In my day job I worry about child labor in Nepal. In my night job I go to Little League games and ballet recitals. On a recent Saturday I attended my 7-year old daughter's T-ball game. I was deeply touched by the way the father-coach gently coaxed my reluctant baseball player into the game.
However, last Saturday I attended my older daughter's ballet recital. Early in the show, the 3 and 4 year olds are trotted out on the stage. These little girls are so crushingly innocent that the audience cannot control their spontaneous gasps and applause. Ten years ago, I would have been one of those parents; moved to tears by such sweetness. Last Saturday I found myself cold with rage.
My son plays Little League too. I laugh when I think back about his first year. He could hit the ball off the T all right, but then head straight to third base and on into left field.
Then, in the farm league, they learn to hit from a pitched ball. In the minors they learn how to steal. In the majors, they learn how to cheat.
My husband is the assistant coach. His job: pitch counter. The league has determined the maximum number of pitches that an 11-year old can safely throw. The problem: unless there is someone there actually counting every single pitch, some coaches will cheat and keep a star player on the mound as long as it leads to victory.
I now see these moments of apparent innocence as a step down the path to ultimate exploitation. Little girls start ballet in pink tights and little shoes. Older students and parents pitch in, helping in the class and backstage during recitals. Its all one big happy family where we all share a love of music and dance and art and children.
My daughter's studio is precisely this, or was. The charm of the place was that students of all abilities and shapes had the opportunity to work with some very talented and high energy dancers. This school was an extraordinary community asset. But no more.
As the girls approach middle school, some are selected for a pre-professional track. A love of dance and a willingness to work hard are no longer enough. Now, its your body type and your natural ability, characteristics over which a young girl has no control.
Such a family: all sweetness and light when you are four; All competition when you are twelve. The students, of course, learn their lesson well. These girls, once fast friends, are now each other's most vicious critics: "she's a ho, she's too fat, she hasn't had her growth spurt yet, she'll never be CLARA!"
What is the market mechanism that brings us to such an unhealthy setting for girls so concerned about their looks and their place in our communities? There are three ways to make extra-normal profits in our hyper-competitive economy:
- You can come up with a really creative idea. Its hard to argue with someone getting rich on a great idea.
Or, more likely,
- You can build pockets of monopoly power into your business. This is what I believe happens in programs designed for children. As a parent you identify a program that seems well-suited for your child's needs. The family makes an investment in the program. Your child sees the other children and the teachers as friends and mentors.
Now you are vulnerable. Now you are stuck. First its a $50 costume fee and $18 recital tickets. From there, selection sets in. The star performers are used to build the school's reputation. Or, as is the case with dance, sell tickets.
Last fall, we found ourself in just such a bind. Our daughter has been with the same studio for ten years. These are her best friends. She cares profoundly whether she is accepted. She is profoundly concerned with her looks.
Last fall, she wasn't moved up into the next level of the pre-professional track. It was the beginning of one of the most painful periods of my life watching her suffer so deeply. For months, the rejection affected her school work, her behavior around the house and her overall sense of well-being.
Taking her out of the school wasn't an option. Dance and this studio is her whole life. Leaving her in wasn't an option. Every dance class was a reminder that she wasn't good enough to still be part of this dance family that she valued so much.
So last Saturday night turned me cold and angry. Seeing those sweet little girls and knowing what is in store for them ...
Why do adults do this to these beautiful little people? In the case of Little League, its just the uncensored drive to win. In the case of ballet, the school is providing under-employed choreographers with reasonably skilled dancers with which to work.
Why do adults thinks it is OK to use children to achieve their own personal objectives? They are just children, with a child's throwing arm or a child's round little tummy and a profound desire for unconditional love and acceptance.
Oh, and the 3rd way to make money?
- Steal.