Yanwen’s blog

Recently, I came across a book titled Einstein Never Used Flash Cards: How Our Children Really Learn—and Why They Need to Play More and Memorize Less by Kathy Hirsh-Pasek and Roberta Michnick Golinkoff (2004). The core message is clear: rote memorization, early academic drills, and flash-card routines often do more harm than good for young children. What children truly need is unstructured play, free-style exploration, and interaction—these are the building blocks of cognitive, emotional, and social development.

What struck me most was this: the book confirmed that I had gotten many things wrong as a parent.

I didn’t realize, back then, that play is not a distraction from learning—it is learning and the best way to learn. I used to believe that educational success came from structure, discipline, and early academic head starts. So I pushed my children toward “productive” activities. Even with toys, I encouraged “educational” toys, and steered them away from aimless play. Looking back now, I see how little room there was for joy without a purpose.

This pattern isn't unique to me. In today’s early childhood education, free play—the kind done purely for fun—has become rare. From as early as two or three, many parents begin enrolling their kids in a flurry of classes, hoping they’ll gain a competitive edge, fearing the kids will fall behind if they don't. Even toys must come with the promise of “brain development.” A game must teach math, vocabulary, or logic. Otherwise, it’s considered a waste of time.

Like many anxious parents, I was afraid that if I let my children just play, they would miss out on something crucial. But I never paused to ask: what science supports this early push? What proof is there that early reading, memorization, or math drills actually help long-term development? I suspect most parents don’t know either. We’re just afraid to be the only ones not doing enough.

This book challenges all that—with research, not just opinion.

One experiment compared two groups of mice: one raised in a cage filled with toys, and another in the wild. Surprisingly, the mice raised in free nature—not the toy-filled cages—developed more brain synapses. Why? Because they faced real-world complexity: spiders, wildcats, choosing leaders, grooming, mates and social play. These rich sensory experiences naturally stimulated brain growth. No artificial “brain boosters” required.

I also used to believe that more synapses meant better learning. But the human brain, like other biological systems, thrives not on more, but on efficient organization. Disorganized synaptic growth can overwhelm the neural system and harm development. Each synapse can only process so much. Overstimulating infants with too many inputs—however “educational”—may actually lead to neural crowding rather than enrichment.

Einstein, the book points out, wasn’t subjected to early academic pressure. He was allowed to grow without overcrowding his developing brain. That space, paradoxically, helped set the stage for his intellectual breakthroughs later.

The Role of Play

Play is to a child what gasoline is to a car—it is the fuel of learning.

What matters isn’t the game itself, but whether the child is engaged and joyful. Whether they’re stacking blocks or pretending to be dragons, the key is that they choose it. Their curiosity, not our checklist, should lead the way.

When parents play with their children, their role isn’t to direct but to observe: What lights up their child? What are they drawn to? What new skill are they working on? The parent’s job is to notice those small moments—and gently help them stretch just a little further.

But I Didn’t Get Everything Wrong

Of course, I didn’t get everything wrong. Looking back, there are things I’m proud of. I spent a lot of time talking with my children—really talking to them as if they understood, even when they were very young. According to the authors, this kind of rich, responsive conversation helps build vocabulary, comprehension, and cognitive flexibility.

I also read books with them regularly, which nurtured not only their language and attention span but also our emotional connection. And I made sure to engage them in the kinds of interactions that develop self-control and social skills—like role-playing, turn-taking, negotiating disagreements, practicing empathy, and learning how to be part of a team.

Parenting with Less—and Better

Being a good parent is never easy. One moment of overcorrection, one missed opportunity, and we start wondering if we’ve done lasting damage. But this book reminds me: raising children doesn’t follow absolute rules—not even relative ones. There’s only one guiding principle that seems to hold up across the research and common sense alike: Less is often more.

The most enlightened way to raise a child isn’t to constantly “shift into a higher gear,” but to know when to slow down—or even coast for a while. Come to think of it, that’s probably good advice for adults too.

If we want to reach our goals, one of the most valuable skills we need is the ability to manage our time effectively. But real time management isn’t just about calendars and checklists—it’s about making strategic choices, learning to prioritize what truly matters, gaining control over how we spend our energy, and investing our time where it yields the highest long-term return.

To that end, here are three keys about time management:

1. Allocating time to what truly matters.

2. Your ability to control your own time.

3. Maximize the value of each hour spent.

This framework becomes even more powerful when paired with the Four-Quadrant Rule of time management, a simple but profound tool that helps us identify how to best use our time.

The Four Quadrants of Time

Every task or activity we face can be sorted into one of four categories:

• Important and Urgent

• Important but Not Urgent

• Urgent but Not Important

• Not Urgent and Not Important

Note: “Important” refers to whether activities helps you grow as a person. Even if a task is mandatory or urgent, if it doesn’t contribute to your long-term development, it’s not truly important.

Let’s look at what each quadrant teaches us.

1. Eliminate the Trivial--Not Urgent and Not Important

Step one: become aware of and eliminate activities that are neither urgent nor important, that is, pure time-wasters. This includes things like aimlessly scrolling on your phone or engaging in meaningless socializing. Many people complain that they don’t have time, yet still spend hours each day on these distractions.

