Category — Kids

The Millennials may still be mostly in nursery school, but the race is on to name the next generation, reports Bruce Horovitz in USA Today (5/4/12). Among the candidates: Generation Wii, iGeneration, Gen Tech, Digital Natives and Net Gen. “Names are being invented by people who have a great press release,” says Neil Howe, who in 2000, co-authored a book called Millennials Rising that “is widely credited with naming the Millennials.” Advertising Age magazine had earlier coined “Generation Y,” which had gained some currency, as had another moniker, Echo Boomers. But even Ad Age conceded in an editorial last year that Millennials was the best name.

“Everyone wants to be the first to come up with the name,” says Cheryl Russell, who says she coined “iGeneration” three years ago. The tradition of naming generations began with the Greatest Generation (also known as the GI Generation) in the early 1900s. That was followed by the Silent Generation (sometimes called Traditionalists, Veterans or the Mature Generation), the Baby Boomers, Generation X and Millennials. The cutoff happens roughly every 20 years, although Jean Twenge, author of Generation Me, thinks that the accelerating pace of “cultural and technological change” suggests that generational shifts may be happening every 10 years.

Jean thinks Multi Gen would be a good name “because this is a generation of multicultural, multimedia, multiracial and multifamily kids.” Scott Hess of Teenage Research Unlimited is pushing Post Gen because it comes post-recession, post-Obama election, post tsunami and post 9/11. He also likes it because it’s a generation that “posts” everything on Facebook. Jack MacKenzie, a media consultant, likes The Pluralist Generation, reflecting its comfort with ethnic diversity. Taco Bell, meanwhile, is backing Generation Wii, because it “makes a game out of everything,” says Taco Bell marketing chief Brian Niccol, adding that the name is “shorthand for connectivity.” But Nintendo, maker of Wii, isn’t keen on the idea, noting that Wii transcends generations, and is about everyone playing together. So, anyway, what’s your favorite name for the next generation? (vote here).

A decidedly adigital game of battling tops has “erupted into American living rooms,” reports Jesse McKinley in the New York Times (3/22/12). You may remember Beyblade from the early 2000s. It originated in Japan and, back then, the game was mostly made of plastic. It went out of style, but was re-introduced in Japan in 2008, this time featuring “a variety of changeable parts — energy rings and spin tracks and fusion wheels — and more metal, which added heft and created a satisfying clanging noise when they collide.” The new and improved Beyblade entered the US market in 2010, “coinciding with a new anime series on the Cartoon Network” and has since taken off like, well, a top from a string.

According to Hasbro, its American distributor, Beyblade has sold “more than 120 million tops worldwide.” NPD group puns that Beyblade was “the top-selling ‘battling’ toy in the nation last year.” The essential appeal is in the nature of the game itself. Following a ritual battle cry of “3,2,1, let it rip!” players send the tops flying off of rip-cords and into battle in “Bey Stadium.” The objective is to outlast other player’s top, and since “skirmishes usually last less than a minute, there is always time for another. And another. And another.” As six-year-old Eamon Moogan explains: “I like it because it’s really fast … And because even if you lose, you can always do it again.” Or as six-year-old John Luk Payne says, “It’s real life … it’s not just looking at something.”

Some kids are seeking out and swapping “rare imported” tops and creating their own “hybrid super-tops” from parts. International Beyblade competitions have also sprung up, including the “first-ever Beyblade World Championship” in Toronto. “Beyblade is a heck of a way to unite kids from all over,” says Zakiah Garcia, a sixth-grader who represented the US at the competition. The Beyblade phenomenon has understandably left some parents a bit frazzled, but Susanna Yurick, who was initially apprehensive about the game, says she likes that Beyblade teaches her son something about physics. So far, it is mostly boys on the Beyblade bandwagon, but first-grader Maleah Frances is ready to join the bey-fray: “The boys are a little bit better,” she says, “But I’m practicing.”

Having gone out of style in the 1980s, Table Hockey is attracting a new generation of fans, reports Will Connors in the Wall Street Journal (4/23/12). Table Hockey is where players use metal rods to move flat cutouts of players along slots in the table, manipulating them as levers in hopes of landing pucks in the opponent’s net. It was really popular in the 1970s but lost its mojo with the arrival of “videogames and the internet.” The game had survived, to some degree, among middle-aged men, who are now actively recruiting younger players to their ranks. Their pitch is “the sport’s human touch over videogames and smartphone apps.”

