The Trouble With Boys
They're kinetic, maddening and failing at school.
Now educators are trying new ways to help them succeed.
By Peg Tyre Newsweek Jan. 30, 2006
Spend a few minutes on the phone with Danny Frankhuizen and you
come away thinking, "What a nice boy." He's thoughtful, articulate,
bright. He has a good relationship with his mom, goes to church every
Sunday, loves the rock band Phish and spends hours each day practicing
his guitar. But once he's inside his large public Salt Lake City high
school, everything seems to go wrong. He's 16, but he can't stay
organized. He finishes his homework and then can't find it in his
backpack. He loses focus in class, and his teachers, with 40 kids to
wrangle, aren't much help. "If I miss a concept, they tell me, 'Figure
it out yourself'," says Danny. Last year Danny's grades dropped from
B's to D's and F's. The sophomore, who once dreamed of Stanford, is
pulling his grades up but worries that "I won't even get accepted at
community college.
His mother, Susie Malcom, a math teacher who is divorced, says
it's been wrenching to watch Danny stumble. "I tell myself he's going
to make something good out of himself," she says. "But it's hard to see
doors close and opportunities fall away."
What's wrong with Danny? By almost every benchmark, boys across
the nation and in every demographic group are falling behind. In
elementary school, boys are two times more likely than girls to be
diagnosed with learning disabilities and twice as likely to be placed
in special-education classes. High-school boys are losing ground to
girls on standardized writing tests. The number of boys who said they
didn't like school rose 71 percent between 1980 and 2001, according to
a University of Michigan study. Nowhere is the shift more evident than
on college campuses. Thirty years ago men represented 58 percent of the
undergraduate student body. Now they're a minority at 44 percent. This
widening achievement gap, says Margaret Spellings, U.S. secretary of
Education, "has profound implications for the economy, society,
families and democracy."
With millions of parents wringing their hands, educators are
searching for new tools to help tackle the problem of boys. Books
including Michael Thompson's best seller "Raising Cain" (recently made
into a PBS documentary) and Harvard psychologist William Pollack's
definitive work "Real Boys" have become must-reads in the teachers'
lounge. The Gurian Institute, founded in 1997 by family therapist
Michael Gurian to help the people on the front lines help boys, has
enrolled 15,000 teachers in its seminars. Even the Gates Foundation,
which in the last five years has given away nearly a billion dollars to
innovative high schools, is making boys a big priority. "Helping
underperforming boys," says Jim Shelton, the foundation's education
director, "has become part of our core mission."
The problem won't be solved overnight. In the last two decades,
the education system has become obsessed with a quantifiable and
narrowly defined kind of academic success, these experts say, and that
myopic view is harming boys. Boys are biologically, developmentally and
psychologically different from girls—and teachers need to learn
how to bring out the best in every one. "Very well-meaning people,"
says Dr. Bruce Perry, a Houston neurologist who advocates for troubled
kids, "have created a biologically disrespectful model of education."
Thirty years ago it was girls, not boys, who were lagging. The
1972 federal law Title IX forced schools to provide equal opportunities
for girls in the classroom and on the playing field. Over the next two
decades, billions of dollars were funneled into finding new ways to
help girls achieve. In 1992, the American Association of University
Women issued a report claiming that the work of Title IX was not
done—girls still fell behind in math and science; by the
mid-1990s, girls had reduced the gap in math and more girls than boys
were taking high-school-level biology and chemistry.
Some scholars, notably Christina Hoff Sommers, a fellow at the
American Enterprise Institute, charge that misguided feminism is what's
been hurting boys. In the 1990s, she says, girls were making strong,
steady progress toward parity in schools, but feminist educators
portrayed them as disadvantaged and lavished them with support and
attention. Boys, meanwhile, whose rates of achievement had begun
to falter, were ignored and their problems allowed to fester.