2. Invest in What Matters in the Long Run

Step two, the important but not urgent tasks are where the magic happens. This includes activities like reading, learning, exercising, skill-enhancing and building long-term relationships. These actions yield the highest returns over time. They require discipline, persistence, and what ancient thinkers called "绵力" (a soft, sustained force).

3. Plan Ahead to Avoid Crisis

The important and urgent category often includes tasks we let slide until the last minute—a project we procrastinated on, or an unexpected deadline. While some emergencies are unavoidable, many arise from a lack of planning or procrastination. If we prepare in advance, these tasks become manageable routines, not last-minute crises.

4. Delegate the Noise

Last, urgent but not important tasks are best handled by others. Ordering food or calling a car may be necessary, but they don’t contribute to personal growth. They don't make you smart and better. Delegating these tasks—or spending some money to save time—allows you to focus on what really matters in life.

Common Pitfalls and How to Break the Cycle

Most people fall into the trap of constantly reacting to what’s urgent and important. By day’s end, they’re physically and mentally exhausted and are too weak to resist the temptation of trivial distractions. This creates a vicious cycle: high stress, followed by low-value relaxation.

To break the cycle, start with awareness and avoid procrastination. Eliminate nonessential distractions, then reinvest that time into activities that help you grow in the long run.

For example, instead of procrastinating on writing until a deadline threatens, finish the task early and preserve your energy. This boosts your sense of control, making it easier to resist time-wasting activities and invest in your own development.

Eventually, you’ll notice a shift: less urgent tasks, trivial distractions losing their appeal. Your calendar fills with things that are important but not urgent. This shift is the key to personal and professional growth.

Remember:

• Plan ahead to reduce emergencies.

• Stay away from low-value distractions.

• Invest your best hours in high-return tasks.

• Delegate the non-important tasks when you can.

"Spend money to save time." It’s one of the best investments you’ll ever make. Mastering your time means mastering your life.

This post is dedicated to my students and myself.

Tuesday, June, 24, 2025

There are so many things I’d like to write about, but something unexpected happened yesterday—and lingered into today—that I feel compelled to let out.

On Sunday, I received a text from our electricity provider:

“ConEd Alert: A heatwave is on the way this week. We'll be working 24/7 to keep service reliable. You can help by limiting your energy use between 2 and 10 pm. If you do lose power, reply OUT to get updates…”

The next morning, Monday, I drove to the YMCA for my daily swim. It was already hot and humid, and I was looking forward to cooling off in the pool. But something felt off as I pulled into the parking lot: a cluster of ConEd trucks, a few staff cars.

Inside, I learned: IMPORTANT NOTICE (June 23, 2025) The Cross Island Y is currently experiencing power outages throughout the building due to the heat wave. Both pools are currently closed as we work with Con Edison to fully restore power.

Today, hoping the issue might be resolved, I checked online to make sure—only to find the pool was still closed. Reopening date: To Be Determined.

On any ordinary day, the YMCA is full of life—people exercising, children laughing, seniors chatting. During a heatwave, it becomes more than just a gym; it's a refuge. A place where vulnerable members of the community, especially the elderly, come to stay active, social and safe.

And yet, here we are—power outages in one of the world’s wealthiest cities, not because of a hurricane or natural disaster, but simply because it’s hot.

Whenever there’s extreme weather—scorching heat or bitter cold—we get text alerts from the power company asking us to limit energy use. We sincerely follow the advice. And still, the grid falters. It makes me wonder: how can a country that spends billions and billions on foreign wars fall short on something so basic as keeping the lights on and the air conditioning running when heat hit?

In a democracy, shouldn't people have more say in where their tax dollars go?

These small everyday disruptions remind me of the fragility of the systems we depend on. And they raise questions not just about electricity or infrastructure, but about priorities, justice, and the definition of good governance.

A real story I need to tell today.

Our recent alumni gathering in New York was the result of months of effort from a team of dedicated volunteers. But despite our best intentions, turnout was lower than expected. This led us to reflect: What makes people choose to show up? What would make these events feel more alive, more relevant—and ultimately, more meaningful?

The answer may lie not in better logistics, but in re-presenting the purpose of alumni events as reflecting on who we’ve become, and further imagine who we’re still becoming.

What We’re Really Looking For

In today’s fast-paced, fragmented world, people show up when something speaks to their deeper needs—emotional, intellectual, or existential. Loyalty and past shared experience alone no longer suffice.

What people seek now is relevance, usefulness, and resonance. Whether consciously or not, they often ask themselves: “What will I gain from being there? How will this enrich my life?” If they don't see clear direct benefit to them, they simply choose not to go.

Therefore, we might begin by asking: What can we offer them? 

-- A space to pause and reflect on the meaning of their journey

-- A chance to share life stories that shaped them and have them published

-- A moment of reconnection—not just with old friends, but with forgotten parts of themselves and with new friends

-- A reminder that even as time moves on, some ties remain 

And ultimately, an alumni association offers something rare: a sense of belonging. These gatherings remind us that we still share a common denominator—a place where we are known, welcomed, and understood.