Mark Sokolski, 35, says young players are attracted to Table Hockey’s “real-life camaraderie” compared with the digital alternatives. “In videogames, there is no humanity,” he says. However, he showed no mercy when taking on 14-year-old Carter Campbell at the Canadian Table Hockey Championships earlier this year. “I’m gonna stomp this kid,” Mark said. And he did, 5-3 and 5-1. But, in fact, Mark, a middle-school teacher, had introduced Carter to the game in the classroom. Carter was a natural and soon “was beating all the kids his age, and most adults in town, too, at school and in local tournaments.”

Carter sees Table Hockey as a great equalizer. “I’m clearly not that athletic,” he says. “This is a a sport that I can play and I’m actually good at.” The Canadian event, held annually since 1999, drew a record number of participants — 120. Another tourney, the North American Championships meanwhile “drew players from as far away as Denmark and Norway,” and also broke the record for participation, with 48 players. Girls and women are still a rarity at Table Hockey tournaments, but Sue Elias, who says she’s “over 40″ is unintimidated. “One guy started to bleed during our game, he was trying to beat me so badly,” says Sue, observing . “But,” she adds, “I won.”

Maxine Clark got the idea for Build-A-Bear from a frustrated little girl, reports Dinah Eng in Fortune (3/19/12). Maxine was shopping for Beanie Babies with Katie Burkhardt, the daughter of a good friend. There wasn’t anything new to buy, and Katie suggested making her own bear. “Her words gave me the idea to create a company that would allow people to create their own customized stuffed animals,” says Maxine, who at the time had left her job as president of Payless ShoeSource because “the retail world had lost its spark.”

Her vision was to create “a theme park factory in a mall,” and the adults didn’t get it. “Every parent said, Why would you want to make your own stuffed animal when you can buy it at Target?” But their kids loved the idea. Maxine didn’t conduct any focus groups, but did create a Cub Advisory Board, in which kids could offer opinions. She took $750,000 out of her retirement fund to open her first store, and secured a bank line of credit, with her home as collateral. A story in the St. Louis Business Journal attracted an investment firm. When Maxine’s first Build-A-Bear store opened in the St. Louis Galleria, “there was a line out the door.”

Originally it was “just bears and clothes,” and then came “shoes, accessories, then more animals.” Licensed products from Disney and Major League Baseball teams followed. “We hit a good nerve,” says Maxine. “At a time when everything was going high tech, high touch and hands-on was a good balance.” That was back in the late ’90s, but today Build-a-Bear “operates 425 stores” in 19 countries (almost 40% outside the US) and in 2011 had revenues of $394.4 million. “We focus on good price, convenience, and location, and we hope that when you leave, you have a smile on your face,” says Maxine. “Successful retailers — whether it’s Macy’s or Apple — do these things.”

Creativity among kids is declining because they are taught “that knowing the right answer is more valued than asking a thoughtful question,” reports Kathryn Canavan in a USA Today review of “Creating Innovators” by Tony Wagner ( 3/19/12). Tony is “Harvard’s first innovation education fellow” and his book offers “a road map for parents who want to sculpt their children into innovative thinkers.” His advice is based on interviews with parents “who have reared innovative young adults,” many of whom apparently spent big bucks on nurturing fertile minds.

However, much of Tony’s advice applies to “families at any income level,” and some of it seems apparent, for example: “Allow your children plenty of unstructured time for play and discovery … Have sand, water, clay, paint and blocks available to encourage imaginative play … The best toys aren’t tricked out. Lego blocks trump an Xbox when it comes to unzipping the imagination.” But other examples are a bit more offbeat: “One mom took her son to a hardware store and let him pick out his own birthday presents — valves, pulleys, a chain, some tubing.”

Tony also recommends keeping “rules on screen time, reading time and bedtime” and enforcing “one hour of free reading a day — material that has nothing to do with schoolwork.” He advises involving kids in “adult conversation” and to “nurture and respect their interests. One dad took his children to a music store and let them try different instruments." The idea is to "expose children to a buffet of activities" and the book includes a series of QR codes “that will lead to delightful video shorts if you are among the 46% of US adults who own smartphones.”