Boys have always been boys, but the expectations for how they're
supposed to act and learn in school have changed. In the last 10 years,
thanks in part to activist parents concerned about their children's
success, school performance has been measured in two simple ways: how
many students are enrolled in accelerated courses and whether test
scores stay high. Standardized assessments have become commonplace for
kids as young as 6. Curricula have become more rigid. Instead of
allowing teachers to instruct kids in the manner and pace that suit
each class, some states now tell teachers what, when and how to teach.
At the same time, student-teacher ratios have risen, physical education
and sports programs have been cut and recess is a distant memory. These
new pressures are undermining the strengths and underscoring the
limitations of what psychologists call the "boy brain"—the
kinetic, disorganized, maddening and sometimes brilliant behaviors that
scientists now believe are not learned but hard-wired.
When Cris Messler of Mountainside, N.J., brought her 3-year-old
son Sam to a pediatrician to get him checked for ADHD, she was
acknowledging the desperation parents can feel. He's a high-energy kid,
and Messler found herself hoping for a positive diagnosis. "If I could
get a diagnosis from the doctor, I could get him on medicine," she
says. The doctor said Sam is a normal boy. School has been tough,
though. Sam's reading teacher said he was hopeless. His first-grade
teacher complains he's antsy, and Sam, now 7, has been referring to
himself as "stupid." Messler's glad her son doesn't need medication,
but what, she wonders, can she do now to help her boy in school?
For many boys, the trouble starts as young as 5, when they bring
to kindergarten a set of physical and mental abilities very different
from girls'. As almost any parent knows, most 5-year-old girls are more
fluent than boys and can sight-read more words. Boys tend to have
better hand-eye coordination, but their fine motor skills are less
developed, making it a struggle for some to control a pencil or a
paintbrush. Boys are more impulsive than girls; even if they can sit
still, many prefer not to—at least not for long.
Thirty years ago feminists argued that classic "boy" behaviors
were a result of socialization, but these days scientists believe they
are an expression of male brain chemistry. Sometime in the first
trimester, a boy fetus begins producing male sex hormones that bathe
his brain in testosterone for the rest of his gestation. "That exposure
wires the male brain differently," says Arthur Arnold, professor of
physiological science at UCLA. How? Scientists aren't exactly sure. New
studies show that prenatal exposure to male sex hormones directly
affects the way children play. Girls whose mothers have high levels of
testosterone during pregnancy are more likely to prefer playing with
trucks to playing with dolls. There are also clues that hormones
influence the way we learn all through life. In a Dutch study published
in 1994, doctors found that when males were given female hormones,
their spatial skills dropped but their verbal skills improved.
In elementary-school classrooms—where teachers
increasingly put an emphasis on language and a premium on sitting
quietly and speaking in turn—the mismatch between boys and school
can become painfully obvious. "Girl behavior becomes the gold
standard," says "Raising Cain" coauthor Thompson. "Boys are treated
like defective girls."
Two years ago Kelley King, principal of Douglass Elementary
School in Boulder, Colo., looked at the gap between boys and girls and
decided to take action. Boys were lagging 10 points behind girls in
reading and 14 points in writing. Many more boys than girls were being
labeled as learning disabled, too. So King asked her teachers to buy
copies of Gurian's book "The Minds of Boys," on boy-friendly
classrooms, and in the fall of 2004 she launched a bold experiment.
Whenever possible, teachers replaced lecture time with fast-moving
lessons that all kids could enjoy. Three weeks ago, instead of
discussing the book "The View From Saturday," teacher Pam Unrau divided
her third graders into small groups, and one student in each group
pretended to be a character from the book. Classes are noisier, Unrau
says, but the boys are closing the gap. Last spring, Douglass girls
scored an average of 106 on state writing tests, while boys got a
respectable 101.
