At the time, I thought that Shreya's question, "What do you do for maths?" was a mere reflection of her own mathematical inclinations. But I was wrong. As I became more settled in Singapore, I began hanging out with lots of other Indian mums.

All of us were concerned about our kids' social, emotional, physical, and cognitive development. Often we'd discuss what kinds of activities we did with our kids, and invariably, during these conversations, I would find myself faced with the question, "And what do you do for maths?" I realised that this was in no way unique to Shreya.

As my social network began to expand, I met many Chinese-Singaporean mothers, and I found that many of these mothers, too, were fairly obsessed with this very same question: and what do you do for maths?

Mothers here seemed to believe that strong maths foundations must be built in the first 10 years of a child's life. At one birthday party, I found myself talking to two Chinese-Singaporean mothers while our kids watched a magician take silk handkerchiefs out of his ears.

Our entire conversation revolved around helping our (very young) children develop strong maths foundations. What kinds of activities work? What kinds of curricula and maths enrichment? Should kids attend after-school classes at centres like Kumon or Abacus, or should they focus on Singapore maths workbooks at home?

Parents are encouraged to play chess with their kids; it encourages strategic thinking. Here, a scene from the 2015 Brisbane Ultimate Chess Battle. Amy Mitchell-Whittington

I was honestly surprised. In the United States, where I had been a teacher, early childhood and elementary education focuses largely on language and social skills. As an avid reader of American books on education and parenting, I had found vast quantities of material on language development and the need to raise children in a "print-rich, language-rich environment", but little or no mention of early maths skills.

Similarly, in my many conversations with American mothers and colleagues, the question of maths rarely came up, and not once in America was I ever asked what I did for maths.


Asian faces

Around the same time that I was becoming increasingly familiar with the Asian-mum obsession with maths, I happened to supervise some exams at the international school where I taught in Singapore. At one point, I was overseeing the "Additional (Advanced) Math" exam, which was taken by mathematically precocious ninth graders. These kids were in the top 15 per cent of their class for maths, so they took the International General Certificate of Secondary Education (IGCSE) maths exam at the end of the ninth grade instead of waiting until the end of the 10th grade. As I paced up and down the aisles of the spacious exam hall, I noticed that every face was Asian.

I knew all the stereotypes surrounding Asian kids and maths. When I was growing up in Chennai, there was always an aura around maths and science. That was what the smart kids did. Yet I hadn't really thought about the roots of these trends until I landed in Singapore and began interacting with Indian and Chinese mothers who cared so deeply about their children's maths education.

Maths and physical sciences research contributed 22 per cent of Australia's GDP, when flow-on impacts were included. iStock

In an interesting conversation with Clarinda Choh, head of the gifted education program at Hwa Chong Institution in Singapore, I learned that the top students there overwhelmingly choose STEM subjects and tracks over others. Similarly, as I investigated Singapore's local school curriculum, I noticed that at the primary level, the core (tested) subjects include English, maths, "mother tongue", and science, but not the humanities and arts.

Who's winning the contests?

I began to research numerous statistics about Asians and maths: which kids make the final cut in the prestigious Intel science competitions that reward kids for their original scientific inventions? Who are the people getting PhDs in STEM fields in America? In international schools and American schools, which kids are participating in maths and science competitions? Which countries are topping the charts in maths and science tests?

In the 2013 Intel Science Talent Search held in America, exactly 50 per cent of the 40 finalists had either an east Asian or south Asian last name. Three of the top 10 winners were Asian. In the 2014 Intel Search, 57 per cent of the finalists had either an east Asian or south Asian name. These numbers were similar in previous years as well.


In the last decade, roughly half of the finalists and semi-finalists in this competition have been Asian-American kids. Given that in 2013, according to the US Census Bureau, only 5.1 per cent of Americans identified themselves as completely Asian, the high Asian success rates in the Intel Science Talent Search are surprising.

Building blocks of all kinds enhance visual-spatial skills and maths ability. But gender bias in the West means girls are more likely to receive "girlie" gifts like jewellery than a Lego set, for example. Getty Images

American engineering schools tend to attract a disproportionate number of Asian students from India and China, often alarming American educators and fuelling debates on why American students don't want to pursue STEM degrees like their foreign counterparts.

