Hothouse Kids: The Dilemma of the Gifted Child

In "Hothouse Kids," author Alissa Quart provides common-sense realism into an industry that capitalizes on talented children, and the parents who follow along in pursuit of "giftedness" for their children. Quart navigates the reader through an industry only too eager to sell goods and services upon gullible parents to make their kids smarter. DVDs, CDs, and even baby formula, are sold with dubious claims of increasing the child's intelligence, but supported by minimal evidence of actually working. We meet parents who expose their children to a dizzying array of early enrichment activities, from infant second- and third-language education to toddler soccer lessons, with a belief that this will increase the chances of developing a gifted child. We read about the intelligence testing industry, supported by the elite schools that pursue children with the very highest scores. Not surprisingly, we find a related industry of highly-paid tutors who work to improve the chances of scoring well on these tests. We meet others as well - child painters who sell their works for thousands of dollars, Scrabble competitors, and even teens who participate in preaching tournaments - all supported by parents who reflect the pressure to succeed upon their children. I feel that a true appreciation of this book cannot be found unless you've also read Quart's earlier book "Branded." "Hothouse Kids" is merely an extension of the excessive marketing focus on children and the coddling parents who allow it to happen. In some respects, "Hothouse Kids" argues that some parents see giftedness as just another "brand" that they can buy for their kids. As giftedness becomes more commoditized, too many children will find themselves trying to live up to the label, enormous expectations that they may never meet in adulthood. It is no surprise to me that some strongly disagree with the Quart's conclusions, since they challenge the very decisions that parents make about their children's lives. But the narrative examples in this book are all too common of what I have experienced as the parent of talented children. I feel this is a fair, balanced articulation of the dilemma faced by many parents, and will resonate with those who resist the urge to push their children too far, too soon.

Hothouse Kids is an acutely observed take on the pressures we place on kids today -- all kids, from the truly gifted to the wonderfully ordinary. Much has been written about the "Hurried Children" phenomenon, but this book has an interesting new angle on modern-day parenting: the dangers of forced giftedness. Quart gives us example after example -- from the erstwhile pianist whose piano now hangs, literally, over his head in his living room, to Jennifer Koh, a violinist who embraced music because it was the only thing she felt belonged to her in a world of meaningless over-achievement. If you are a parent, this book will probably make you uncomfortable, but you'll be glad you read it.

In Hothouse Kids, Alissa Quart takes us inside the strange and compelling world of the child genius. Her clever take on the world of child enrichment is sure to engage, and the anecdotal evidence she marshals is actually fun to read. I bought it. I liked it. I recommend it.

This is a book that's analytical and introspective, but ultimately succeds so well because of the portraits it paints of an amazing variety of characters. It's hard to talk about them without giving too much away, but there are child preachers and a former music prodigy who lives--literally--with a piano hanging over his head. While it's useful both for people raising kids and people (and that means all of us) coming to terms with their own childhoods, this is the very antithesis of all the books that make uo the "how-to" complex. It's a literary, readable, moving book about childhood and adulthood and a culture obsessed with measurable success, and I would recommend this to anybody who has an interest in an amazingly well reported work of smart cultural journalism.