A small, rubber teething toy from France has become an unlikely luxury item among young moms around the world, reports Christina Passariello in the Wall Street Journal (3/7/12). Sophie la Giraffe “has been part of French life since 1961″ and for a long time its makers, Vulli, thought its appeal was purely local. But six years ago, its CEO, Serge Jacquemier, became “convinced Sophie could travel.” He “hired a psychotherapist, who concluded the rubber chew toy tapped into all five senses: sight with its strongly contrasting colors; hearing with its easy squeak; taste because it is easy to chomp on; and the touch and smell of the natural rubber. The toy’s petite size made it easy for babies to grip.”

As Serge observes: “What difference could there be between a Chinese, American or Russian baby?” Sophie was re-packaged in biodegradable boxes emblazoned with the Eiffel Tower, and sales have since “more than quadrupled” to $29 million. In the United States, the retail price of $25 is more than double the typical French tag of $12. In France, Sophie is sold in local supermarkets, in a blister package, and does quite well without the upscale trappings: “In 2010, Vulli sold 816,000 giraffes in France, and 828,000 babies were born, meaning that nearly every French newborn got one.”

Unlike most other toys for children, Sophie is made of rubber, not plastic, which also gives Vulli an advantage. “What saved us is that producing in rubber is more difficult than plastic,” says Serge. After being poured into molds and baked, the Sophies are allowed to dry for two months, before being polished, fitted with a whistle, sprayed “with food-grade paints” and marked with tracking numbers. Some naturally occurring toxins were detected recently by advanced technology, but Serge insists Sophie is safe. The company, which originally made “rubber balloons” to spy on German lines during World War I, has also line-extended into Sophie blankets and rattles.

Unlike Americans, the French raise their kids with "a combination of unyielding expectations and an insouciant, hands-off approach," reports Clare McHugh in the Wall Street Journal (2/7/12). That’s the premise of Bringing Up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman, which is based on the author’s experience as an American mother, with a British husband, bringing up three children in Paris. According to the book, "no one in France ever purchases the French equivalent of a ‘Baby Einstein’ video or attempts to teach a child to read at age 3. But everyone preaches the necessity of fixed meal times, including a sit-down lunch at midday starting with salad and ending with cheese." Nursing doesn’t happen, apparently because it is insufficiently chic.

The French also take a hard-line when it comes to sleep patterns, preferring to let their infants "cry it out" as opposed to picking them up at the first sound of fussiness. Some American parents take a similar approach, as popularized by Dr. Richard Ferber, but usually not until the child is at least six months old. Where day care is concerned, "the typical Frenchwoman … appears grateful to be able to get on with life by enrolling her newborn at one of the state-run day care centers available in the city." Once there, the child’s day care experience is rather regimented — "they must eat quietly at the table at the scheduled hour; and they must nap when told to nap. The rest of the time they can do whatever they choose, ambling around the playroom undirected."

The idea is "that children should be allowed to get bored — and learn to amuse themselves." A similar sensibility prevails at the playground, where French parents take the opportunity to disengage. "I’ve never seen a French mother climb a jungle gym, go down a slide with her child, or sit on a seesaw — all regular sights back in the United States and among Americans visiting France," Pamela writes. You won’t find a French parent "carrying around the Ziploc bag of Cheerios that clutters the purse of every American toddler’s mom," either, as snacking isn’t allowed. The French, according to Pamela, "are determined to counter the squalor and disorder of life with small children, and preserve the ‘rights’ of parents to enjoy adult existence."

Maggie Sheffield is one of a growing cadre of artists who double as babysitters, reports Laura Hedli in the Wall Street Journal (12/29/11). Maggie works for a company called Artist Babysitting, founded five years ago by Shannon Darin, an aspiring Broadway actress. Shannon stumbled into the concept quite by accident. She took babysitting jobs to make ends meet, and when auditions or some such created conflicts, "she often relied on her artist friends to fill in." The point-of-difference was doing creative projects with the kids, and Shannon now has "a clientele of more than 350 families on word-of-mouth recommendations."