The Gladwell theory

Unsurprisingly, this phenomenon does not just apply within America; it's true on a global scale. As the PISA (Program for International Student Assessment, a test administered to 15-year olds in 65 countries) tests routinely demonstrate, east Asian nations outperform the rest of the world on maths tests by a significant margin. In the most recent PISA test (2012), Shanghai topped the charts for maths with a score of 613, and Singapore came in second with 573. (In comparison, Australia scored 504 - placing 19th, Britain 494 - 26th, and the US scored 481 - 36th.)

China routinely wins top place in the International Mathematical Olympiads. These successes extend beyond high school; Asians are now earning an increasing number of PhDs in STEM fields, and East Asian nations are pumping money and resources into scientific research.

So everyone seems aware of how well Asian students in Asia, as well as Asian-Americans, are doing in maths. But why is this the case? The most popular explanation is the one posited by Malcolm Gladwell in his popular book Outliers: The Chinese do well in maths because their number system is easier and more intuitive, and because they have developed a strong work ethic as a result of their history cultivating rice.

Maths teaching is vitally important to the growth and productivity of Australia but too many kids aren't pushed hard enough by parents to do it. Supplied


In his book The Number Sense, neuroscientist Stanislas Dehaene describes "the cost of speaking English". He explains how English number names are not only longer but also more difficult than their Chinese counterparts. Chinese number words can be uttered in less than one-quarter of a second, while the English equivalents take about one-third of a second. This enables Chinese speakers to hold far more digits in their memories at once. (No wonder they're great at mental maths.) Furthermore, the number system in English is highly irregular. In contrast, East Asians have a logical counting system. Eleven is ten-one. Twelve is ten-two. Twenty-four is two-tens-four and so on.

Added advantage

Chinese, Korean, and Japanese speakers have the added advantage of developing better visual-spatial skills and concentration as they learn the thousands of complex characters one needs to know to be literate in these languages.

However, this still doesn't explain why so many Asian-Americans or Singaporean kids (of Chinese, Indian, and Malay backgrounds) do so well at maths: most of them speak English as a first language, and they think in English. So the difference in number systems shouldn't matter.

Many American educators and parents believe American "reform math" programs like Investigations and Everyday Math are not as systematic and mastery-oriented as Asian programs. These American programs encourage students to "discover" maths for themselves and "construct their own understanding of mathematical concepts," and they often marginalise or ignore standard algorithms.

Unlike Asian maths programs, which combine hands-on activities with direct instruction and lots of drill and practice, contemporary American programs devalue practice and precision in favour of "discovery and exploration".

Asians talk less, do more

Furthermore, critics of American maths curriculums point to the tremendous emphasis placed on language, as students are expected to explain steps and discuss different strategies to solve problems. In contrast, Singaporean students are expected to use number sentences, draw mathematical models, show their work, and solve the problems, but they are rarely asked to explain or discuss maths problems in great detail.


The assumption in Singapore is that if students can solve a range of problems correctly, they understand the concepts. Furthermore, Asian programs tend to have more rigour and depth to them.

Singapore maths problems tend to involve more steps and harder calculations, and they stick with one topic for far longer. In fact, some of the word problems (or problem sums, as they are widely known here) in Singapore maths books are astoundingly difficult, as they require tremendous conceptual thought.

Young students at a coaching service, Shichida, who are learning maths at the age of three. Eddie Jim

Deeper motivation

So more rigorous maths curricula at school, combined with a challenging exam system, could be part of the reason for Asian kids' success in maths, but I still wasn't convinced.

A lot of the Asian kids that I worked with had attended international schools that used Western curricula, and they still excelled at maths. And what about all those Asian-American kids? They obviously attend American schools and follow American curricula, yet they tend to do well in maths.

The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that the superior performance of many Asian kids in maths and science has less to do with Chinese number systems or Asian school curricula and more to do with the families and cultures in which these kids grow up.

Let's start with some major qualifiers. Generalising about Asian mothers, or even just Singaporean mothers, is utterly ludicrous. With a population of over 4 billion, Asia is astoundingly diverse in every way possible. Singapore, though it's a tiny island with a population of approximately 5.4 million, is still far too big and diverse to generalise about. However, even with my limited sample of parents, definite patterns began to emerge.