Primatologists have long observed that juvenile male chimps
battle each other not just for food and females, but to establish and
maintain their place in the hierarchy of the tribe. Primates face off
against each other rather than appear weak. That same evolutionary
imperative, psychologists say, can make it hard for boys to thrive in
middle school—and difficult for boys who are failing to accept
the help they need. The transition to middle school is rarely easy, but
like the juvenile primates they are, middle-school boys will do almost
anything to avoid admitting that they're overwhelmed. "Boys measure
everything they do or say by a single yardstick: does this make me look
weak?" says Thompson. "And if it does, he isn't going to do it." That's
part of the reason that videogames have such a powerful hold on boys:
the action is constant, they can calibrate just how hard the challenges
will be and, when they lose, the defeat is private.
When Brian Johns hit seventh grade, he never admitted how
vulnerable it made him feel. "I got behind and never caught up," says
Brian, now 17 and a senior at Grand River Academy, an Ohio boarding
school. When his parents tried to help, he rebuffed them. When
his mother, Anita, tried to help him organize his assignment book, he
grew evasive about when his homework was due. Anita didn't know where
to turn. Brian's school had a program for gifted kids, and support for
ones with special needs. But what, Anita asked his teachers, do they do
about kids like her son who are in the middle and
struggling? Those kids, one of Brian's teachers told Anita,
"are the ones who fall through the cracks."
It's easy for middle-school boys to feel outgunned. Girls reach
sexual maturity two years ahead of boys, but other, less visible
differences put boys at a disadvantage, too. The prefrontal cortex is a
knobby region of the brain directly behind the forehead that scientists
believe helps humans organize complex thoughts, control their impulses
and understand the consequences of their own behavior. In the last five
years, Dr. Jay Giedd, an expert in brain development at the National
Institutes of Health, has used brain scans to show that in girls, it
reaches its maximum thickness by the age of 11 and, for the next decade
or more, continues to mature. In boys, this process is delayed by 18
months.
Middle-school boys may use their brains less efficiently, too.
Using a type of MRI that traces activity in the brain, Deborah
Yurgelun-Todd, director of the cognitive neuroimaging laboratory at
McLean Hospital in Belmont, Mass., tested the activity patterns in the
prefrontal cortex of children between the ages of 11 and 18. When shown
pictures of fearful faces, adolescent girls registered activity on the
right side of the prefrontal cortex, similar to an adult. Adolescent
boys used both sides—a less mature pattern of brain activity.
Teenage girls can process information faster, too. In a study about to
be published in the journal Intelligence, researchers at Vanderbilt
University administered timed tests—picking similar objects and
matching groups of numbers—to 8,000 boys and girls between the
ages of 5 and 18. In kindergarten, boys and girls processed information
at about the same speeds. In early adolescence, girls finished faster
and got more right. By 18, boys and girls were processing with the same
speed and accuracy.
Scientists caution that brain research doesn't tell the whole
story: temperament, family background and environment play big roles,
too. Some boys are every bit as organized and assertive as the
highest-achieving girls. All kids can be scarred by violence, alcohol
or drugs in the family. But if your brain hasn't reached maturity yet,
says Yurgelun-Todd, "it's not going to be able to do its job optimally."
Across the nation, educators are reviving an old idea: separate
the girls from the boys—and at Roncalli Middle School, in Pueblo,
Colo., administrators say, it's helping kids of both genders. This past
fall, with the blessing of parents, school guidance counselor Mike
Horton assigned a random group of 50 sixth graders to single-sex
classes in core subjects. These days, when sixth-grade science
teacher Pat Farrell assigns an earth-science lab on measuring crystals,
the girls collect their materials—a Bunsen burner, a beaker of
phenyl salicylate and a spoon. Then they read the directions and follow
the sequence from beginning to end. The first things boys do is ask,
"Can we eat this?" They're less organized, Farrell notes, but
sometimes, "they're willing to go beyond what the lab asks them to do."
With this in mind, he hands out written instructions to both classes
but now goes over them step by step for the boys. Although it's too
soon to declare victory, there are some positive signs: the shyest boys
are participating more. This fall, the all-girl class did best in math,
English and science, followed by the all-boy class and then coed
classes.
