A journalistic study of America’s overcommitted, overworked youth.
Today, writes journalist Wallace, “kids are running a course marked out for them, without enough rest or a chance to decide if it’s even a race they want to run.” In a series of anecdotal accounts, the author portrays teenagers working relentlessly on their studies and college-placement exams during the week but then knocking themselves out with booze and drugs on the weekend, and younger children suffering torments of anguish at not being stars on the field or in class. These are, Wallace adds, the children of parents who “have the privilege to choose where they live and where their children go to school.” Perhaps surprisingly, she notes, the statistics indicate that such children are far more likely to abuse drugs and alcohol than are youth in positions of poverty, and far more susceptible to clinical depression. Wallace decries the “achievement culture” that produces such results, arguing that it comes from parents’ expectations that, because children are seen as investments, they should receive a high rate of return, commodifying their flesh and blood. Wallace strays into pop psych here and there, as when she attributes some parental anxiety to the same sort of scarcity thinking that led our hunter-gatherer ancestors to gorge on food whenever it was available, knowing that famine would follow. Given the small number of admissions at top schools—which, ranked by the number of applications declined, thereby become still more elite—those parents are strongly motivated to demand perfection and more from their offspring. Instead, Wallace counsels in a meandering argument that probably won’t do much to dismantle the achievement machine, parents need to focus on building self-esteem, service to others, and “the power of mattering.”
A middling but still provocative rebuttal of the concept of the tiger mother.