The first 10 years

To begin with, the mothers I encountered genuinely believed that maths is very important. This may sound insignificant, but it's not. When I lived in the US, I didn't hear parents constantly talk about maths. And even in Singapore, I rarely hear Western expats talking about maths the way that Asians do.

When a community values something deeply, it diverts resources and energy toward that thing. In numerous informal conversations, mothers described the importance they attached to maths. They also said that they communicate this value to their children very explicitly, so their kids also believe that maths is extremely important. Moreover, they believe strongly that when it comes to maths, the first 10 years of a child's life are critical.

As Laura Tan, a Chinese Singaporean mother, said, "I believe strongly in foundations. If kids have strong foundations, then later learning will be much easier."

Foundations critical

I met with a group of Chinese teachers at the school where I work. One of them, who has a young child of her own, said earnestly, "We start our children on maths very early, and we provide a lot of rigorous maths instruction in the early years. With strong basics, everything else will fall into place."

The other teachers nodded: foundations are critical.

One afternoon, I found myself sitting in an elegant living room, sipping tea and eating homemade bhel puri with four Indian mothers who had children ranging in age from four to 14. These ladies had agreed to speak with me about parenting and maths, and one of them hosted the group in her house. The discussion was rich with insights, and occasionally with disagreements.


One mother spoke passionately about how frustrated she had been in high school in India because she found maths baffling. She eventually dropped it. Another mother insisted that one can never "drop maths" because it is everywhere. She told a story about her brother, who found himself doing more maths than he had bargained for even though he had a non-maths job in the Indian army.

Another mother described how her daughter, who was not naturally talented in maths, came home one day and announced that she had finally made it into the accelerated maths group. Despite thinking that she should feel jubilant at the news, the mother actually felt bad, because she realised how much pressure her daughter had felt.

Maths as an open sesame

But one thing all the mothers agreed on was that maths was important. When I asked why, here are some of the reasons they gave: maths teaches kids to think logically and systematically; STEM fields hire more Asians and pay better than other fields; maths gives kids access to a whole host of lucrative job opportunities, from engineering and astrophysics to investment banking, molecular biology, and medicine.

Maths is the "critical filter" that decides who has access to higher-paying and more easily available jobs; maths is a universal language; everyone is equal at the maths table, because it is objective and value-neutral.

In this sense, maths is a fair game, open to all, regardless of a person's culture or background. Maths rewards effort more than any other subject.

Mothers commented on the precision, logic, and objectivity of maths, saying that there is a "right answer" for each maths problem; if a student studies and practises maths enough, she will internalise mathematical logic, master the required procedures, and be able to solve the problem.

Maths is a "scoring subject"; it's easy for kids to score high grades on a maths test. Pretty much every mum I spoke with did some amount of supplementary maths with her elementary school children – either they send their kids to after-school enrichment classes like those run by Kumon or Abacus, or they sit down with their kids and work through maths workbooks.


Of the 40 mothers I formally interviewed, a third do both.

Key to surrounding world

One of the first friends I made when I arrived in Singapore was Priya, a software engineer from Mumbai who had given up full-time work to raise her two sons. Priya and her husband, both engineers who see the world through scientific eyes, are raising their children in a highly mathematical and scientific home.

When I asked Priya about her strong bias, she replied that both she and her husband believe that maths and science are crucial for the 21st century. "Kids who understand maths and science understand the highly scientific and technological world we live in… I want my kids to be able to understand the world they live in and navigate it successfully," she said.

I had to agree with her. In the 21st century, many of us inhabit a highly advanced technological world full of machines that we don't really understand, and our lives and lifestyles are entirely dependent on the scientists, engineers, and technicians who design, make, and fix our machines.

Priya is right. Even if your child has absolutely no intention of becoming an engineer or a scientist, maths and science are the basis of the modern world, and feeling comfortable and empowered in this high-tech world demands a sound understanding of its mathematical and scientific foundation.

As I talked to Priya in greater detail about what she did with her boys, I realised that she integrated maths and science into the fabric of daily life in a number of ways. In the US, I had read over and over again about the importance of creating a print-and language-rich home for children, but here in Asia, I began to see many mothers working hard to create a mathematically rich home for their children.

