied numbers from the Chengdu phone book. "If we wanted Liu Yiting to grow up to be an exceptional person," write her parents, "she would have to be able to withstand great psychological pressures and physical trials." So Yiting was assigned character-building tasks such as long-distance swims and holding an ice cube until her hand turned purple.
There is a saying in China that goes, "Academic success will give you a house with a golden roof and a spouse as pure as jade." No wonder Harvard Girl, despite its martial overtones, struck a popular chord. And what of the book's protagonist? While she might bridle at the sight of an ice cube, Yiting, who is starting her final semester in applied math and economics, says she is grateful for her parents' role in her early education. "Did it make me their puppet?" she asks. "The answer has to be no. I'm pretty goal-oriented because of them. My parents gave me the ability to create my own life and be happy." And to beat the odds. 展开
But the rigorous discipline and sacrifices involved in raising an overachiever are not for the faint of heart. The authors of Harvard Girl took their cues from the teachings of Carl Weter, an 18th century German priest whose advocacy of an aggressively proactive parenting approach was years ahead of its time. Weter's theories on raising smart kids helped his son learn six languages by age 9 and earn two doctorates by 16. During her pregnancy, Weihua—whose own educational aspirations were shattered by the Cultural Revolution—read a book outlining Weter's methods and decided to put them into action with her own baby.
While the importance of early learning is a given in the West, the concept is unfamiliar in China. "A lot of Chinese parents just let their kids play until they're six," explains father Zhang. Yiting's parents started their daughter's education when she was 15 days old. She received massages to stimulate her senses, and relatives were drafted to talk nonstop during the infant's every waking hour—a verbal barrage "crucial to developing IQ," claims Weihua.
In urban China, where families are allowed but one offspring, single children are often spoiled. Not so for little Yiting. Regular meal times were enforced, and snacks—the digestion of which, the parents feared, would divert blood from her brain—were verboten. By age 3, Yiting was doing household chores. When she sassed, she was made to write lengthy explanations of her behavior in a diary. When she had difficulty with calculation, she copied numbers from the Chengdu phone book. "If we wanted Liu Yiting to grow up to be an exceptional person," write her parents, "she would have to be able to withstand great psychological pressures and physical trials." So Yiting was assigned character-building tasks such as long-distance swims and holding an ice cube until her hand turned purple.
There is a saying in China that goes, "Academic success will give you a house with a golden roof and a spouse as pure as jade." No wonder Harvard Girl, despite its martial overtones, struck a popular chord. And what of the book's protagonist? While she might bridle at the sight of an ice cube, Yiting, who is starting her final semester in applied math and economics, says she is grateful for her parents' role in her early education. "Did it make me their puppet?" she asks. "The answer has to be no. I'm pretty goal-oriented because of them. My parents gave me the ability to create my own life and be happy." And to beat the odds. 展开
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