Kristina Wilson, a singer, took a different route to a similar destination. After juggling her Morgan Stanley day job with "auditions, rehearsals and performances," she resolved to create "a company that was for the arts, by the arts, with the arts, with the artist as the help." The result is Sitters Studio, with branches in both New York and Chicago. Her New York office includes three studios "and some of the artists use them to run their own theater companies, or just to warm up before auditions."

Both Shannon and Kristina "share a specific, targeted concept for artist babysitting — one with a throwback twist: Television and surfing the internet are strongly discouraged and, for the most part, prohibited … The pricing for both companies begins at around $20 an hour and can rise depending on the number of children, and both offer their services at various hotels for a higher fee." Both employ about 90 sitters, most of whom are performance, not visual, artists. Some parents appreciate the interaction with "a range of creative adults — an opera singer one week, a photographer the next." As one parent put it: "No matter who comes, my kids are having an enriching experience."

Snow may be plentiful, "but the mystery of how snow forms is still unsolved," reports Elizabeth Weise in USA Today ( 12/19/11). We do know — and have known since the 1930s — that "the shape snow takes depends on the temperature … From about freezing to 25 degrees Fahrenheit, the snow forms as flakes. When it hits about 23 degrees, the snow forms into needles, and at about 22 degrees into hollow columns. When the temperature drops to about 10, flakes start forming again. But when it gets to -8 or so, it’s once again columns. At -30, snow stops forming altogether."

So, perfectly formed, six-sided, symmetrical snowflakes are actually quite rare. "People think that every crystal is perfect, but far from it," says Kenneth Libbrecht, a Caltech physics professor. "Most of them look like sand, but mixed in with that are these beautiful structures." Kenneth "has spent much of his career feeding the public’s endless fascination with the beauty and mystery of snowflakes." He jokes that this is work suitable only for tenured professors like himself. "There are no grants; you can’t get funded for it," he says. But Kenneth has published seven books of snowflake photos, including "The Secret Life of a Snowflake," for children.

When Kenneth sees a "nice" snowflake, "he picks it up with a paintbrush and puts it on a glass slide and into his microscope to photograph … His photos of those frozen crystals of water graced more than 3 billion US postage stamps in 2006 and a Swedish stamp in 2010. He has also authored numerous papers on the molecular dynamics that dictate how ice crystals grow." He admits that despite its various forms, snow usually doesn’t feel all that different when you’re in the middle of it. The only exception is snow that forms at about 5 degrees, known as "stellar dendrites," which are "flat plates with barbs." These flakes pack lightly and are way fluffy. You get a couple of billion of them on a good slope, says Kenneth, and you’ve got a skier’s paradise.

When it comes to play, boys covet mastery while for girls it’s all about beauty, reports Brad Wieners in Bloomberg Businessweek (12/19/11). That’s what Lego’s anthropologists — or anthros — discovered after digging into what motivates kids at play. Their first clue came from an 11-year-old German boy who said his most prized possession was his sneakers — not because of the brand but because the way they were worn down on the sides and bottom confirmed his mastery of certain skateboard techniques. The attitude is similar with videogames, where it’s all about "scoring, ranking and levels of play."

However, among girls, playtime is more about aesthetics, and this was a problem for Lego, whose deliberately boy-centric marketing strategy wasn’t exactly pretty — least of all "its boxy minifigure, its 4-centimeter plastic man with swiveling legs, a yellow jug-head and a painted-on face." (image) It’s an icon among boys, but not girls. "Let’s be honest: Girls hate him," says Mads Nipper, Lego’s chief marketing officer. So, in its bid to make Lego attractive to girls, the brand is introducing Lego Friends, a series of 29 "mini-doll figures" based on "five main figures" who come complete with "names and backstories," sort of like American Girl dolls.

"The girls needed a figure they could identify with, that looks like them," says Rosario Costa, a Lego design director. But the real insight is that Lego can be just as appealing to girls as boys. Studies also find that Legos help both genders "develop spatial, mathematical and fine motor skills." Lego Friends will be introduced in the US in early 2012, and Target’s plan is to shelve it with other girls products, not other Lego sets (which of course are in the boys’ section). "I don’t have any illusions that the girls business will be bigger than the boys," says Lego CEO Jorgen Vig Knudstorp, "but at least for those who are looking for it, we have something to offer."