There are sums everywhere


Mothers like Priya talked to their kids about numbers, shapes, and patterns from the get-go. They played maths games when they were in the car or at the dinner table (guess the number, solve the mathematical riddle, add up the numbers on licence plates as quickly as possible, calculate distance travelled, etc.). They taught their kids chess.

They spent money and time on Lego sets, building blocks, tangrams, jigsaw puzzles, and board games. When they took the kids to the grocery store, they talked maths: "If one apple costs 80¢, how much will six apples cost?" When they rode the elevator, they talked maths: "Look, we're riding up and down a number line. If we're on the fifth floor now, how many more floors till we get to the 11th floor?"

I asked Lara, a Singaporean chartered accountant with a maths-inclined son, how she had managed to raise a child who so clearly loved maths.

"What really matters is that I get him to notice the maths that exists all around us," she replied. "When we go to the playground, for example, I ask him what he sees, and we talk about shapes and patterns. I'll point out an isosceles triangle to him, or we'll look at the shapes and patterns on the jungle gym.

"While kids need to know their numbers and be good at mental maths, the fact is that when they are older they will all be using calculators to deal with numbers. The more important thing is to make sure that they understand how to think logically, how to approach problems, how to see the maths that is all around them."

The trouble with fun

Most of the Asian mothers I know also set to work making sure that their kids learned maths early. Asian mothers – both south Asian and east Asian – love maths workbooks. Unlike many Westerners who shun workbooks, claiming that too many drills will kill a child's love of learning, Asian mothers, in my experience, adore them. They gain great satisfaction from watching their young children complete good old-fashioned drills.

In addition to workbooks, many Asian mothers encourage their kids to do online maths games and maths' drills. When I first arrived in Singapore, local mums introduced me to stores that specialised in academic workbooks. Additionally, at certain special stores on the island, parents can purchase "past maths exam papers" from some of Singapore's top schools.


In Singapore, at the primary level, kids have to take a 90-minute maths exam at the end of each semester. These exams are not for the faint-hearted; they include a wide range of conceptually and procedurally rigorous problems. These practice exams, claim the mothers, not only help kids become mathematically proficient but also teach them how to focus and concentrate for extended periods of time.

(In contrast, Western schools of education tell parents and teachers to cater to children's diminishing attention spans by making all learning activities "fun" and "short".)

The fear of killing a child's love of learning by drilling her too much does not exist in Singapore, and I suspect this fear is unfounded. When I asked one Singaporean maths educator if he uses the phrase "drill and kill", he responded, "No, we say that a certain amount of 'drill and grill' is necessary."

As these kids get better and better at maths, they don't hate or fear it. In fact, maths immersion seems to have the opposite effect. Just as kids who read a lot develop a love of reading, it seems to me that many kids who do a lot of maths develop a love of maths.

Weakness equals dislike

The Asian mothers I spoke with made comments such as, "If a child is weak at a subject, then he or she will naturally dislike it. If you want your child to enjoy a subject, you have to first help him or her become competent in it. We all like what we understand and are good at."

I've seen that over and over again at the school where I work. I come in to class, ready to start discussing poetry, and huddled around a desk is a group of maths-oriented boys. (Unfortunately, these groups tend to be male; the gender inequity in higher-level maths classes, though less acute in east Asia than in the west, is another story altogether.) They are arguing with each other in animated voices, making notes on a piece of paper as they talk.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, interrupting their conversation in an effort to get my class started. "Sorry, Ms T, we're talking about a maths problem," they reply, showing me their books. That's not maths-phobia and maths-hatred. That's maths-love and maths-pride.


I've seen the same phenomenon with my own children. The only way to reach the more satisfying mastery stage is to first wade through that difficult and frustrating learning stage and then engage in substantial hours of practice. Shielding children from the frustration and challenge (and sometimes tedium) of learning and practicing new concepts won't make them hate maths less; it will, conversely, make them hate maths more.

What maths ability predicts

If it were drills that created maths phobias, Asian kids would be intensely maths-phobic, which they clearly aren't.