One of the most reliable predictors of whether a boy will
succeed or fail in high school rests on a single question: does he have
a man in his life to look up to? Too often, the answer is no. High
rates of divorce and single motherhood have created a generation of
fatherless boys. In every kind of neighborhood, rich or poor, an
increasing number of boys—now a startling 40 percent—are
being raised without their biological dads.
{ To bad nobody listened to (late Senator) Patrick Moynihan in
the 1960’s when he was trying to get people’s attention on
the plight of the black family. Sadly there seems to be a correlation
between the plight of the black community and the white community with
generally a 3 to 10 year lead-lag timeframe, which on rare occasions
stretches out to approximately 25 years.
For example the rate of out of wedlock children in the black
community by 1970 was around 37.5 percent and generally ignored (in
1998 it was 69%). When the white community reached 25 percent of out of
wedlock children in 1995, leadership started thinking there might be a
problem that needed to be addressed. There was a problem in 1970 it
just didn’t seem to concern main-stream white communities until
out of wedlock children reached 25 percent in white families.
}Added by editor scaryreality.com
Psychologists say that grandfathers and uncles can help, but
emphasize that an adolescent boy without a father figure is like an
explorer without a map. And that is especially true for poor boys and
boys who are struggling in school. Older males, says Gurian, model
self-restraint and solid work habits for younger ones. And whether
they're breathing down their necks about grades or admonishing them to
show up for school on time, "an older man reminds a boy in a million
different ways that school is crucial to their mission in life."
In the past, boys had many opportunities to learn from older
men. They might have been paired with a tutor, apprenticed to a master
or put to work in the family store. High schools offered boys a rich
array of roles in which to exercise leadership skills—class
officer, yearbook editor or a place on the debate team. These days,
with the exception of sports, more girls than boys are involved in
those activities.
In neighborhoods where fathers are most scarce, the high-school
dropout rates are shocking: more than half of African-American boys who
start high school don't finish. David Banks, principal of
the Eagle Academy for Young Men, one of four all-boy public high
schools in the New York City system, wants each of his 180 students not
only to graduate from high school but to enroll in college. And he's
leaving nothing to chance. Almost every Eagle Academy boy
has a male mentor—a lawyer, a police officer or an entrepreneur
from the school's South Bronx neighborhood. The impact of the mentoring
program, says Banks, has been "beyond profound." Tenth grader Rafael
Mendez is unequivocal: his mentor "is the best thing that ever happened
to me." Before Rafael came to Eagle Academy, he dreamed about playing
pro baseball, but his mentor, Bronx Assistant District Attorney Rafael
Curbelo, has shown him another way to succeed: Mendez is thinking about
attending college in order to study forensic science.
Colleges would welcome more applications from young men like
Rafael Mendez. At many state universities the gender balance is already
tilting 60-40 toward women. Primary and secondary schools are going to
have to make some major changes, says Ange Peterson, president-elect of
the American Association of Collegiate Registrars and Admissions
Officers, to restore the gender balance. "There's a whole group of men
we're losing in education completely," says Peterson.
For Nikolas Arnold, 15, a sophomore at a public high school in
Santa Monica, Calif., college is a distant dream. Nikolas is smart:
he's got an encyclopedic knowledge of weaponry and war. When he was in
first grade, his principal told his mother he was too immature and
needed ADHD drugs. His mother balked. "Too immature?" says Diane
Arnold, a widow. "He was six and a half!" He's always been an advanced
reader, but his grades are erratic. Last semester, when his English
teacher assigned two girls' favorites—"Memoirs of a Geisha" and
"The Secret Life of Bees" Nikolas got a D. But lately, he has a math
teacher he likes and is getting excited about numbers. He's reserved in
class sometimes. But now that he's more engaged, his grades are
improving slightly and his mother, who's pushing college, is hopeful he
will begin to hit his stride. Girls get A's and B's on their report
cards, she tells him, but that doesn't mean boys can't do it, too.
With Andrew Murr, Vanessa Juarez, Anne Underwood, Karen Springen and Pat Wingert
© 2006 Newsweek, Inc.