Practical Ideas for Future Gatherings

Here are a few low-cost, high-impact ways to cultivate that sense of presence and purpose:

1. Alumni Story Circle Project

Invite alumni to share stories—moments of transformation, unexpected turns, triumphs, or even humorous detours. Whether light-hearted or profound, stories humanize us. And in hearing others, we often hear echoes of ourselves.

Later, these stories can be collected and published—perhaps titled “Letters to My Younger Self”—offering wisdom, perspective, connection and legacy across generations.

2. Memory Table

Set up a table with old photos, handwritten memories, or a “what I wish I had known then” wall.

3. Friendly Games or Contests

Light-hearted activities lower the barrier to connection:

-- Guess Who? Baby photo challenge

-- Two Truths and a Lie icebreaker

-- BISU Trivia to stir collective memory and laughter

4. Mini Workshops, Panels, or Roundtable Talks

Offer something people can take home: insights on parenting, finance, midlife transition, brain health, or retirement. When content is relevant, gatherings become enriching—not just entertaining.

5. Purpose-Driven Focus

Anchor the gathering in a cause: fundraising for a classmate in need, building a mentorship network and volunteer services, or launching a legacy project. When there’s meaning behind the meeting, people come not just to attend—but to contribute.

6. Get More People Involved in Preparation

Even before the event begins, the process of preparing together builds bonds. Those involved are more likely to show up for the event. The more alumni who take part in planning and preparing—even in small ways—the stronger the sense of ownership, excitement, and turnout.

7. Learn from the Experiences of Successful Alumni Associations...

8. Set up Special Outreach Taskforce to Mobilize and Get More Involvement...

From Showing Up to Being Seen

Alumni events are about connections, continuity and legacy-building—the invisible thread that ties who we once were to who we are now. In choosing to show up, we affirm and value something larger than ourselves: the friendships that matter and the shared history that continues to give our stories meaning. In the end, the goal is belonging, connecting, giving meanings to our lives, past, present and future.

With imagination and heart, our next gathering can be a reunion with others and more importantly, with parts of lives that we didn’t know we’d missed. It's a chance to give a new meaning to our lives.

On June 16, I had the privilege of moderating the education roundtable at the first anniversary celebration of the North American Alumni Association of BISU. It was a day of learning for me, where experts in finance, education, and immigration shared insights shaped by both data and decades of experience. I walked away with two realizations: one about what’s changing in college admissions—and one about what stays constant in life.

The New Landscape of College Admissions

One theme emerged clearly from our roundtable: today’s college admissions process is more competitive and complex than ever. High school students are applying to more schools, many through early decision or early action. Colleges, meanwhile, face increasing financial pressures and are admitting more first-generation students—adding layers of unpredictability to the process.

Yet one thing hasn’t changed: what ultimately matters most—strong academics, meaningful extracurriculars, and clear character.

During the discussion, a particularly thought-provoking moment came when two education professionals described their approaches to working with new families. An American educator said, “We pre-screen students—because students are the key.” But another, whose students are mostly Asian, said, “We pre-screen parents—because parents are the key.”

This contrast reflects two distinct cultural frameworks. In one, the student is the primary agent of change, expected to take initiative and show independence. In the other, the parent plays a central role, shaping strategy and making major decisions.

Both perspectives hold truth. But the gap between them reveals a deeper question: how do we nurture self-motivated learners in cultures where parental control often overshadows personal agency?

I believe that in the long run, students must be in the driver’s seat, steering their own journey. That’s how genuine passion is cultivated—and that’s exactly what admissions officers (AOs) are looking for.

AOs don’t want résumés packed with disconnected accomplishments. They want to see authenticity, focus, and growth. As one speaker put it, “Show me your passion project. Show me how you learned to lead while completing it. Show me you're not afraid to step outside your comfort zone.”

Here are a few key takeaways:

• Declare a mission, not just a major. College is not the end goal—it’s part of the journey.

• Start a blog. Use it to document your evolving interests and personal growth.

• Choose your own summer. Don’t just take another online course. Do something real.

• Don’t force it. Let your path unfold naturally—水到渠成 (when water flows, a channel forms).

• Be self-motivated. AOs value students who take initiative, who learn on their own, who are genuinely curious.

As one speaker beautifully said, “Don’t just teach me—involve me.” Learning today is no longer passive. It’s collaborative, experiential, and driven by the student.

From College Dreams to Life’s Priorities

Later, while catching up with a college friend, he mentioned that his wife was planning to upgrade their already-spacious home to an even larger one. Inwardly I thought: Isn’t this the time in life when we should be doing the opposite?

As we reach a certain stage in life, instead of adding more—perhaps we should do more subtracting. Not accumulating more possessions, but let go what we no longer need. Not material quantity but life quality.

Subtraction means more clarity and freedom. It lightens our load, leaving us more space and time for new experiences, for people we care, for who we’re becoming and for the intangible legacy that we care to leave behind. After all, the most enduring things in life are not things at all.

In education, as in life, it's about building a life. And at some point, we build best by letting go and using least.