And while popular Western books on parenting and early childhood marginalise or ignore the importance of maths, academic studies on early maths reveal that it is just as important as early literacy. According to a recent study published in the Columbia University Teachers' College Record, researchers Amy Claessens of the University of Chicago and Mimi Engels of Vanderbilt University found that early mathematics knowledge and skills are the most important predictors not only of later maths achievement in school, but also for achievement in other content areas (reading and science) and grade retention.

They go on to discuss research that shows how jigsaw puzzles and other spatial activities can improve mathematical thinking in early childhood. Susan Levine, a psychologist at the University of Chicago, has done studies that conclude that maths skill at kindergarten entry is an even stronger predictor of later school achievement than reading skills or the ability to pay attention.

Doing extra maths sounds perfectly easy, but how does a parent make a young child sit down for half-an-hour and work on word problems when she would rather be doing something else? I began informally discussing these issues with my Indian and Chinese friends, and their answers to my questions reminded me that all of us parents are products of our cultures, and we live and breathe the parenting messages that permeate our cultures.

These messages and scripts pervade our social interactions, the language of our schools, and the public messages in the media. They seep deep into our skin and bones in a way that makes them feel absolutely normal and right.

Like the water that a fish swims in, the culture we live and parent in envelops and sustains us; it is virtually impossible for us to examine that culture objectively when we are swimming in it.


Guilt?

American parents and educators are told to give children choices, to respect their desires, to ask them questions as opposed to issuing orders, to refrain from pressuring or coercing them to do work they don't want to do, and to offer positive reinforcement all the time. Children are supposed to want to do the work – otherwise, they shouldn't have to do it.

In contrast, the scripts that Asian culture offers its parents include statements, not questions, and orders, not requests. Children are routinely told what to do, and particularly when it comes to academic work, parents and educators don't spend much time asking them what they want or catering to those desires.

In some of my interviews with mothers, I asked whether they ever felt guilty about making their children do extra academic work. My question was often received with absolute bewilderment. As one mother said, "But I feel I am doing my duty when I make my daughter study hard, because then I know that I am helping her learn and succeed. It's when I don't make my child do extra work that I feel terribly guilty."

This is an edited extract from Beyond The Tiger Mom by Maya Thiagarajan, Tuttle Books, published in Australia by New South Books, $24.99.

GIRLS NEED LEGO

Most students who excel in higher-level maths and science also have good visual-spatial abilities; that is, the ability to understand shapes and manipulate objects in their minds. These skills are necessary to succeed in more abstract maths and physics. Research suggests that visual-spatial skills can be improved significantly with deliberate practice. In her 2009 book Pink Brain, Blue Brain, neuroscientist Lise Eliot concludes that much of the difference between boys and girls is the boys' greater exposure to activities that build spatial skills.

I see this bias all the time. My young son gets Lego sets as birthday presents from his friends. In contrast, my daughter gets crayons, play-jewellery, and craft kits from her friends, and none of them has ever suggested Legos as a play option.


There's an easy solution to this: parents can buy Legos for their daughters, play blocks and tangrams with them, and sign them up for robotics classes.

HOW TO BUILD A MATHS-RICH HOME

Play board games such as Snakes 'n' Ladders, Yahtzee, and Monopoly.

Invent and play games with dice - roll three dice and add the numbers, find the difference.

Play card games of all kinds.

Use an abacus.

When you're in the car, play number games.


Have kids play games that require strategy, such as Connect Four, Risk, and backgammon.

Play chess—it's an excellent game for strategising.

Give kids interesting word problems and maths puzzles to solve.

Have kids write their own maths problems.

Get kids to identify and extend patterns (numbers, shapes, words, etc).

Have kids play online maths games. There are many good ones, such as Math Blaster (www. knowledgeadventure.com) and Icecream Truck Math (www.sunburst.com), which kids might enjoy.


Give kids blocks, Legos, K'Nex, and any other building activity that involves manipulating objects.

Let kids play Tetris (great online game for understanding how shapes fit together).

Have kids play building games like Blik Blok.

Work on origami with your kids.

Encourage craft activities that involve shapes and building (using recycled material to build a boat or a house, for example).

Encourage kids to notice patterns in the world around you: in nature, in architecture, in art.

Encourage kids to try digital photography.

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